The truth remains. I was, and am, disgusted with myself.

She's still doing it, pushing me into situations I can't handle, making me cope. She knows I can't cope.

You can't trust machines. You can't trust people.

My room is cleared. My head is cleared. Earlier, around dawn, I took out the last load of trash. I look around and see what's left. Nothing. There is no more Daelyn Rice. As I was. As I am. Or will become. I'm a blank slate

Trust. That was what this was all about. If you can't trust the one you love, you don't have anything.

No one else knows I'm alive, which means they won't notice when I'm gone.

How will you be remembered? As a loner and a loser.