Not such a good day here for Miss Bridget. I'm on an elevator that goes up and down and every time I try to get off someone tells me it's not my floor, or the doors simply close in my face. I could spend all my time sharing Jacob-stories but that doesn't get me anywhere, at least not anywhere else except here, clinging tenaciously to a beautiful and terrible past because I can't let it go because if I let go of all the bad things, then the good things might go with it and it's a risk I will not take.
