Dear Diary,

I feel terrible. I feel terrible after what happened day before yesterday. Paul is supposed to be my best friend, you know, and I beat him up, I beat him to a pulp.

I feel so bad. I remember when we first started teaming up for Table Tennis. Being 6’8″, it was never easy finding friends, and honestly, even when I first met him, it was weird, as he stood at over 7 feet tall. I guess it’s a competitive thing, and upon constant egging by our other classmates, we met in a colossal tussle of arm wrestling.

Now, I’m not much of a person who’d toot his own horn but I won, but there was something we both realized, we felt like being exploited for the entertainment of our classmates, both of us being larger than life giants as far as physical stature is concerned. So we cleaned house on them. There were bodies flying everywhere.

We both were reprimanded and suspended for a week from school, which gave us time to bind even further, and after getting back to school, we decided to focus our energy on a non violent activity – table tennis and needless to say, we ruled the roost there as well.

With Paul, I felt in power, in control, I finally had a partner in crime. I wasn’t plagued by the voices, I wasn’t tormented by my own soul, if was so wonderful. Paul even helped me get revenge on Hunter, Goddamn how much I hate that guy, and yet, I beat him up day before yesterday. Damn those voices, damn that torment.

I feel so torn right now, diary. I haven’t talked to Paul since, I don’t even know if he’s okay. I really really hate this time of the year. It’s the same story year after year, I try so hard to live a normal life, but the torture never ends. I just wish the voices don’t come back.