It is Saturday, or Sunday now. Turns out I'm not moving quite yet, so that's good. Also, Isaiah and Bitchy weren't home for most of the night, so I wrote so much. However...
I lie in my bed, writing still, Gen may be gone, and I may be more secure in myself, but I'm still insecure. I still have nobody. I still don't have anyone by my side. I just want someone who makes me feel safe, confident, powerful. Is that so much to ask?
I look up a few online quizzes on why girls don't like me. I get conflicting answers and decide to disregard them entirely. I then proceed to look up how to get your family out of your life, clearing all of this from my browser afterwards. I don't find much of anything.
My burried hatred and desperation to finish this book I've been working on manifest as a welling sadness, making me want to cry at how trapped I am in this wretched house.
"Just keep writing," Edgar smiles, "it'll be OK."
"Shut up," I growl.
"Look," Edgar sighs, "you can't keep this up. You're breaking. We can either run, or you can surrender yourself to me. Make your choice."
"I won't give in," I retort, "not like this. I already cancled my fanfics to focus on my novels. I'll get it done, then, when I'm free. You'll finally shut up."
"I can get you free so much sooner. How about you just give in for a minute? Just to see what it's like?"
"Fine," I sigh, "but make it quick."
I cry a tear, and surrender myself Edgar...