This is what Charlotte writes.

11.15.07

I hate to feel cornered. Snuck up upon and now I’m sitting here and everyone’s around me, blaming me, talking at me, making me cry and wish that my hair was still long so I could hide behind it. It was a sneak attack, too. Out of nowhere. Actually, I found out later, out of left field, but still unexpected. I was doing what I was supposed to be, for once, studying for a history test that I had the next day, my first of the year, and I was awful proud. Things were good until they started to tear me apart. It’s amazing how many ways you can say “It’s not your fault” while meaning the opposite.

I wish I could have handled it better. I wish I could have sat up and taken it with a brave face. I tried, but it’s hard when your eyes are betraying you and leaking tears and your breathing isn’t all that steady, either.

Oh well. Wishing to change the past won’t get you anywhere. Neither will crying about it. All you can do is learn from it. Learn to suck it up and deal with all the shit that comes your way. Sometimes being numb sucks but it’s better than the alternative. They can’t surprise you if you’re expecting them. Roll out the welcome mat, turn on the porchlight, and take a seat in the rocking chair with the rifle across your knees. You can’t hurt me.