Entry Six: September 20, 2011
I wasn’t sure if I should write it in the journal, but I guess I might as well. I have been permanently set on this doorstep. I cannot go back inside. My mother won’t allow it, or I guess the vodka won’t.
And of course, I’m scared. We are not in the best town. And I’m cold, because we’re not in the warmest of towns either. But now I’m heading to the park, the pages of this journal damp with morning dew, causing the ink of my pen to run a little. I bump into a few people as I walk. At least I have the park.
I’m crying. I’m hiding it from the strangers, of course. But, journal, you might as well know, because no one else seems to care.
YOU ARE READING
Fall
RomanceThis isn't a typical love story. I didn't meet some boy and fall in love at first sight. In fact, I didn't fall in love with a boy at all. Or a girl. Not even a house plant. My name is Thalia Walker, and I fell in love with the world.
