3/23/1984

Algebra is going to kill me. I've decided it does me no good. I won't need algebra to be an artist or go backpacking across India. Good thing too, since I just got a D on the test. John wasn't in class. He probably would have blown the test too. He never shows up. I wish I could just not show up. I wish I was away.
I'll go away and find Dad. Wouldn't it be awesome if he were in Chicago. Chi-go. Congo. Or the Congo. Traveling through Africa. Up through Egypt and Israel. Just me and Dad. He wouldn't drink until her forgot my name and I'd be out of this crap town.
Saturday detention is in the Library. If I tell Mom I have detention maybe she'll be more interested in what I'm doing in school. Maybe if she has to drive me on Saturday morning, she won't drink so much Friday night.
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More free association and to be honest, I'm a little concerned where this journal ended up. Obviously Allison has problems, we all knew that from the beginning, but the more I delved, the more I began to see how important detention is for her. How it might be the last chance she has to make some sort of connection to anyone.