Short Story Number Six Hundred and Ninety Nine
I sometimes think that I’m not the same as everyone else, you know? That I’m different and lonely I guess. That I’m never going to connect with anyone. And sometimes I like to stay inside my room for hours and hours and pretend that nothing will hurt me. I know that I should just grow up and be ok and everything, but I’m not sure that I want to do that yet. I’m not sure that I can.