Fjortonde Oktober -

It's my fourth day here at the new school and for homework we've all been assigned an English project where we have to keep a journal. Our whole class groaned when Mr Thomas, our teacher set it. Apart from me, of course. I don't think it's such a bad idea though, the only worry I have is that he's going to check through them thoroughly and read what we've written, not just 'flick through to see you're using them properly,' like he said he would. He promised he wouldn't read, and if he doesn't keep his promise I am lost. Since I don't get my thoughts out vocally, not even to myself I think it's worth trying to get them down on paper.

I don't even know what I'm doing here. Well, I suppose I do, it's to make me talk. They sent me here because they want me to talk, but I don't want to talk. I haven't spoken in so long I've actually forgotten what my voice sounds like and that scares me. And they're sick of being the parents of the freak loner who won't speak, so they send the freak to a boarding school.

Things aren't exactly good for me here either, you know. A few days ago I got accused of stealing from someone in my dorm called Arthur, but I never did it. I wouldn't, not enough nerve or need to really. But I guess at least I'm away from where I'm not wanted.

That's a lie; I'm no more wanted here than I was back at home.

I'm tired, I think I'll go to bed now, although I'm not sure what the point is, Tino will probably stay up talking to Lukas way past lights out anyway.