Dear journal,

I woke up this morning to see a note on the fridge.
It said,
'dear Mark, guess what honey? Mama got herself a new part time job. Isn't that wonderful? With this job we'll be able to afford better food, clothes and furniture just like we both wanted. I work on the weekends now. If you want to leave the house at any time, text me when you leave and text me again once you return. Love, mama.'

I really love my mom, I wish I could get myself a job and help her, but with school and all of my personal bull shit, I don't know if I could keep one. I had one once at a convenience store but mom made me quit when my grades started slipping. She said I couldn't balance having a job and going to school at the same time. My grades slipping had nothing to do with my job, it had to do with me skipping to avoid bullies, hate, and the criticism I get from my teachers.

I grabbed myself a cup of orange juice and made myself some toast with grape jelly.
Writing in this journal is kind of addictive. I just have to make sure that no one ever reads this but myself. If I ever run the risk of someone reading this, I'll burn this and scatter the ashes.

It was 12:30, I always sleep in whenever I can. I checked my phone to see 6 text messages, all from Becka.

Becka 👻: hey, guess what?

Becka 👻: you're not the only gay person I know anymore

Becka 👻: turns out two of my cousins are gay....
For each other.
And get this...

Becka 👻: they're twins too.

Becka 👻: #twincestiswincest am I right? Hahaha😅

Becka 👻: also my parents are gone for the weekend. Wanna come over for a sleep over or something? Never had one, might be cool. I got invited to one by this chick named Eliza. You don't know her, you lucky bastard. I said no of course. Any ways, come over ok. Or don't. What eves.

A sleep over huh? One night at someone else's house couldn't hurt, right? I texted my mom and asked her if I could go. I couldn't just disappear and have my mom worry about me when she gets back. I can't hurt my mom.

To mom: mom. Can I sleep over at my friends house?

15 minutes later.

Mom: sorry Hun, I was working so that's why it took so long to reply. Of course you can sleep over at your friends house. What's his name?

To mom: ....it's a female friend.

Mom: ...oh. Well then. Remember when I gave you the special talk?

To mom: it's not like that mom!!

To mom: this a platonic relationship mom!!

Mom: oh! Well I'm sorry Hun. You enjoy yourself then.

To Becka 👻: sure...where do you live?

Becka 👻: bakers street, house number 24. It's close to our school, except you take a left at the lamppost and then keep going straight. Then cross the street near that convenience store we went to the other day, make a right near that red mail box and then you're at bakers street. You can show up any time today. The earlier the better. My house is pretty empty...

I think I know where's she's talking about, I appreciate how she used land markings I know.

To Becka 👻: ok, thanks.

I packed some stuff and walked over to her house using the directions she gave me. I gotta leave my journal here though, I can't risk anyone reading this. I'm gonna put this under my mattress where I always keep it and write more when I come back. I wonder if writing can be an addiction.