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I'm in Wilmington right now. I think I'll stay.

I've been taken in by a "family" of homeless people. We live in an old abandoned apartment complex from I'm guessing the 20's. Some of the rooms still have old furniture in it.

Bruce and Marta who are the "mother and father". The brothers and sisters are Latoya and her little girl Crystal (I guess crystal would be more of a niece), Bobby, Rufus, Marcus, Reg and me. There there's also "Uncle Bob", an old Nam vet who has some rather... interesting stories...

They're all very nice. Bruce has some medical troubles so we have to keep an eye on him. Marta has a hard time speaking English but she's like the grandmother every kid dreams of having.

Latoya is very motherly and kind and Crystal is a little angel but she's always afraid. She's 4 and always wants to be held. Bobby, Rufus and Marcus are like biological brothers, always goofing around. I call them the three stooges.

And then there's Reg. He's in his early 20's. Very shy and quiet. He sees things. Hears things. He's a schizo who ran away from home and stopped taking his meds. But he's happy here and I don't think we have to worry about him wondering off. He's kind of like crystal in that he's afraid of everything.

Oh, you may be wondering how I'm writing this. Well Uncle Bob has a way of getting his hands on things. Electronic things. Like laptops. And the near by Starbucks has no rule against cross dressing homeless men accompanying slightly grungy looking 18 year old girls to use the free wifi. But in his defense, Reg is freaking adorable.

And yes, I know someone's been updating my Twitter. It's creepy as hell, especially since whoever is doing it is obviously watching me, but you know what? I don't care. I know he's watching me. I just don't care.

And on being a selfish bitch; Yes, I left the children behind. I don't think it's possible to get them out of there.

Something I didn't tell you all when I tried to escape is that when I was going through the maze of a building, I came to the red door. I stood there and pondered on whether or not to take them with me. I was about to do it when I realized many of them are form a time before I was even born and I wondered if they were really even alive. How do I know they aren't ghosts of children? Yes, Anita was taken alive, but how do I know she wouldn't have been killed had she stayed, in order to keep her young forever?

I know it sounds far fetched, but you have to see it from my point of view, from the point of view of a person who has seen things that are impossible. Anything is possible.

And besides, they were happy there together. What if I had taken them out of there and they weren't dead? What would have happened to them? Would they go to orphanages or abusive foster homes? Anita was lucky. Anita found a foster family that loved her. But I wasn't going to take the chance of having one of those sweet little children being placed in an abusive environment when they were taken to that place in order to get away from one.

So yeah, I'm a selfish bitch. You're right.