March 8th.
I spoke with Doctor Clinton over the phone earlier. He told me that if I told the story of my trauma bit by bit, then it would be easier to overcome. I know that such things never go away, but he hasn't wronged me yet.
I have already written that my daughter Erin died at a horribly young age. Her death almost caused a rift between Emily and I. I locked myself away and did... horrible things to myself. I know not what Emily did.
It was just a regular day. I was picking up Erin from school. The light turned green and... that was it. They said he was drunk. But who gets drunk at 3:00 on a Wednesday? How could somebody be so ignorant, have so little regard for life? This was a mistake. The project continues. All is well.
YOU ARE READING
About Time
Short StoryThe following is a journal recovered from the crime scene during the McIssac investigation. -- Property of The Division of Special Investigations.
