II.3

ROGER WILLIS

I couldn’t get myself to sleep at night and that’s mostly because I am locked in this claustrophobic prison of confusion. I couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation that I had with Mr. Lykaios at the clinic. He must be on crack or some shit when he mentioned those things about werewolves. What’s next? Witches and fairies? I don’t think so. I don’t intend on believing him at all. And then there’s Carmine Reid giving me these cryptic messages and she even said I smelled like a rotting dog. I know I didn’t take a shower yesterday because I was feeling awfully sick but those are very specific descriptions that I don’t think even matches how I smelled.

In addition to all of that, I could hear my mom and dad arguing about the very same shit for the nth time. Their room was very far from my room and I’m sure the walls in this house are way thicker than what we had from our old house but I don’t understand why I could hear their voices. I thought we came here to start over a