Sue’s chapter Chapter 5 part 1 People always used To think about me As some kind of princess. But being here feels better because I’m not expected to do more or less. I can just do things. Betty seemed to notice me writing in my journal because she dropped me into the field. My journal. Where is it? I find it in about a minute in a pile of mud. I sigh a sigh of relief because only the cover and the first page sank. The first page! But I just got the journal! I read the poem that was now covered in mud. Walking on water By Scarlet(her alias) Trying to be me is like walking on water. Your feet are so heavy that you sink into the ground. Trying to be me is like music to the deaf. You try to listen, but can’t ever hear a sound. Trying to be me is like The mud obscured the other two lines of the poem. I knew those were the best ones, too. Just then, Noel Waved at me. His face was... (gulp)blushing! I had to get out of ice this quick. Thank god that at that moment Buttercream and Hammie showed up. “Where are the others?” Shouted Hammie as if he were a market vendor selling questions about people’s whereabouts. I chuckled a bit. “I don’t know!” I replied, remembering that I couldn’t tell them or Betty would kill me. “Even though this field is so flat, why can’t we see anything? It’s like there were invisible fog!” My eyes widened and I fell down. I woke up in a red house. A woman rushed up to me and hugged me. “You’re back, Abby! I’m so sorry I didn’t accept you. I read your diary when you were in the coma. Medically Induced, as you know. You deserve to live your own life. You deserve to be an out and proud asexual. I’m so-“ Abby held out her hand as if she wanted. “Everything in this place I remember. Our house. Our red house we named Lucy. Because when we celebrated moving in we used red ribbons as decoration. You came up with the name. My diary was real. I talked about how I was never going to be accepted if I came out of the closet. I was given a medically induced coma because I was in a mass shooting and got a bullet in my head. You got everything right except one thing. Even if i woke up from a coma my mother would never accept me.” She woke up and felt as heavenly as ever. She had an idea for the poem now. Walking on water By Scarlet Trying to be me is like walking on water. Your feet are so heavy that you sink into the ground. Trying to be me is like music to the deaf. You try to listen, but can’t ever hear a sound. Trying to be me is like Having mud obscure the two best lines of your poem. Because although it won’t be the same, you can improvise and write your poem outside the reach of the mud.