a/n: the bad grammar used here is only to enhance Jim's drunken state

October 16th

I was in Raven's room today and she told me that she wouldn't be in town for my birthday, so she decided to give my present early and boy, is it ever odd! It's one of those Burger diner mascots; you may've heard 'em referred to as "Bob's big boy" It's usually huge and looks a little too happy. This one doesn't even look jolly; it looks psychotic. I still think it's cool though. By the way, the medication we got from the psychiatrist my psychologist recommended are working real well. I don't hear any creepy, soft voices much nowadays. I hope it stays that way.

November 1st

"Hey, Johnny." A familiar voice drunkenly chuckled. I can still here the slurring high pitched giggle in my ears. It was a Saturday night and I was out for a walk because I had nothing better to do. Around here, it's also a perfect time for the rich kids and the homeless outcasts to get drunk and fool around like jackasses. October 31st, Halloween, was no exception. I turned around to see Jim, dressed in his normal "goth" attire, but slowly swaying from side to side, as if trying to keep his balance.

"H-Hi Jim." I muttered, feeling uneasy about seeing him in this state. He had never, ever had a drink of alcohol in his life and had always looked down upon drunk people.

"I gotta ask youz someithn.."

"yeah?"

"Are you a fag?" he asked with a slur. This caused the other sharply dressed teens behind him to convulse into high pitched laughter mixed with little hiccups.

"No, and even if I was, what'd be wrong with that?"

Jim's mouth dropped wide open. "Dude, you have sex with guys!"

"No," I replied slowly backing away, "I don't,"

I began to walk away as I watched Jim standing there teetering from side to side. . I took a few more steps back, still keeping my eye on him. When I was about three feet away, I finally turned my back on him and began to run home. After a few minutes, I heard a number heavy footsteps behind me and I knew that it had to be Jim. I began to run faster and faster, but Jim finally tackled me and began pounding me in the stomach while the others cheered him on. I was helpless; my limbs wanted to kick and punch him, but my nerves were frazzled and dead. Or so it seemed because something odd happened a few minutes later. The voices had broken into my mind and were demanding that I destroy him in any manner possible. Then, I lunged for his throat as if I was possessed by some demon and pinned him down as I reached for the pocket knife that I usually carry and- well, I can't really remember what happened after that. All I remember is waking up in a hospital room alone. When I looked at my hands, I saw very faint blood droplets.

I apparently cried for help because in less then a second, a doctor with brown hair and glasses came in and comforted me. He told me that a woman living nearby the street I met Jim and called the paramedics when she saw me passed out and unconscious along with him on the ground twitching with a brutally mangled arm. I then felt a painful lurch in my stomach: was I the one who had slashed his arm? It was certainly possible, but the only real thing I could do now was sleep and wait and see.

2:00 A.M. Part 2 of my story

I awoke to hear that Jim was in critical condition: they were going to have to amputate his arm, but it was still a possibility that he'd die due to blood loss. I wanted to see him, but the nurse told me that he didn't want any visitors. My mother then arrived to visit and was relieved to see that I was alive. I told her about how Jim tried to beat me up, but didn't tell her about my attempt to murder.

The next morning, I found out that Jim had died overnight which made me even more paranoid. Later, I snuck out my room and called Phlegm. I told him that I'd explain everything once he picked me up.. On the way, we stopped by Raven's home to say goodbye, but she wasn't home. I hope she wasn't upset about the note we left. He took me to his house on Winston Avenue where he let me sleep in his messy, but livable guest room.

November 2nd

So here I sit at Phlegm's house on my bed with the room's door closed in case the police come looking for me or if I get the voices in my brain again. I'm very on edge right now and I want to stop writing.