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The bustle around me is lost to this feeling.
The police are questioning me, but my answers are merely mechanical.
The moment I saw him hanging there it hit me.
I was helpless.
Throughout my life I've tried to be independent. To rely primarily on myself for the things I needed….and the things I wanted.
Never before have I felt this way. Never before have thoughts like these screamed inside my head and filled me with desperation. As I left the door open for you, I felt sorrow and anger.
But right now, in this moment, I feel the one emotion I try to push away the most.
Fear.
I nearly died from an overdose. I nearly went to prison. There's a stranger following me. And now my father is dead….just as my relationship with him was beginning to mend.
It was no suicide. No matter how many times they tell me that, I know the truth.
He was murdered.
And it's possible that "Lance" could be connected to all of this. He keeps popping up everywhere I go. He follows and pries and stares. There's something wrong about him.
It's all just too much for me to handle.
And I'm so afraid.
I'm afraid, Michael, and I need you.
As I sit here and watch these people in a panic over my father, that thought consumes all others.
I need you.
Please….find me.
