The Crazys

You think you know me. Well you don't know shit. I may act all happy go lucky near you, but what you don't know is what I am thinking and what I write in that little notebook of mine. Today is a great day to tell you my story. The farthest I remember was when I was about five or six. I don't know why, but I tryed to kill myself. I heard voices. Had hallucinations. When dad found me with the knife by my neck, and when I blamed it on the old bear my dad gave me, that's when they knew something was wrong. I was put in an institute for the mentally insane. We called it coastal harbor. Now let's go forward twelve years. I have been to coastal harbor alot since then, but now I controlled my problems. I take it in writing. Sometimes I just get so mad I write their murders in my book. My hallucinations had since been gone, due to the medicine I take. But sometimes I still see glimpses of these things. All of my friends are crazy as well. They loved and respected me.