Dear Diary,

The past couple of weeks have been terrible. Ever since my encounter with Paul, shirt’s really hit the pan. I’m tired diary, I’m tired of running and running.

Last time I confided in you, it was just the beginning, the voices had returned with a vicious flavour, telling me all sorts of mean things. The deep, guttural, faceless voices kept reminding me of all the horrors in my life, my encounters with Hunter, my encounters with Amy and Matt, my encounters with my very own brother, Mark. They won’t stop, they were so relentless. I was already feeling bad for what I did to Paul, and the voices piled on all my failures, all the times people have been disgusted with me, all the times I tried to be normal and they pulled me back.

I went to see Paul, with voices in my head still ringing. Ever since I was a child, they won’t stop tormenting me, that date, that fateful date, it always keeps circling around, always makes me dizzy. Paul, yet again, won’t see me, not because he didn’t want to, but because he was running a high fever because of the savage beating I gave him and his family won’t let me in. Well, serves him right for being a fat slob, but nevertheless, he’s my friend, and I’m supposed to feel bad right? It wasn’t my fault the voices in my head made me snap.

As I was returning, I ran into my old buddy Oscar. Oh how we had great times back in school. He had skipped a few grades and was the youngest in our class. I was always amazed at the amount of hardwork this guy was putting in, week in and week out.

He had no idea about my situation with Paul, but still, I was quite surprised when he invited me to his wedding scheduled to happen this month, considering how I’d turned out and how he had turned out.

We were just talking about the ceremony when all of a sudden, I felt a sharp pain in my temple. I felt my temper rising as the voices in my head came back.

Gone were the embarrassing stories, for now they kept screaming the same two words over and over again as I proceeded to punch my way into Oscar’s ugly face. I didn’t feel any regret, I didn’t feel any remorse. All I could feel were those two words, repeating in my head over and over again as the red hue took over my vision again.

Once again, I ran. I ran to hide from the voices, I ran to get rid of the red hue. As I was running, I felt as if someone was chasing behind me. I knew who they were. They’ve returned. Aw Goddamnit the men in the beige uniforms had returned.

Ever since the past two weeks, I’ve only been running, diary. I’ve been running from the beige men, I’ve been running from my thoughts, and I’ve been running from the world. I somehow snucked back in to my room today, somehow hiding my large frame from the prying eyes of those men. You know why? Because I wanted you, diary. Only you can help me, only you can give me answers. Only you know how to make the voices go away. Only you know how to make those men go away.

I don’t even know where I am right now, I’ve been so disoriented, I’ve been so hungry, and yet, all I see is red and all I can hear is those two words over and over again.

“May 19th, May 19th”