Shit. I was having a nice dream when I got a call. 3 a.m. Lovely. What's even lovlier is that now I'm supposed to be the only one who can help. I was kicking myself all of yesterday for not seeing the signs, for not noticing when I should have been keeping an eye out. Now I feel like stabbing myself. Not that I would be able to do it. I'm too afraid of feeling pain.

All I want to do now is to not care. I've been doing that a lot of my 13 years of living. I know I can't. I know I have to do something. They've told me what, but being the pessimist that I am, I sort of believe it won't work. Nothing will.

I need for life to be okay right now. It's almost 2009. School's just around the corner. Things aren't exactly ready for normalcy at this point of time. You know, this incident makes sense, even if in a somewhat twisted way. What a way to end the most horrid year of my life.

Fucking bipolars.