Second Entry into this Diary.
I hate coming home black and blue and purple and every fucking color in the rainbow of bruises. I really do. What the fuck gi ves them the right to abuse me like this? What gives them the ability to treat me like scum? What makes me so different from them?
I already live in fucking hell, so why the fuck do I gotta experience it at school? School should be a fucking escape! Fuck it, at this point, I'm thinking of jjust throwing in the towel and calling it quits. I meanfor me to be suffering like this I was probably a fucking serial killer or some shit.
Mikey noticeed the handwriting was much looser, yet written with more prssure and inkblots than before. Either this guy was someone else, had multiple personalities, or was just pissed beyong all fucking measure. For a moment, he figured whoever was writing it had really died and it scared him. Then, he flipped the page and was quickly reassured by the spidery writing, this time marred by big splotches, probably from tears.