Departure
I’ll be gone by tonight.
The last thing I want to risk is dad coming home early tomorrow while I am preparing to leave.
The place isn’t as he left it. When he returns, it’s likely he will think he’s been broken into.
I’ve left him a photo of myself on the kitchen counter. Just so he knows it was me.
He’ll have questions. On the back, I’ve left him the answers:
This was never meant to be for him. But there is no better way to explain to him what has happened to me. It has helped me understand well enough.
There is one more chapter left to write. I’ll set it to post after I’ve left.
My bags are packed, even though I have no idea where I will take them.
But I know where I will go.
Twenty foot letters from the heavens to the ground read:
“City of the Lost Boys: Never to be found.”
