August 29
Well, here I am, forced out of the group and left to fend for myself. They all turned on me. Agetha, Darleen, Kennith. Kennith. The poor bastard killed himself. I don’t know how he had the guts, but he did it. He slipped a knife into his belly.
Damn shame. Apparently it wasn’t clear to the women that it was suicide, because once Agetha suggested I had something to do with it, the two of them talked about it so much they just believe it now.
If you ask me, I was one of the only people keeping it together. Agetha was the worst. She kept making hard conversation with everyone. She even told me I was stealing from her at some point. It doesn’t matter now though, it’s just me and the road now.
I don’t know where I am, but I’m camped in a grove off of some freeway. I’ve been following it for two nights. This is my first day on my own and I don’t see how I will make it. I don’t even know how to make a fire.
I still have the 1911 pistol though, so if I go down in a fight, I’ll go down shooting. Hopefully this freeway leads somewhere civilized. It’s a strange feeling. I know that they are everywhere, but on calm days like today, it’s easy to pretend.
I hope to write again.
– William S. Tuller
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