Call me niave or stupid, but I do trust you. If I didn’t then I wouldn’t bother writing to you. And, if I didn’t trust you, then I wouldn’t try so hard to get you to trust me. I don’t know how to make you trust me. I make up lies for fun. If I were you, I wouldn’t trust me. If I tell you more about me, will that help?
I’m twelve years old and I like reading and writing. I like making music, too. I’m in a band called Drumestra. We play steel pan and different types of drums from Brazil. It’s really fun. I can’t remember the name. Something beginning with S. I want to know about crime because it’s cool, isn’t?
Looking after friends is important. I don’t have many, just one really good one. We stick together because, without each other, we’d be alone.
I don’t know why you hate yourself. Killing people is really bad but you could have done something worse. It was a quick death, wasn’t it? It wasn’t as if you tourtured them for hours and anyway, ignoring the problem is worse than trying to solve it, even if you get it wrong.
You said you can’t risk going to prison. I’m not tryinv to make you feel bad or anything but surely the Feu was as big a risk as you can get. Why did you do it? Why not just speak to them?