hello, again. it's me, alexis.

if you're reading this, it obviously means that you need to be sent to a psychiatric ward where you can get treated, because i'm sure this damaged something in your brain.

just kidding.

kinda.

anyway, i wanted to say that if you clicked on this book and are now here, that means that you delved and survived the mystery that was ten- and eleven-year-old alexis' brain. obviously i was no edgar allan poe, no j.k. rowling, no uncle rick. but i had an imagination, no matter how strange.

we all have the capability to grow as we get older, learning new things, getting better at said things. this is honestly proof of where i've gone in three years in the category of writing.

people say my writing is great, and that's nice, but saying it's great means you're comparing it to something else. now, what that is, i don't know. but i did just want to show you that i wasn't always "great" at writing.

now, go out there and cleanse your mind of this horror.

love you,
a.r.m.o.