Tuesday, March 10, 2009. 4:39 AM.
What I remember from that night:
the blood running down his forearm,
the blood that had splashed on the desk,
the blood smeared on my neck from when he put his hands there.
The thought of I Want To Go Home;
remembering that I haven't been home in years.
The thought of What Would My Father Think if he saw me like this;
remembering how much I missed my father.
The thought of:
I remember thinking that I would die that night.
I remembered telling him
SHOUTING AT HIM
to kill me.
And I think I might have meant it, but I don't remember that part too well.
Japanese: 'I want to go home, please let me go home.'