For the next ten days I stayed as far away from Hawkeye as I could and wrote rantings of how STUPID I was in my journal.
As I was about to scream at myself mentally again, I stopped. Why was I telling myself this?
Dear Captain Pierce,
This isn't a plea for forgiveness...just what I want to say but can't say in person. I am so, so sorry about what I said about my mother. You're right. No one cares about Clark and me. I don't. And I never will.
Please forgive me. I want to continue this but the words aren't here. I'm incredibly sorry for being insensitive.
Captain Waters
I folded the paper up and went over to the Swamp. The only person there was B.J.
"B.J.!" I hissed.
He turned around. "Come on in."
I opened the door. "I have a note for Hawkeye."
"That's nice, but he can't play anything but the radio."
"THIS kind of note." I held the paper up.
"I was wondering when one of you would come to the other." B.J. grinned. "Jac, Hawkeye doesn't hate you. He's been tossing and turning for the past nine nights. It's about driven Charles crazy. And he's been talking in his sleep."
"I've driven a man to insanity," I muttered. "This is wonderful." I handed B.J. the note. "Will you give this to Hawkeye? Don't tell him it's from me, or else it might never get read."
"It'll get read," B.J. promised.