Locked in, waiting for the boarding time.
I'm not a good person.
I have never done a good thing in my life.
It all started a long time ago, when I was actually young and my mom started having this guy over our house.
This is definitely not my favourite topic but since I've been given this notebook to write my thoughts through, I feel like I should start at the very beginning.
Except that I won't. I'm not much of an open person, and I'm so not confessing to a bunch of paper. That Marshall guy said I should get a friend, someone to talk to, tell stuff and confide in. Well, as if I didn't already know what he's waiting for.
My dad, or at least the guy I thought was my father for my entire life, the guy who I looked up to, and believed in; the guy who lied to me all those years. He once told me that I was the best friend I could ever get. That I could either make myself feel worse, or better, and that the best company I could ask for was my own words. So, when I started off running, when I was forced to leave behind life as I have known it for twenty-three years, I started writing.
Not that I believe in diaries, I mean, I really do think it's a waste of time to sit and concentrate into talking to a notebook as if it was important, and that's why I have never passed the first page. I usually go on for long, and instead of clearing my mind, it all gets even more confused and I feel like crumbling. This time it won't be any different, but tonight I'm too preoccupied to stay quiet.
I knew it would all comes to this, but… I don't know, I think that deep down on me, I thought, even if only for a second, that I would get away with it. I could be wanted in Iowa, sure, but on the other downside of the Earth… I didn't think it would be the end, never thought I'd be so easily recognized.
Anyway, it was too much my fault. How come I could trust the man so… Fast? So… Out of nothing! He had given me no prove, he didn't have an agenda, or, I mean, he did have, but it was hidden. I thought he hadn't. I wasn't certain.
I know it shouldn't matter right now, but I can't help but thinking what could have been… I've been locked into a room, waiting for the damn Marshall to come and get me... Without the plane, without the freedom… Probably the only reason to keep on living I can hold on to is the thought that I can escape. But, I'm not the most hopeful girl in the world, and I'm so not writing here down this sort of stuff… I mean.
Sure as hell they won't let me into cell with a little gift notebook, so I don't want to have absolutely no clues or flaws. I've been careless for a lifetime already. But I do have a plan, and I will not turn myself in like that. Not that I'm proud of what I did, but I did it. And I'd do it again.
My feeling as a bad person, it's not for what I did, I mean, I was doing it for my mom whose eyes were too busy checking out his own back. Somebody had to take care of her.
To cut the long story short, I'm sitting in a room waiting to get on a plane which will land on L.A. and I'll be escorted to Canada, and that's where I shall find some action. Hey, you, officer, I recommend you to force your guard at the U.S. because there's wherever I'll act. I'm sorry if reading this got you any more confused than you already are. I cause this feeling on people often.
Right now, I don't wanna go to prison. There's no way I'll suffer there anymore than I do on my own mind, so no, thank you, but I'm not going. Be ready.