August 20th

They took my drawing things away today. They said they wanted to see if the bugs would come out. I don't want them to come out. I think it will hurt if they do.

I can already feel them crawling and crawling, digging under my skin. It hurts! Mommy, why did you leave me here with these people? I don't like these people. They used to be so nice. Now they want to hurt me! I just want to go home. Why won't you come and bring me home, Mommy? I promise I'll be a good girl from now on!

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The bugs are hurting me again. It feels like they're digging behind my eyes. My brain feels like it's breaking. I don't like this.

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I made drawings with my poop. I don't think the nurses noticed yet. It's very dark against the white walls. The bugs came out when I did, but this time it was very bad. I think it's me trying to hurt my nurse. I don't want to hurt her! She's very pretty.

I guess the bugs don't live in the pen, after all.

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This is a work of fiction.
The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.