Two Choices.

 I had two choices to make with regard to tomorrow, and one of them wasn't staying here in this room. It was only ever meant to be a stopgap and I've been in here nearly a month. I can't believe how quickly that time has passed. I like this little room and I will miss it. At one point recently, when things were tougher than normal, I even considered handing myself in on a promising to behave myself if I could live in this little room. However I came to the conclusion that after nearly a month without me and considering how I spoke to my grandfather the last time I saw him, they probably got used to not having me around anyway. 

So, as one of the only two choices that I have for tomorrow is to hand myself in and go through a whole lot of pain and trouble for what I've been up to this past month, only to find out that I'm not welcome anymore anyway, or even if I am, I will find myself back where I started, so going through all of this carry on for nothing. I figured I was better trying to move forwards rather than backwards. 

I'm not sure why today feels like my last day before the execution though. I guess I'm not the adventurous type or something.