*texting furball*
I hate u
I hate the fact that u made me cry.
I hate they fact that u make me feel normal
I hate that u make me happy.
I hate u for making me forget my family.
My mom just died, and here I am, more worried for u, crying over u rather than crying over my mom, worried for my family.
What spell did u put me under?
I hate u.
I hate u
I hate u so much.
I...
Don't hate u
I can't
I just can't
No matter how hard I try.
Lottie
Please come back.
I don't think I can do this for any longer.
It's been almost two months. We only have three more weeks before summer is up and we all go our separate ways.
Meaning either u will b awake and leave, or stuck here.
And I don't want either.
I want u with me
*message deleted at 9:23 am*
Ur sister needs u
I don't think she'll leave until u wake up.
She's finally speaking to us about little things. Like how the day looks nice and stuff.
And she's finally left the hospital for a shower. Don't tell her, but she stinks.
Anyways. I'm sorry for the other day.
I was drunk.
And I'm sorry for saying I hate u too.
I don't.
I was just...
I just needed to let my anger out.
Im sorry.

YOU ARE READING
Calls From The Toilet [DISCONTINUED]
Short StoryIn which a girl gets dared to call a random number and that person on the other line happens to be a constipated boy. (Told through texts and messages with the occasional [kinda] actual chapters) [Start: June 23, 2017] [End: N/A]