The thing I remember most is that I didn't cry. It's funny how the mind works like that. I don't remember the words my sisters said to me, or what they were wearing, or even if they were crying- all I remember is that I didn't cry.

And that I'd just been told the most devastating news a 13-year-old boy could hear: that his parents were both dead.

The Twelve Days of Christmas By Tiffany B. Quinn I wonder again if my parents aren’t truly communicating with me from the grave. I go to bed with more questions than answers.

Tuesday Dec 27, Day 2

Leaving magic class, I was grateful that none of my classmates followed me to subterfuge. Having to face anyone who'd seen me naked so soon after it happened, would have been unbearable. There was one teeny tiny problem however, I had to walk the hallways by myself, and who knew what Micheal or his friend Victor would do.