O, tempora! O, mores!

I wish I could be more help in dealing with what's happening right now, but I'm just a college student, and ARC has made it clear that they want me out of their hair. As far as they're concerned, I'm just a casualty waiting to happen, and in the event they need to ask about something for one reason or another, they can always just email or text me. I check pretty often; it's a good habit, and it's not like I've got much else to do.

So, instead, I took a visit to my childhood home, back in Michigan. My parents still live there, even though it's honestly a little too big for two people who don't have guests over a lot. It was my dad's childhood home, too, though, so I guess it makes sense. Nostalgia is a powerful thing.

And that takes me to my next point. See, while I was there, near the end of my trip, Dad gave me something I kind of wish he hadn't. It was my great-grandpa's journal. He apologized for telling me the watch was the only thing he'd left behind, but that it was time for me to know the truth. See, I'd told Mom and Dad I sold the watch because I wanted to get it over with instead of telling them whenever they came over next, and they didn't want me to feel bad about getting rid of the watch. So despite my growing suspicion about what Dad was saying, I opened up the journal and read it.

When I said I never knew my great-grandpa, I was more right than I ever realized. He wasn't a good man. He was very deeply hateful, actually. I'm sure you can imagine who he hated, given when he lived. I guess I don't know what I expected.

I thanked Dad for telling me the truth and gave him back the journal. I'm back in Washington now.

I still feel sick from seeing what he wrote in that journal. I didn't know you could be betrayed by someone who died before you were born until now, but I guess you learn something new every day.