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I was in some tropical place, at a beach resort. It kinda looked like Palm Coast, but not exactly. I was on the heels of a criminal, zipping through the complexes like a maze trying to keep up with him. He was an average-looking guy; red and white baseball cap, shaggy brown hair, dark green jacket, faded jeans and dingy white sneakers.
A sudden scene change brought us to some kind of office building. I saw him -even though I wasn't actually with him- with a female "accomplice", I could only assume. Suddenly,I was hot on his trail and he jumped [or squeezed, actually], through a small slip of a window, into a secluded grassy area hidden from the parkinglot. I pursued him, turning a corner to my right into a larger space of green lawn, and followed him onto the parkinglot under a blistering sun. Suddenly, I realized that law enforcement had been turned on me, because of the security cameras and something to do with being mistaken for another perp. So then I'm standing with this guy, and we're trying to figure out what to do. We wound up searching for a getaway car to break into and hotwire-


So I'm finally home from Northcreek. *confetti and sparkly s**t* Got home yesterday around 2:45ish, and passed out until 4:13-ish. Then there was a severe thunderstorm/tornado warning until 11p.m. =__= Yaaaay.
And then I got an email from Michael saying that he did all this s**t to me that night last week.
I was shocked last night, but now I'm just feeling like s**t. Hangoverrrr.


I’m so, SO sorry. Don’t go off blaming yourself, cuz I know it’s like you to go all self-resentful for s**t that wasn’t your fault. Don’t feel bad about Kerry and me breaking up, firstly. I had it coming. She was way too good for me. Even though she gave me a black eye on the way out, believe it or not.... The thing is, what happened that night wasn’t the only reason she ditched. I can’t believe I’m saying this... but truthfully, I was looking at someone else while we were together. It isn’t important who, but I was being a d**k and didn’t see that I had a wonderful girl right beside me the whole time. I hope that over time, she’ll forgive me, but I’m pretty sure it’s over for “us”. It hurts now, a lot, but I’m sure it’ll pass eventually if we can’t working things out.
It’s stupid that I’m breaking this to you through an email, but I couldn’t bear looking you in the eyes, and I still can’t. But hear me out, and you’ll understand why.
That night, y’know, I thought bringing over some of that Zinful stuff my old lady keeps locked up would be a good idea. I really hated seeing you being so down about your friend disappearing and all. I heard some alcohol is pretty good for “painkiller”. Jesus Christ, I couldn’t have made a bigger idiot of myself if I tried. I’m so sorry.
... Alright, there’s no easy way to say this... If you wind up hating me for telling you this, I understand. I was a total dumbass and I’m ready for s**t to hit the fan. But I can’t waltz into school next year and be forced to face you with a guilty conscience. Here it goes...
I was tipsy that night, not totally wasted beyond redemption though. I remember that my judgement was shot, even though I remember almost everything that went down. We were blasting the radio in your room, and I was dancing on the front step by your door. I was practically whining for you to come with me to town, but you said you were busy, typing away on your computer. After, like, hours, I finally got you to come with me, and we went gallivanting through the streets like the town was ours. You were making wise cracks about celebrities and characters, like George Clooney and Ron Weasley. I got a real kick out of you mixing up Harry’s and Ron’s names; “Hairy Weasel”. That was just epic. You really should show your comical side more, y’know?
But anyways, we went walking, and pretty soon, you started saying some nasty stuff. Your harmless jokes became crude and vulgar. At one point, they were too offensive for me to take sitting down...
I was completely aware of what I was doing.
Every kick, cut, and jab.
But I was too pissed off, and too screwed up to stop myself.
Al, I’m so sorry. I really am. God, I don’t know what to do with myself now. I’m dying inside because I feel like s**t. My old lady found out about the wine quicker than I thought she would. You put up a hell of a fight, even when drunk, I can say that much. I thought I could sneak some coverup from her cabinets to hide the bruises and s**t, but her “motherly senses”(damn those) saw right through that (and I also forgot to screw the cap on one of her jars completely...). She and my old man interrogated me like I had been detained by the ******** police. I lied about the whole thing, said I got into a bit of a brawl when a thug jumped me,but ran away when he saw I wasn’t the guy to ******** with. For the time being, the lie worked, until she noticed the wine was gone. I modified my lie, leaving you completely out of it. She flipped out and grounded me for two months. No leaving the house, no phone, no TV, extra chores, the works. Even now though, I still don’t feel my actions are justified. I feel like I should confess everything, to my parents and yours. I’d get bashed for it big time, but I’m too chicken s**t to do that. I just don’t know what to do...
Vern and Ama-chan have been asking Kerry questions, but she won’t talk. For the love of god, I wish she would spill it already. But I know I have to take it like a man and speak for myself. I don’t want to suck them into this and get them choosing sides (even thought I can tell you they’ll side with Kerry; you will too, I bet). I just thought I should tell you first. You out of all people have a right to know what happened then. It’s pretty ******** up s**t to keep your friends in the dark about something they witnessed. Right?
Funny, how even now that I typed that s**t out, I don’t feel any better. I know I can say “sorry” as much as I want, but it’d be pointless. I got my message across, and that’s all that should matter. Again, I’m really, truly, from-the-black-depths-of-my-heart sorry. Please talk to me. It wasn’t right for me to blow you off in the first place. At this point, I’m just really hoping that one day we’ll be able to laugh about this s**t and how stupid we were. The worst part about all this is that I woke up the next morning thinking I dreamed last night.
Get back to me ASAP, please. I need to know how you’re doing and I need you to do me a favor and beat me senseless when we meet up again.


Yep. I honestly feel a mixture of guilt [given], anger and sadness. Part of me hates Michael right now, but it was partially my fault too. What to do....

Kiku Drives A Honda
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