Crazy Don
The story I am about to relate to you is true. Everything I write about my life in this diary is true, but there seem to be some people who believe this diary is composed of fiction, so I want to preface this entry with my assurance that what you are about to read is the truth.There is a guy I know through some friends, who has some mental health issues, but was mostly considered to be harmless by everyone who knew him. My friend Haylee has three children, and is married to a lawyer named Douglas. Douglas works on the weekends as a bartender to help make ends meet for the family, and as such, is exposed to a wide variety of the populace.
One such member of the populace whom Douglas came to know was Crazy Don.
Crazy Don was given to ranting and raving about the government and generally being an odd fucker, but he was mostly considered harmless. I met him once at Doug and Haylee's. He was a strange man, but not scary.
Well, he became scary.
After hearing about what he did I have been feeling very out of sorts all day. I sometimes wonder if I am clearly in touch with reality, but the thought of things getting as bad as they got for Crazy Don scares me shitless.
A few days ago Crazy Don went to a friend's house and borrowed a circular saw, put a tourniquet on his right arm, and sawed through his arm between his wrist and his elbow.
He then picked his arm up, and said to his friend "Okay now you're going to have to calm down and drive me to the hospital. The keys are in my pocket.".
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
He refused to allow doctors to try to reattach his hand.
This story scares me down to my bones.
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