Day 1:

I don’t think I can thank my Momma for much in my life. One thing I’ll always remember is what she told me the day before she left. “Honey, when you’re on the run, you better be keeping a journal ‘bout everything you ever seen; because someday, they’ll be a whole section o’ books about you.” So I don’t know what I’ve got to write so far, but killing a man is sure to bring some adventure.

Day 2:

I don’t remember much about my childhood. I remember J.J., the man who walked out on me and my momma when I was about three. Momma said he was a no good dirt bag, and all he wanted was to go places, see people. When he left, he put 50,000 dollars in the bank, and left a crate of beer in the fridge. We sure could’a used that money throughout my life. I guess she forgot about it. She worked so hard, three jobs. Though, somehow, all the money just disappeared. When I was about 16, we were out of an apartment, we were out of food, and clothes, except for a couple of outfits in a brown knapsack. I had to drop out of school. I don’t think I remember when she left; all I recall is the night I’d used up the last of my work money to recheck into the Last Resort motel. At around 2 in the morning, she still hadn’t shown up. That’s when things got terrible.

Day 3:

I didn’t mean to shoot him in the head. I didn’t mean to hide his body under the bed. I didn’t mean to hijack that car and take a bank card. And I most certainly didn’t plan any of this. It was around 3 when I started to wonder where Momma was. Whoever’s reading this is probably thinking ‘well she was just out schmoozing some guy, or out at some bar’ but you don’t get it! She always told me if she was gonna be out. She promised she would tell me if she wasn’t gonna be home. It’s not like I was scared, I’d grown up on the streets, but I didn’t want to think my own Momma could be out there, cold and dead. That’s when the doorknob moved. It wriggled around and I heard clicking. “Murderer,” I thought. I grabbed the Glock under the mattress and aimed it towards the door. The click was all I needed. I fired the gun, and hid in the bathroom. After about 20 minutes, I picked through the giant crack in the door and found a man on the floor. He looked unfamiliar, but he was dead all the same. I dragged him under the bed. “Oh my god, he’s heavy,“ I breathed. I caught my breath, proud of my strength; even though I probably shouldn’t have been. Nonetheless, I escaped out through the window.

Day 4:

I wonder if people in the insanity ward know their insane. Or if people in jail know that they did something wrong. Or if people in summer school known they failed school. I wonder if people who are dreaming know they’re dreaming. I’m different than those people. I know I killed, I killed an innocent man who probably just had the wrong room and thought he forgot his key. Or maybe he was a door to door salesman. Or maybe he was one of Momma’s men. Either way I killed an innocent creature, and I was gonna go to jail. Though the way I see it, and the way Momma always said, “Why would you ever turn yourself in, then you got no possible chance of ever not going to jail. But, baby, if you run like the wind, you got a pretty good chance of never gettin’ caught.” It was common sense, right?

Day 5:

Whoever said money can’t buy happiness was obviously poor and was extremely jealous. Oh, and whoever said “A rose with the name booger would still smell sweet” or something was way off. Tonight, I checked into the Hilton, and my, my, my, a hotel may have the same idea as a motel, it most certainly is sweeter. The room cost double a motel, but it was worth. A complimentary blindfold, and the sheets are clean! It’s like being in a castle like Cinderella. I wonder if Cinderella had free samples of lotion, and hair wash, and mouth wash. I wonder if Cinderella ever heard of the Hilton. I bet she’d love it!

Day 6:

How dare that woman think I’m retarded. She asked if I needed help using the vending machine. Why, Ida shot her no faster than it takes you to say “POW”. Oh God, what did I just say? What did I just think? I gotta get out of here, I need to turn myself in!

Day 8:

Took a couple days off in an abandoned factory. Momma’s words always filled my head. “You gotta stop being such a goody two shoes. People in Mexico shoot people all of the time. You pushing some kid is like giving him a flower. He shoulda said thank you. Why, if he took my sled, he’d be in trouble.” I wasn’t a chicken, I wasn’t a goody two-shoes. I was the mean, bad straight D student Momma wanted me to be. I was everything she hoped for. I didn’t become some lawyer, because she always said lawyers put her best friends in the slammer. I… I… I did everything for that woman and what do I got to show for it? Some crappy factory and blood in my hair.

Day 9:

Too tired to talk. To whoever is reading this now, put that I liked sleeping in my biography. And tell them Cinderella never really needed to sleep. Sleeping Beauty slept enough for the both of them.

Day 15:

Who was it that said there is nothing to fear but fear itself? Did a spider ever cross their face in the middle of the night? That’s what I thought. I met some guy today. He’s gorgeous, and he even bought my soda for me at the gas station. He asked for my number. I told him I didn’t own a phone, and he laughed. I smiled, but told him that if he wants my cell phone number, he has to come back to the gas station tomorrow at 4. I think I need a cell phone now. I hope they’re not too much money. I’m down to about 45,000 dollars now. I don’t know how long I can live. I can’t get a job, nobody can know my name. They’ve been searching for me, I just know it. I’ve already cut off all my hair. If I were a princess, I’d be marrying Prince Charming, not worrying about if the cops were gonna find me.

Day 20:

I think I saw Obama on the rotary today. He was tall, but I don’t think he’d be here. He’s probably trying to win back his wife. Or is that Tiger Woods? These Tvs in stores are really starting to confuse me. I almost forgot. My memoir needs to know all about my first love. I met him at 4 at the same gas station. He smiled and had TWO coffees in his hand. That means he got me a coffee! He bought me something, and it wasn’t because he was apologizing! It was amazing. I couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot. He asked for my number, and I gave him the number to my new tracphone. He had to go back to work, but he promised to call!

Day 21:

No call. I’m just sitting here in the hotel. Please make sure you put this in my book. I am an ordinary girl with ordinary flaws. I occasionally steal a candy bar, and I have to deal with stupid boys who don’t know how to dial a number, and I killed a man. But put that in really small print so it seems like it wasn’t really a big deal. Even though it was. Momma never told me life was gonna be hard. She always said “Once you’ve got a beer in one hand, and a mistake like you on your hip, the government will take care of everything.” Make sure you also say, in my book I mean, that I promise, if I have a little girl, she won’t be a mistake. She’ll be a present.