The book: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
I am a caged bird. My dad is so strict. I love him more than anything in the world–we only have each other. But sometimes he can be a bit much. Too overprotective, too… too much… too something.
But something happened last October. I found something. Someone.
And since then, I have been living an actual, real life.
I am happy .
P.S. I found this note today, a year and a half later. I am throwing the whole book into the trash. Both Jane and the Eden who wrote these things (me) are morons.