Glancing around quickly making sure just in case you were looking out the window you didn’t see me jump. I let my long hair fall over the outside of...the blanket, drifting down over my arm as I sit up, pulling my knees up into my chest keeping the blanket closed at all costs. Resting my chin on my knees I sigh and just watch the storm. ‘I’m goin’ out, you want anything?’ I hear behind me. ‘No.’ I say simply and don’t bother to turn around. ‘Fine, well I’ll be back later don’t stay out here too. Recently, I decided to publish my journals. I am not a writer and when Iset down the accounts of my ordeals, I often wrote in a form one might describeas 'streams of consciousness'. At other times I employed personal shorthand.In order that my experiences and feelings be presented in a more readable manner,I sent my journal to the author to be presented in whatever form he chose withthe proviso that both I and Sir remain anonymous. All too soon after my relationship with Sir began, I was. More

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