July 4
Dear Stranger,
I hate diaries. Don’t ask me why. It is like how children hate wearing hats, there is no exact reason at all. Except maybe that they are annoying as hell. The reason I write in you is that I have some things to get off my chest and I refuse to write a diary. It all started with Independence Day.
The lights above me sparkled. Such a peculiar sight, I thought. On Independence Day, skies all over the United States were coated in colored lights and that resulted in happiness. Happiness. That was something I began to lose sight of. In my defense, it’s not at all my fault. It is alcohol’s fault. It’s my parents fault. It’s the universe’s fault. It’s everyone’s fault.
My parents were always drunk. They blamed me for all their problems and for a while I did too. For wasn’t I the reason they drunk in the first place? When the drunken pair were killed at an out of control party on Independence Day, I blamed myself. That is what they would have done.
When I ran away, it wasn’t because I didn’t want to become an orphan, it was because I was disgusted by myself. But as time progressed, I have learned that it wasn’t. They chose what they did, not me.
Living on the run is one of the most thrilling things a person can experience. First, you are completely and utterly free. No one, and I mean no I one, can ever stop you. Second, is the sights. Oh God, the sights. I have been all over the United States and I can tell you wholeheartedly that the world is a beautiful place. Under all this calamity we call murder, hate and evil, there is utter beauty. No matter what, rivers will run, grass will sway, tides will crash and wind will always blow. But the most important of theses three points is the people. I once read a quote by Anne Frank where she says people are truly good at heart. I can only agree. Once, there was a criminal who snatched a lady’s purse, but then a random stranger chased him down the block and retrieved the bag. Why? I can only answer that by saying that his heart was full of goodness.
Today is Independence Day, as you probably can tell. I abhor this day. The memories all seem to come back of the two monsters who hurt and broke me. I have seen so much virtue that I can never seem to understand the fact they had none. Did they even love me, their only child?
No. The answer is no. I am truly alone in the world. In a book I read human’s fatal flaw was that we make ties between others that can only lead to heartbreak, but I have made none. The only time I was even noticed was when I went missing and I doubt anybody cared.
So the reason I write this today is to be perceived. I want someone to know I am out there somewhere watching the same sky saying hello.
My name is Cam Night. I don’t have any family or friends. My hair is a wild mess (that is a problem of living on the run) and it simply enjoys being that way. I dress in a lot of black but I promise I’m not goth. I want a nose piercing, but I can’t afford one. At the moment my leg is bruised. It is quite agonizing. There is only thirty dollars in my pocket and that presents many problems. I believe in fairies and miracles, but not the impossible. Sorry, but licking your elbow will never be possible.
Okay, I won’t bother you anymore. I am going to leave this letter in a random windowsill that seems to lead to a child's room. But please, please, remember me. Just as the person who is alone. The person who can’t find their place in the universe. The person who made you smile or frown. I just want to be noticed.
So tonight, before you go to bed, wish goodnight to me.
I promise I will wish you one too.















With the deepest love and thanks,















Cam