I haven’t written in this journal for a week. I’m too depressed to do anything. I don’t go to Poppy’s. I don’t want to be around anybody I know. I ride my bike. I wander the mall.
My birthday was Crap City. I got the Gray Shadow Crimestoppers kit. It has a hat and magnifying glass and handcuffs and whistle and Crimestoppers manual, and I couldn’t care less. I just wanted the day to be over. Poppy whispered that he was never so nervous in his life as he was sneaking me back into my room. If I thought my parents wouldn’t make me get up, I’d still be in bed.