Kristy inspired me to plan my own escape route through my alma mater. If a cult of mask-wearing, hood-popping psychopaths ever tries to hunt me down while I’m campus for some inexplicable reason, I know where to hide. In the library, second floor, in the children’s section that’s always empty save for that one creepy guy in the corner.
Don’t tell the mask-wearing, hood-popping psychopaths I told you that.
Here’s a poem.
To me, you’re all sheep,
Born covered in soft, warm wool.
I’ll just grab my shears.