Wednesday, November 16, 8:00 AM. Amy.

He’s sleeping. I pray he’s okay. I pray he’s okay.

It was appendicitis. We had to do it. We took it out. I had to sew him back up again. I had to put a needle into my son and sew him up like a purse.

Damn this. Damn this stupid world. What the hell has gotten into you? What were you thinking? What the hell are you trying to do to me? Damn you and damn this stupid world of yours.

Don’t take my son. Don’t take my son.