Ты pull up to you're moms house after getting abused by your father. Ты limp inside as she is on the диван, мягкий уголок with vodka. "MOM"! Ты shout at she sees Ты looking at the bottle. "I'm so sorry-name-". She hugs Ты as Ты cringe because of a bruise on your arm. She is shocked when Ты tell her what happened. Quickly she calls the police and they arrest him and bring Ты for questioning. Ты break down in tears as Ты tell them Ты are sexually abused every week Ты are there. When you're father is put in jail for twenty years Ты believe Ты are at ease. Days after Ты fall down your stairs at your house because of a problem with your legs. At the ER Ты are told your legs have stopped working permanently. Your mother claims she doesn't know how it happened but after talking to the police she tells Ты she tried to kill Ты when Ты were a baby in her womb and took pills and drugs. As Ты are disgusted with her Ты drive away. 8 years later Ты are 24 and are getting married. At the wedding you're mother and father come up to Ты and say a very populiar line. "Im sorry -name- please forgive us" Ты didn't and Ты walked away from abuse and lies.
January 16, 1815
Journal,
We have gotten fortunate, Journal! Nastea has found coats in the broken down train. She sits by Sasha now, covering her in them. And she took one for herself as well. I can see color returning to Sasha’s cheeks. Nastea coughs harshly, shivering nervously. Her toes are turning blue, and one has already fallen off. We slept in the train last night, getting as much warmth as we could. We have to start to Переместить tomorrow, find shelter. The berries Nastea fed Sasha seem to have made Sasha a lot sicker than she was before. She’s coughing up blood now. The snow around her is stained with red and pink. I attempted to make a огонь earlier, and let me tell Ты journal, it didn’t work out. It’s much to cold to start flames. For every time the огонь ignites, it extinguishes, the harsh winds blowing it out. I’m losing my teeth, journal. Nastea can’t talk anymore, and her and Sasha’s hair is mostly gone. Journal, what’s happening to us?
Bye Journal,
Nadia
Journal,
We have gotten fortunate, Journal! Nastea has found coats in the broken down train. She sits by Sasha now, covering her in them. And she took one for herself as well. I can see color returning to Sasha’s cheeks. Nastea coughs harshly, shivering nervously. Her toes are turning blue, and one has already fallen off. We slept in the train last night, getting as much warmth as we could. We have to start to Переместить tomorrow, find shelter. The berries Nastea fed Sasha seem to have made Sasha a lot sicker than she was before. She’s coughing up blood now. The snow around her is stained with red and pink. I attempted to make a огонь earlier, and let me tell Ты journal, it didn’t work out. It’s much to cold to start flames. For every time the огонь ignites, it extinguishes, the harsh winds blowing it out. I’m losing my teeth, journal. Nastea can’t talk anymore, and her and Sasha’s hair is mostly gone. Journal, what’s happening to us?
Bye Journal,
Nadia
The pookie fell from a дерево
upon hitting the ground he farted
scared at his own flatulence he tried climbing up the tree. But for every branch he grabbed he tooted. and for every twig he broke, he farted.
farting all the way up, pookie climed that tree. He had to make it to the вверх Ты see, cause that where pookie's make pee. Relief was almost in reach for pookie. till a stiring occurred within.. a rumbling sensation, and pookie knew.. with a tear, that he couldn't hold it in.
Till this день those who were near сказал(-а) it sounded like a cow mooing. The momentum of his farts became like a rocket and shot pookie up and out that tree! Up in to the sky..till pookie could not be seen.
moral of story? dont eat beans. O_o
Далее chapter "The pookie Returns"