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Sunday, April 8
Jamia had a miscarriage.
And I'm sorta glad. I mean, Frank's not having a child! But the other thing is that Frank's… not that affected.
Like, he came over to my house, told me the news, and he looked dead for a few moments before shrugging it off and smiling. Then, while pulling out a packet of cigarettes, he invited himself in.
Now, we're lying on the ground, smoking the night away.
Things couldn't be more perfect.
Word Count: 77.
Jamia had a miscarriage.
And I'm sorta glad. I mean, Frank's not having a child! But the other thing is that Frank's… not that affected.
Like, he came over to my house, told me the news, and he looked dead for a few moments before shrugging it off and smiling. Then, while pulling out a packet of cigarettes, he invited himself in.
Now, we're lying on the ground, smoking the night away.
Things couldn't be more perfect.
Word Count: 77.
Frank.
I always thought you hated this thing—the journal, I mean. You always had a look of disgust or loathing whenever you dragged this thing out. Well, you did that when I was locked in your room, when, um, the dragon (was that what you called Dr. Miller?) first got you one. I didn't really know how difficult it was for you to express your feelings then, but I began to realize when you yelled at me when I told you it was going to be okay.
Ah, yes, good times.
You're probably wondering—well, if you can wonder, I'm not sure—how I exactly knew you called Miller the dragon. I walked into the bedroom after our little dispute we had Christmas day—I'm
a letter.
It took me a while to think up of how to write this, because... well, the words wouldn't come to me as easily as they used to, but I guess that's just my fault. I, I, never mind.
I, no. I wanted to say that these past three years were the worst ones of my entire life, and I don't say that that often. I used to think my childhood was hard, because of my parents divorcing, and my brother and I getting into situations brothers shouldn't be under my bed, but, but... I can honestly say those times were pleasant compared to what I've experienced recently.
I know I probably sound like a pussy and a wimp and all this stuff, but, but I just can't do
day forty-nine.
Sunday, December 25
Merry Christmas! I love you two!
That's what I said to Boo and Pumpkin when I woke up today.
And I got the same reaction out of the both of them: a grunt and a roll over, making their backs face me.
So, I got up and sat in the living room, deciding to wait on them to wake up; I was excited to give them their presents.
They woke up around nine, and Boo jumped right up to sit beside me on the couch, and Pumpkin plopped down on the floor by the small Christmas tree I had put up a few days ago.
I gave Boo her present—a pretty collar with a bell and a ball filled with catnip. She took it to the corner of the room and star
day forty-eight.
Saturday, December 24
Pumpkin was a total ass. I thought it would have been a good idea, since it's our first place together, to throw a Christmas party with a few of our close friends.
Well, it wasn't.
Pumpkin drank a lot, much to my disappointment. They didn't even seem to care that people were talking about them while they thundered around without a care in the world. It ticked me off. How could Pumpkin act like that?
I don't know what I'm gonna do with them! I'll just have to punish them tonight.
They were acting like a whore earlier. Well, if they like acting like a whore, then I'll punish them like one.
Word Count: 112.
(OOC: Co
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Pffffft.
Males.
Males.