I asked her where is P.J, and she said he is being checked. I nodded. She then explained about my condition.
She told me that the bullets were extracted, and said I should get out of recovery in a few days. I asked her if my dad knew about this, and she shook her head. I quickly asked her for any phone I could have, then she grabbed a phone connected to a phone line next to the desk.
She placed it on my chest, and asked me if that was all. I nodded, and she left the room. I then ringed up my dad... I...wasn't going to tell him the truth. He'd be really worried and/or heartbroken if he found out about this. He picked it up with a "Hello" as always. I told him it was me, and always shouts /Maxie/ when I tell him that. God, I told him so many damn times that it's Max - not Maxie. Anyway, he asked me that's it's been a long time since I was outside. I..told him I went to the hospital, and he asked why. I told him...
..I told him...
I told him I started feeling sick so I went to the hospital. He said that's fine, and I told him I'll.. have to stay in recovery for a few days. I was stupid at that part. They wouldn't let you stay in the hospital just because of a sickness, but, my dad actually fell for it. He told me fine, and he'll call me soon. I said alright with a goodbye, and hung up the phone. That's when P.J came in my room.
We stared at eachother for a few seconds, then P.J came closer to me, approaching me. He asked me how's everything going. I ignored the question. I simply told him to NOT tell my dad about what happened with those guys. Infact, they remind me of those Gammas, but twice as violent. He then told me that he also called his dad up, and his dad was mad about how late he was to return home. He told me that his mom, Peg, will leave Spoonerville for about a year and a half with Pistol, to who knows where. I have no idea.
P.J said he had to go back home, and I told him to tell my dad that I'm doing fine everyday. What a terrible lie I had to do.
The next day- ..Actually, screw this. I'm never writing about this crap ever again. EVER again. I'm going to find a way to get this off of my head, I'm done with this.
**At the very bottom of the page lies about a sentence or two, written in ink.*
March 13.
"There's this girl, called Mona. She's a freshman, right now, I'm still a sophomore. Maybe we can be together sometime- Heck, she even talked to me the other d"
**The writing finishes on the letter D.*
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That's the end, guys. No part 3. :x Happy Thanksgiving to all of you and also to Autumn-Artist93! :D
