It's a good thing most people bleed on the inside or this would be a gory, blood-smeared earth.

I’ve got to sleep. Sleep is my only way to escape.

This morning when I left Mom's parting words were, "Come straight home after school." Wow! Like I'm going to get stoned at 3:30—it doesn't sound so bad at that.

How is it possible for me to be so miserable and embarrassed and humiliated and beaten an function still talk and smile and concentrate?

The voice of every kid hooked on drugs, alcohol or the occult joins the sad chorus "Not me! I didn't think it could ever happen to me. I was sure I could handle it.

Maybe the new me will be different.

Alone. The saddest word in the world.