catastrophe ➵ clifford

➥ michael's journal

may twenty seventh 11:53 am

i shouldn't be in this place. i really shouldn't. i think it's pointless, i didn't do anything bad. all i wanted to do was to be with my sister. the only person i actually cared about in this stupid fucking world. argh, i honestly wanted to escape, or just i dunno, be left alone forever. this place was driving me insane, completely insane. if i hadn't been on suicide watch i'd probably have had all my hair ripped out by now.

i'm not allowed by any of the other inmates, except on game day or whatever the hell it's called. i think that's the only decent time in this hellhole. i really miss jane. she's my sister, dear journal. after six years of abuse from my step father she finally decided to just give up. i really wish i could've helped her! i swear i do! jane, jane, jane, how i miss you. i miss her so much, she was the only one that understood. now she's gone, and i'm completely fucked.

i met a nurse here, she's nice. snuck me a journal, pencils, and some pens. we're not supposed to have anything, especially cases like me. they took the laces out of my shoes, they took my phone, my life pretty much. oh how i wish. then i'd be with jane. sorry do i seem obsessive? see, you just wouldn't understand, we had a real special bond. not incest, weird shit, special bond. but we could just sit on the roof at dark and talk for hours. sometimes she'd fall asleep and i'd have to carry her back to her room. she was a real sweetheart, and it makes me so sad she's not gonna grow up, have kids, and get married.

back stories are always a son of a bitch, but mine isn't neccesarily a sob story. i grew up with my sister, and my step dad. my mother died after she gave birth to jane, reasons unknown, honestly. but it makes me sad, so, so sad. i don't like being sad though, i like thinking about happy things. once again i bring up game day, it's so nice, all the crazies come together and play board games and listen to somewhat good music. it's real enjoyable.

i hope i make a friend there someday, anyways back to the story. jane was eight, and i was twelve. the abuse started, i won't go into detail but it was hell. i tried to tell someone, anybody that would listen. it was a serious fucking thing, right? but nope, nobody would listen to me. when somebody finally did, the cops showed up, and he made us deny everything. after they left? i got beat to nearly a pulp. it was bad, real bad. i had bruises and cuts all over my body for the next week or so.

then it was a few days after my eighteenth birthday and i got to find jane. her lifeless body hung from a noose. a note was there too, i didn't even get to keep that. i was a wreck afterwards, i'm sorry if anybody ever reads that. i don't like specifying details about sad things. it's never good. i've always wanted a happy ending. a happy ending always sounded so nice to me. 

pretty soon they'd be calling lunch, that's the only other time where all the crazies would be allowed together, heh, cool nickname, huh? the crazies. maybe there'll be someone new today, someone cool. or maybe i'll make a friend. it'd be pretty cool, right?

anyways food is calling my name, so i'll see ya later journal okay? maybe i should name you? something unique. i'll call you jane, after my sister. wow, i sound insane. real insane, huh? well yeah, i'll be out now. see you later.