Umm, like what, I would say.
There is nothing I can't do. And Tom would disagree with me and tell
me I wasn't worth crap. I would scream at him then-Ahh! Stop! Leave
me alone! I am worth something to myself, even if you don't find me
worthwhile.
The whole problem was that I refused to help with the murder. I had always claimed that I could do anything, and Tom dared me to kill a random stranger. I couldn't handle that type of guilt. Tom kept calling me a sissy; Finally, he just up and kills the person himself. Now we are both sitting on the front porch of Tom's house trying to figure out what to do about the dead body.
Tom figures that we can take the corpse in his truck out into the country, and just dump him in a farmer's field. I say, like, no, that wouldn't work. They could find our DNA on his body.
So I recommended that we go in the back yard at night and have a huge bonfire and then throw the body into the flames. And Tom stutters and says \"What a stupid idea.\" I think the idea is brilliant, but I don't want to question Tom. Who knows what he could do to me if he got angry.
Tom starts to puzzle over the situation and then bursts out with the idea of tossing the body into the city lake, figuring that it will rot and get eaten by fish before anyone discovers it.
I tell Tom that I don't want to do that, just because. I don't have a reason. And he is like, umm, I don't care what you think. And so I pull out the knife in my pocket and threaten to stab Tom in the arm if he doesn't do what I tell him. Tom just laughs at me and pulls out his pistol. I tease Tom that he would never use that weapon against me, but Tom warns that he is a dangerous boy. Now it was my turn to cackle. While we were debating who was going to kill who, a stray dog comes up behind Tom and Tom freaks out when the dog starts licking his neck. Tom was so afraid that he turns around and accidently fires his weapon. The bullet enters my thigh. I scream in agony. The neighboor lady looks out her window. I take the gun from Tom and shot the lady in the window because I don't, like, want her to reveal that she saw Tom shoot me. Tom could get in trouble.
So now we have two dead bodies on our hands and I have a wound that is gushing out blood.
Tom decides that now would be a good time to call 911. I complain that a stupider idea has never been thought up in this world. Tom, looking at me funny, asks what I want to do about the laceration. He had just finished up a chapter about first aid in health class. I tell him to fix my problem without consulting with professionals. Tom stands up and looks around the neighborhood.
I start to groan in agony because the feeling of shock has started to wear off. Tom doesn't know what to do with a moaning Cynthia, so he runs into the neighbor lady's house to take care of her. Tom decides that we should just bring the two bodies into the lady's house and burn the house down and then call 911 so they can stop the fire and then we can tell them that I got injured escaping from the burning house. I go along with this brillant plan. At least Tom is now using his brain. After all the loose ends have been stitched together, Tom starts the lady's curtains on fire. Waiting outside, Tom joins me back on the porch. After waiting for the majority of the house to burn down, we call the police and report this emergency.
The cops, ambulance, and fire truck all arrive within minutes and I am rushed to the hospital while the police question Tom. I hope he doesn't tell them anything, or at least just enough to get them off our backs. Meanwhile, I am sitting in the hospital recording the true events in my diary. I hope this entry never falls into the wrong hands. Or the right hands, if you believe in justice.";"Umm, like what, I would say. There is nothing I can't do. And Tom would disagree with me and tell me I wasn't worth crap. I would scream at him then-Ahh! Stop! Leave me alone! I am worth something to myself, even if you don't find me worthwhile.
The whole problem was that I refused to help with the murder. I had always claimed that I could do anything, and Tom dared me to kill a random stranger. I couldn't handle that type of guilt. Tom kept calling me a sissy; Finally, he just up and kills the person himself. Now we are both sitting on the front porch of Tom's house trying to figure out what to do about the dead body.
Tom figures that we can take the corpse in his truck out into the country, and just dump him in a farmer's field. I say, like, no, that wouldn't work. They could find our DNA on his body.
So I recommended that we go in the back yard at night and have a huge bonfire and then throw the body into the flames. And Tom stutters and says \"What a stupid idea.\" I think the idea is brilliant, but I don't want to question Tom. Who knows what he could do to me if he got angry.
Tom starts to puzzle over the situation and then bursts out with the idea of tossing the body into the city lake, figuring that it will rot and get eaten by fish before anyone discovers it.
I tell Tom that I don't want to do that, just because. I don't have a reason. And he is like, umm, I don't care what you think. And so I pull out the knife in my pocket and threaten to stab Tom in the arm if he doesn't do what I tell him. Tom just laughs at me and pulls out his pistol. I tease Tom that he would never use that weapon against me, but Tom warns that he is a dangerous boy. Now it was my turn to cackle. While we were debating who was going to kill who, a stray dog comes up behind Tom and Tom freaks out when the dog starts licking his neck. Tom was so afraid that he turns around and accidently fires his weapon. The bullet enters my thigh. I scream in agony. The neighboor lady looks out her window. I take the gun from Tom and shot the lady in the window because I don't, like, want her to reveal that she saw Tom shoot me. Tom could get in trouble.
So now we have two dead bodies on our hands and I have a wound that is gushing out blood.
Tom decides that now would be a good time to call 911. I complain that a stupider idea has never been thought up in this world. Tom, looking at me funny, asks what I want to do about the laceration. He had just finished up a chapter about first aid in health class. I tell him to fix my problem without consulting with professionals. Tom stands up and looks around the neighborhood.
I start to groan in agony because the feeling of shock has started to wear off. Tom doesn't know what to do with a moaning Cynthia, so he runs into the neighbor lady's house to take care of her. Tom decides that we should just bring the two bodies into the lady's house and burn the house down and then call 911 so they can stop the fire and then we can tell them that I got injured escaping from the burning house. I go along with this brillant plan. At least Tom is now using his brain. After all the loose ends have been stitched together, Tom starts the lady's curtains on fire. Waiting outside, Tom joins me back on the porch. After waiting for the majority of the house to burn down, we call the police and report this emergency.
The cops, ambulance, and fire truck all arrive within minutes and I am rushed to the hospital while the police question Tom. I hope he doesn't tell them anything, or at least just enough to get them off our backs. Meanwhile, I am sitting in the hospital recording the true events in my diary. I hope this entry never falls into the wrong hands. Or the right hands, if you believe in justice.";"Umm, like what, I would say. There is nothing I can't do. And Tom would disagree with me and tell me I wasn't worth crap. I would scream at him then-Ahh! Stop! Leave me alone! I am worth something to myself, even if you don't find me worthwhile.
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