Jeffery came to visit me.
i don't know, if i strike him like a person who appreciated him, but i am not. he must be really blunt to see past my stone cold face when i look at him.
his hair was curly and messy. he got purple bags under his eyes. he seemed like he was completely fine.
but he said otherwise. explaining why he left me on the side of a road in the middle of the night, when it was pouring and fucking cold.
i didn't bother listening him. i just sat there, on my squeaky chair, and stared to the yellow wallpaper behind him, until he left.
YOU ARE READING
Memoir Of An Insane
Short StoryKayla is the definition of messed up. After the traumatic events in her life, she is admitted in a mental facility, where she begins writing a diary. There, she writes down her thoughts, emotions and life. ;contains diary entries, texts, events, p...
