January, the 2nd.

I'm Miguel, I'm still 11, and I am writing this diary so I don't get mad.

Two solitary clouds dancing in the pure blue just told me it will be a nice day. Were I not so tired I would join them, just a step out and I would join them.

I buried Mary yesterday. You know, from the third floor. Finally, there is nobody else, just me.

Just me and the books.

Like, I shouldn't get much obsessed with it. Besides, I was never so popular at school. No, not that I'd love to bully people around, but I love to be alone... for a time.

Today will be a nice day, but I have woken up alone, and alone I will go to bed. These obsesive thoughts are killing me, or maybe not, maybe they are more like chains fettered to my ankles...

Hey, got an idea! I shall go to the library, to pick up a couple of books; well, each one I want in fact. I think I will take my torch, just in case it's dark when I come back. There is no light any longer; did you know that? No electric light, I mean. I should take care of that too, but I still have a few batteries left.

Well, I say you goodbye, it's getting late... if I don't go on with this diary, it means that I will have died. Or well, or got lost or something...