Dear Diary (or whoever may be reading this),
You know what I got to thinking about today. I started thinking about James Castle. How I couldn’t believe it when he killed himself. Well I could believe it, I mean it was kind of expected. He jumped right out of his dorm window. You want to know what the worst part about it was though: he was wearing my sweater. I mean of all of the things that he could’ve chosen to off himself in it had to be my sweater. I actually liked that sweater. Phoebe bought it for me last Christmas.
What I want to know though is what Phil Stabile and those other jerks were doing to Castle up in that room. Like were they beating him or something. We all saw it coming, you know, Castle getting beat up by Stabile. He did call stabile a jerk…and well, thats just one of those things that you don’t do. Well I would do it. I’m not scared of Stabile. Not at all.
You know what else came to my mind. How everyone around is a conformist. They always do what they are told. They follow the rules and stuff. They tell the truth all the time. See, you can’t always be a nice guy. I’m a pretty nice guy, but sometimes you just have to live a little. Like the time that I almost had sex with that prostitute. What was her name again, oh yeah Sunny. Now she knew how to have fun. Although she and Maurice, the pimp, did scam me, and then came and beat me up. But that’s not the point. It was fun. I told her my name was James Steele. See even little lies, like your name, can be fun to tell.
But you want to know what annoys the heck out of me. What really really annoys me. When people have no consideration for little kids. Like when you’re on the train and you see a swear scribbled on the wall. I mean, don’t the jerks who write that know that kids will see it. That those same kids will most likely go back and repeat the word. I saw the word “fuck” scrawled on the wall at the museum a while ago and it just killed me. I could’ve killed the person who had done it. I really could’ve of.
I just wish that I wouldn’t have to deal with everyone else. With people like James Castle who off themselves in my sweater, or people like Phil Stabile who make them do it. Or all of those damn conformists, or prostitutes or pimps. Those are the people that the little kids today will turn into in a few years, and it’s not fair to them. God…how I wish that I could save them
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Book / Literary Fiction
Short Story / Romance
Short Story / Romance
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