Past Entries - December 27
I do not write as much anymore - and I do not know if it is, in fact, a good thing. Or, perhaps, this has to do with the fact that she's got my notebook the other day to look over those odd mindscapes I managed to sketch down (I still have no idea how, where, or when that happened - nor can I rival their quality, despite them being birthed by my very hand).
I wonder if she'll see all the pictures. I wonder how far back she would look.
I wonder if she will think of me as I am -
Insane.
I don't know if I've improved, or if I am okay, or if it is, in, fact, better, or if it's quiet in this little head of mine. I don't want to check.
I need to keep her around to keep me stable. I need to keep her around to keep me sane, to keep me calm and collected.
I don't love her, I just need her to keep me in check.
I had an odd dream last night.
The field was vast and barren - the dry grass crunched beneath my feet like broken bones of a hundred small creatures. They were all gathered in the beneath a twisted and dying tree. They did not hear me approach, did not hear me crouch and lay down on the yellowed and burnt grass, did not hear me listen in to their confessions.
"She said she'll come back. Is she needed?"
"Nah, mate, she ain' comin' back. She ain't comin' anywhere near us, I tell you. Th'girl is cle'erer than that."
"Sheee promhisssed."
I broke the grass strands between my fingers, grabbed a palmful, and ripped it out. Like tearing fabric. Like tearing fabric, it was quick and painless, and...
"No, I know that she will probably not be back, what I am asking is just... that, if she's needed. Do we need her? This can get bad."
"Hhhe doesss. Hhhe thinks hhghe-"
"He ain't goin' anywhere, I tell you as much."
The grass dissolved from my fingers and seeped through them like sand.
"He ain't goin' anywhere - but how long d'ye think he got?"
"A month."
"A wheeeeghk."
"Oh, c'on, give th'guy some credit. He ain't gonna-"
"Wait. Listen."
"Ghhhhwaaat?"
"Close this down, wrap this up - can't go about it this way anymore. Move, move, move!"
"Wassamatter? Mate, you ain't makin' no-"
The grass was gone. The tree was releasing its roots and floating up and into the air, floating like a balloon filled with helium, disappearing in the steel-stained sky. I found myself getting up with haste, blinking, rubbing my eyelids raw. It was gone, everything - the field, the grass, the sky - at once. I was in a stone-clad room I knew all too well, but that room was empty now.
The chair was still there.
The knife.
The blood.
I woke up, unable to even scream.
I don't love her, I just need her to keep me in check.
I wonder if she'll see all the pictures. I wonder how far back she would look.
I wonder if she will think of me as I am -
Insane.
I don't know if I've improved, or if I am okay, or if it is, in, fact, better, or if it's quiet in this little head of mine. I don't want to check.
I need to keep her around to keep me stable. I need to keep her around to keep me sane, to keep me calm and collected.
I don't love her, I just need her to keep me in check.
I had an odd dream last night.
The field was vast and barren - the dry grass crunched beneath my feet like broken bones of a hundred small creatures. They were all gathered in the beneath a twisted and dying tree. They did not hear me approach, did not hear me crouch and lay down on the yellowed and burnt grass, did not hear me listen in to their confessions.
"She said she'll come back. Is she needed?"
"Nah, mate, she ain' comin' back. She ain't comin' anywhere near us, I tell you. Th'girl is cle'erer than that."
"Sheee promhisssed."
I broke the grass strands between my fingers, grabbed a palmful, and ripped it out. Like tearing fabric. Like tearing fabric, it was quick and painless, and...
"No, I know that she will probably not be back, what I am asking is just... that, if she's needed. Do we need her? This can get bad."
"Hhhe doesss. Hhhe thinks hhghe-"
"He ain't goin' anywhere, I tell you as much."
The grass dissolved from my fingers and seeped through them like sand.
"He ain't goin' anywhere - but how long d'ye think he got?"
"A month."
"A wheeeeghk."
"Oh, c'on, give th'guy some credit. He ain't gonna-"
"Wait. Listen."
"Ghhhhwaaat?"
"Close this down, wrap this up - can't go about it this way anymore. Move, move, move!"
"Wassamatter? Mate, you ain't makin' no-"
The grass was gone. The tree was releasing its roots and floating up and into the air, floating like a balloon filled with helium, disappearing in the steel-stained sky. I found myself getting up with haste, blinking, rubbing my eyelids raw. It was gone, everything - the field, the grass, the sky - at once. I was in a stone-clad room I knew all too well, but that room was empty now.
The chair was still there.
The knife.
The blood.
I woke up, unable to even scream.
I don't love her, I just need her to keep me in check.