Page 28 of Making A Weapon


Font Size:

Hole.

Hole.

Gonna die in this hole.

Cell?

Grave.

Yeah, grave.

This is a grave.

Nothing but pain and my grave.

And beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep stops sleep.

No sleep.

Pain.

Grave.

Beep.

And numbers!

What number was I at?

Fuck.

Stupid.

Stupid.

Stupid.

Useless.

Unwanted.

Alone.

1 Mississippi.

2 Mississippi.

3 Mississippi.

I lay in the dark counting again; I’m so tired. Nightmares filled with my cat-dog's bubbling skin as he rots away. I've abandoned him. But the dream never lasts long because as soon as I fall asleep, he wakes me up again.