I found a gun today under my couch. It’s weird, almost fancy. It’s sliver plated with a gold inscription that read, “Thou shalt not kill.” I hid it in a pot in the kitchen.
I talked to my sister today. She hadn’t talked to me since the funeral. Somewhere I lost two days and my entire memory of this guy, Jacob. I didn’t tell her about the journal. I feel like I need to keep it secret and need to keep writing in it.
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