Flat on my back, I wonder if I should redecorate my room before I go. If I ever have the guts to go. Sorry, not “guts”.
Sitting up slightly, I realise something: If I were to go now, I wouldn’t leave any of my “friends” a note. Maybe they’d wonder why they didn’t get one, but one can’t be too hopeful in this filthy world.
Standing infront of my covered mirror, I try to see through the blue fog of my jumper.
No, I wouldn’t leave them the letters, but I would make sure to leave my family some.