It`s late, but I can`t sleep, I am stuck in a big, empty house, with empty people.
Everything has always been easy for me, too easy (and it still is): You can fix anything with money. I was born here in the US, but moved to Norway when I was three years old. Now I`m back and I hate it. I hate this country and I hate my life. I hate my school, my aunt and the facades of precariousness and sorrow.
At least, my secrets remain secret and dreams remain dreams. I got a big house with a cat, a garden with flowers and a wardrobe filled with silk. And no one will ever take my voice away.