So seeing a good friend without his head, a figure in the darkness, and finding out I was the only survivor of that fire wasn't how I'd want to spend my Saturday but hey I had responsibilities. I had to say I was surprised to wake up in the hospital a few days after.  Pretty crowded here a lot of people are getting sick now, some people are thinking something about it being connected to the fire but I don't see how that makes sense. Just scared people making assumptions. I still feel pretty shitty but I guess that makes sense when you inhale as much smoke as I did.

Practically painted my lungs black with the stuff. I have a hard time breathing still but my burns weren't too bad and healed pretty fast, so fast I woke up without any. The doctors were confused and had me tested, I actually had a lot of tests done. My mom wanted too make sure I wasn't too traumatized, it was a strange feeling having her worry so much since she doesn't seem to care too much about me, but that's another thing and the therapist the hospital had me talk to said to fill this notebook with thoughts of the fire only.

I guess it's supposed to help clear my head, keep me from internalizing everything. To keep me from not acknowledging what happened, but I mean how can I not after everything. You don't just turn your back on stuff like that. Seeing a man without his head really changes the way you think you know. I still have the feeling of his blood on my hands, every time I go to the bathroom I catch myself scrubbing too hard to get rid of it. Just another thing to add to my list of reasons why I should be crazy. Right under seeing monsters. The therapist says I made it up, I guess as a way to give form to my fears. Away to cope with what I was going through she says.  It just felt too real to just be a figment of my imagination, the way it starred at me felt too human to be fake. 

The way he stood, his face, his eyes. No he was real, no way he wasn't. I'm sure he cause the fire, not that the police in this town give a fuck. They think Wally started it, They say it was revenge because he heard he was gonna be fired. the man's head was chopped clean off and they said he did that to himself, suicide they're ruling it. Who the fuck in their right mind calls that suicide. They looked at me real hard too, I can understand that after they found me bloody, burnt and passed out on that bench.  They changed their minds after Travis' constant badgering that I wouldn't hurt a fly. Of course the police report on me didn't help me either, break one guy's arm and your marked for life. Didn't help that Patrick's dad was the lead investigator, or that I was raving about a red haired monster from hell. I learned to keep my mouth shut after that, haven't spoken much these days. They stopped allowing Rose and Travis to visit after the first week on my mom's orders, kind of wish she would go on another drug binge and leave me the fuck alone. 

I know that's a fucked up thing to say and I'm sorry but I'm happier when she's gone, either on a business trip or another binge. Even though there's not much difference these days. I heard she collected on Seth's life insurance policy already as well, I wonder where that went to. Oh and I forgot to mention that she didn't even have a funeral for Seth. Just cremated him and didn't even think to mention it until yesterday when I asked when the funeral was. I'm not too keen about this journal anymore, this is starting to get real hard for me. I'm just excited to get out of here, though the doctors want to keep me for at least two more weeks. At least I'll miss the dance.