Sunday, 24 July 2011

-Sam- Driving

I’m not sure where we are right now.

I’m writing from the backseat of the FREE CANDY van. Amanda’s driving at the moment, and August is in the seat in front of me. I think he’s either asleep or crying, or maybe both. I don’t want to ask.

If you’re reading this blog you probably already know what happened to Cam. I found out when August dragged me out of bed at 4:00 in the morning, eyes red from crying and clutching his injured chest, and told me to get in the van. I was still three-quarters asleep, so I didn’t even realize what was going on until I was sitting in the backseat next to a pissed-off looking Amanda. Then I remembered I was still wearing pajama pants and I’d left my glasses in the house, but before I could run back and get them, August had started up the van and was pulling out of the driveway. When I asked him where we were going, he said “Just read the blog.”

So I did. And…fuck.

Elaine, I’ve never actually talked to you, but if you’re reading this, just know that we’re on our way. Everything’s going to be alright. I have no idea how long it takes to get from Vermont to Texas, but we’ll be there as fast as humanly possible.

See you soon.



  1. Thank you, but really. I'm alright. Go home. No one can do jack till next weekend.


  2. Hell no. We've never talked and I don't know a damned thing about you but your August's friend and that means it's my fucking job to help you. Got that? Because it's all you have to know

    (Sam, don't /ever/ type and drive like this we're lucky this is an empty stretch of road)