I could have sent her back...

Dear Diary,

This whole time, Daddy's been lying to me. About everything.

I suppose the TV show starring myself should have been a tip-off, but I'm apparently so stupid that I just completely ignored it.

Yesterday Daddy went out with Jenny again. History repeats. I just sat there thinking about whether I'd been too harsh on him. Foolishly, I started to think that he was just trying to help me. I thought that the only reason he ever closed the window in the first place was to protect me, and that he opened it back up again because he saw that seclusion was fucking me up.

He told me that I was stuck here forever. He told me that I could never make friends. He told me that he was my only hope, and that anyone else would send me to Nevada.

He lied to me. Everyday, everything he ever said, it was all a lie. He made it a habit to look me straight in the eye and lie straight to my fucking face.

And I just sat there, and I felt sorry for him, and he made me hate myself for doubting him, and I decided to give him another chance.

So I trotted over to the window, and I looked out of it, and what I saw was a shot at a brand new life. I saw a future where Daddy and I got along perfectly, where I would be allowed to fly where ever and whenever I want. I'd still only be an observer, but I'd be able to see anything in the world that I wanted to see. I could fly to Paris at the speed of sound, spend the day there, spend the next week in Rome, Moscow, Beijing, and Tokyo, and I'd always have a home to come back to when it was over. That's what I saw when I looked out that window. And who knows? Maybe his intentions were earnest when he gave me this bit of freedom. It still wouldn't change a damn thing.

A wise man once said to always look before you leap. So I looked, and I leapt. About now, I feel I should confess that I told a little fib of my own earlier. I had said that if my unhealthy lifestyle kept up, that I would become as fat as a cow. In truth, that had already taken place. I weighed as much as two ponies, and my wings were barely strong enough to lift one.

I aimed up, towards the skyscrapers, but gravity had other plans. I didn't exactly plummet, thankfully, it was more of a slow, barely controllable descent, but rapid enough that I had already passed an entire floor before I realized my mistake.

I wasn't flying, and I sure wasn't getting back in the same way I got out, but I wasn't screwed just yet. The next window I passed just so happened to be open, in fact, it was the same window I had escaped through the very first time I went flying. Without thinking, I thrust myself through it, and started thinking of how I was going to go back upstairs.

Or, I would have, anyway, had there not been a man in the apartment with me, holding a bowl of cereal in his hand, and staring right at me.

Three guesses what happened to that cereal.

But, though I was taught all my life that this man, and any others like him, would have freaked out and either called the police or taken advantage of me, no such thing happened. As the milk seeped into the carpet, this man passed up multiple opportunities to rape and murder me, and instead handed me a paper towel and asked me to help him clean up.

After we finished up, he poured himself (and me) another bowl, and asked me questions that must have been on his mind for ages. I felt ashamed when I barely had answers for a quarter of the things he asked me, and how half of those had to due with my weight, but the silver lining was that I got to grill him about a few things next.

I asked him his name (Marty), some general things about this world, and life, and friendship, and he seemed to have answers for everything. Sometimes, they were a little abstract, or cliche'd, but it's much more than I ever got out of Daddy.

It was at about that time when that I finished my cereal, and trotted over to the TV to see what kind of reception he had. Turns out the one thing I had forgotten to ask him was whether or not he had any at all. You see, Marty is a man with more sense than money. Instead of investing in a costly cable or satellite package, he prefers to keep a tidy blu-ray collection and go online to get his TV shows.

So, he let me take a look through his blu-rays to find something to watch while he went and brushed his teeth. Marty appeared to be quite the fan of action movies, which is why one particular movie in his pile did not fit there at all.