[Chunk of pages before this have been torn out; only one copy of the previous entry remains.]

I am Zachary Blaine. I am sorry, and I'm afraid too. I don't know why I didn't realize it until now, but I guess I can chalk it up to being a bastard coward bastard. I've never thought about anyone but myself. That's what Mom taught me to do. She told me I was better than everyone, and I believed her. I don't hate her for it. She needs help too, and it's my fault I listened. It's my fault I couldn't think for myself. I hurt her too, in a way. She always wanted the best for me and she never understood I never made her understand what I wanted. And now look at me

But that's what I'm trying to fix. I'm trying to be myself. I'm trying to fix things. I don't know if it will work, but I have to since that's what I owe to everyone. I still feel sorry for myself, which is bad, but maybe I can feel sorry for other people too.

I am Zachary Blaine. I am sorry for everything I've done. The nurses say that writing this down will help me, and I want to help me. I want to do everything in my power so that I never hurt anyone again. I want to change. I want to do good.

Tomorrow, I'll

[Entry ends here. Since then, the above entry has been x-ed out with deep, jagged marks made over and over again; although the entry is still legible, it's only barely so.]