Limit

Everyone has some limit for pain - some point at which the pain becomes so great that it can hardly be felt anymore. I have reached that point.

Alex is dead.

Tess is pregnant . . . with Max's child.

Max, Michael, Isabel, and Tess left to go to their home planet.

Michael asked Maria to come with them.

She said yes.

Jim and Kyle Valenti wanted to go, to see what had taken their fathers away from them.

Nobody thought to ask me to come.

And I'm not sure why.

2 days after they left there was a fire at the Crashdown. Both of my parents burned to death.

I did not cry at their funeral, the pain had already become so great that I couldn't feel anymore.

I have no one.

I have nothing.

Everyone who knew the truth has left, but me.

There is no proof that they were not human, except for my journal, which I have burned.

I have nothing to live for, but my never ending prayers to die have not been answered.

I do not know what to expect from myself.

I do things and say things that I shouldn't do and say.

I no longer know myself.

I do not understand my feelings, my rage, my confusion.

My mind is a loose cannon with no sure place to explode.

I cannot stay in Roswell any longer.

With the people's sympathetic looks and reassuring smiles.

They know I have lost everyone and everything I have ever cared for.

I do not know what to do.

I do not know where to go.

But I am certain that I must leave.