31 December 2012
*Was tired. Random.*
Poor Isabelle. I almost feel sorry for her, except I don't. She always was a lying, two-faced, backstabber. Poor Isabelle. I think I do feel sorry for her, just a little bit. How could someone like her ever get anywhere? I guess jail was the right place, since she'd end up there anyway.
The sun starts to set, turning the world blood red. A car swerves down the road, blue and red lights flashing not far behind it. I smile, oh Tommy. He was always a wild one, he was always on the run. I bite my lip, remembering those midnight escapes to go see him and all the yelling and screaming. I guess if he got caught it wouldn't be so bad either.
Got caught. The cops. Yeah, I admit I'm just as guilty when it comes to sins. But sometimes I wish they'd come for me. This town, I can't escape it. Then those snobs come around thinking they know it all, but they don't. Those who don't just don't understand.
Those Who Don't • Opuss № I