Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Emma is dead. She died of shock last night. Her family are at my house.
I dint know what to do with the twenty euros so I have it under my pillow.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

I am supposed to be laying low for a bit, as the police said, but I can't.

First off, happy New Year. Every year, my parents would throw a big party at our house for New Years Eve and at twelve o'clock, there would be fireworks and shit. This year, though, we didn't. All we did was was sit around the tv and eat a packet of pringles. Each.

Next, the police found Emma. She was found in the forest, with no injuries what so ever, but her skin was white as snow, lips blue, eyes black and hair silver. Crap.
She's okay but she had to go and get a medical check and then she has been sent to an asylum. Because she claimed she is being stalked by a tall, thin man who could sneak into the hospital room and watching. Except he couldn't physically watch her, Emma said, because he had no face.
Before she left for the asylum, I was allowed in to see her. She was sleeping but I think she was faking because the second I opened the door, she sat right up and pulled her knees to her chest, cowering from the wardrobe.
She didn't speak much, and all through the visit her eyes were glued to the wardrobe area. But at the end, she rummaged through her bag and found her purse. She took two ten euros out of her purse and put them in my hand.
'give these to him for me.'