My father
i have nothing better to do than sit here and wonder how he is, who he is. the kids around me are making so much noise, but brandon is silenced, other than his chip bag.i'm supposed ti be reading about christopher columbus, the arrogant spanishman, but instead i hold his address close and tight. would he even want to know me? would he care that i was once his little girl? or that i don't care at all about hte money? i cried last night because i found out where he was. "Wayne Vernon King". a name that i thought that i would always charish. god, i'm so scared. it's frightening to think of who he really is. i've been tolf that i look just like him, but i do't even think that he'd recognize me.