I'm being sent off tomorrow.
Faith's in here, in my room, trying to make sure I don't hurt myself. I tried to, yesterday. He's not even letting my Boyfriend and my Roommate in. I wish he wasn't letting himself in, too. I don't think he's safe, here. I don't think they like that he's here.
They won't stop. Even with my brother here they won't stop. But he doesn't hear them. No one hears them. Except me. And they keep talking. Whispering at me. Taunting me.
I feel sick. The grey on my arms is growing and I don't know why. I don't think I bruised them. I don't remember bruising them.
But I'm hearing things, so I guess I'm not the best judge.
They still want me to rise. I don't want to. I don't want to think about it.
I guess they'll make it so I won't. They'll make it so I don't have to remember.
I'm not sure what I'll do if they don't.