I was only 17 years old.

I loved Q so much, I had all the merchandise and movies.

I pray to Q every night, thanking him for the life I’ve been given. “Q is love” I say, “Q is life."

My dad hears me and calls me a Qtard. I knew he was just jealous of my devotion to Q.

I called him a doomer.

He deboonks me and sends me to sleep.

I'm crying now and my face hurts.

I lay in bed, really cold. I feel something warm...

It's Q! I was so happy.

He whispers in my ear "Where we go one, we go all."

I start to count, it's the number 17 again.

I open my computer for Q.

He posts on 8kun.

It sounds so strange, but I do it for Q. I can feel shills spamming and jannies deleting.

I want to believe Q.

He throws Qlues and breadcrumbs as he fills Washington, DC with justice.

My dad walks in.

Q looks him straight in the eye and says,

"Trust the plan."

Q leaves through my window.

Q is love. Q is life.