I need to write. It’s the only way I feel safe. It gets everything out on the table for everyone to see. I have no secrets when I write, you just have to pay close attention to the words I use. My diction matters. To you it may seem like I dance around avoiding what I’m trying to say, but look closer at my words. It was hidden there the entire time. Do you see it now? Do you finally understand what I’ve been trying to tell you? I’ve said it three times. I’ve told you what happened, about the grey hands forcing me to walk faster toa fate worse than death. Go back and look. Please.