February 13th, 2016
Day 1866 since Zim's arrival.
1:12 PM
Something is wrong.
I can feel it. It's kind of like a 6th sense. I've spent so much time around him for the last almost 5 years now; it's so easy to read his expressions. To catch little stutters and I feel it in my bones now that something is up with Zim.
He's not loud. Well that's not true, the ass is always loud, but there's a catch there when he screams. Not the same. There's something in those magenta depths that keep secrets more securely than his blue contacts.
I'm going to confront him about it later. After skool.
We walk home together now.
It's easier this way. I don't have to hide in trash bins every few seconds to follow him and he doesn't have to shoot at every squirrel that runs by because he's paranoid.
February 13th, 2016
Later. 3 ½ hours to be exact.
4:42 PM
Zim isn't telling me anything. It's pissing me off.
Is it wrong to feel I have rights to this kind of stuff?
To know what's bothering him?
Anyways…got to ice the new wounds I have.
Wound log:
2 scratches.
Assuredly 6 bruises along my ribs cage, joining the yellowing ones from last week.
A deep cut along my right leg (New scar?)
