Chapter 4, Week 1: Monday

I sit at the desk, hair masking my face. My pen scratches away at the small paper in front of me, writing in a code that no one understands. 'Everything right is wrong again,' it reads. Of course, only I would know that. My brain broadcasts thoughts upward. 'What happened? I thought you were going to protect me.' This is just culture shock. I know it is. Give me a week, perhaps just a day, and I'll be fine. Despite this fact, the darkness still claws at the edges of my thoughts.