(#8 7/12/2012)

I didn’t chop Jenna up. I don’t know why. She wasn’t that good a friend, but, somehow, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I dumped her and her leg in the river and she turned up a few days ago.

The police are investigating her death, but they haven’t questioned me yet. I know they will. I know they’ll find this blog and I’ll be through. Sometimes, I think I should confess. But then, I have to remind myself what will happen.

This doesn't feel as good as it used to.

This doesn’t feel as good as it used to.



Tears are weakness.