Entry Eight
Ghosts (Second Episode)
Blue Book,
I've come to conclude that the images in my head that
continued to haunt me were ghosts, or "a" ghost: She's a ghost. She
is an angel--a demon and a monster and a mother. She is a sentinel and the
tenth of everything and no thing.
Dammit. Where does this shit come from?
Seclusion doesn't make me this crazy. As a matter of fact, I kinda like
seclusion (though I shouldn't say that to the docs, since I know they'll try to
find a more suitable punishment if they knew). It's just a small white room
where you sit in white darkness. It's the only quiet place in this whole
building--other than the garden, that is. No.... No. I'm wrong. I'm definitely
wrong. I'm not like them. I'm not a maniac. I've never done anything wrong.
Nothing that I remember, at least. Is that the origin of the problem?
Thankfully, because of all this I was allowed to skip
the open "session" today. Wendel came instead and he counseled me in
private because I'm not good at opening up in front of a large group of people.
It's only been a week (at least I think it has been a week. Again, the concept
of time seems to be dwindling) and I think he's grown on me. Perhaps it's
because he's the only one who seems to believe me. I mean, sure, Sarah shows
some amount of faith in me, but she doesn't believe. Of course, the
"believing in" thing could just be an understanding gimmick to get me
to trust the doc, but as of the moment I don't care. This is one of those times
where I'd just like to grasp a hold of something, even if it's anything. She
pities me, though, and I hate being pitied.
Is it so wrong to actually want to believe in the
lies that are fed to you? Lies are tasty. Like chicken. Except...I don't like
chicken.
What the hell.
Well, I'm out now, and running rampant yet again.
Still don't know who--or what--attacked my mind the other day, so I decided to
stay by myself.
The doc told me I'll be getting a roommate soon. He's
twenty; four years younger than me. I'm sitting here trying to figure out if I
really care, despite the fact that I sort of, er, yelled at the doc over it.
Think I was being a little immature âbout it, though I do honestly enjoy my
only personal space. I was actually just fucking with the doc at the time, but
now I kinda feel bad.
Five hundred rooms, most of them already occupied,
and they decide to get me of all people a roommate. No doubt it was Marcus's
brilliant mind games at play.
Fucker.
Mind games.... Where have I heard that before?
Ah well. I'm told his name's Maxwell. They also say
that he's pretty mild compared to what his condition could be (think they say
he has bipolarity...or was that someone else?). He gets transferred from his
current facility to this one. It isn't anything to jump for joy over. Whatever.
O no.... I hear her again. Only this time it's not so
bad, except.... Shit. I can't control what I'm writing right now. It's insane.
I'm insane. I think. What the hell did they inject into me? It's driving me
crazy motherfucking crazy! Even when I was in seclusion it wasn't this bad. Now
I'm alone and the doc is gone and
She's coming from the walls now. They're tearing
apart and it looks like they're made of skin. Breathing. Hairs on the back of
my neck. Hairs on me. Eyes watching. The paint around me begins to drip
like melting flesh in a pyre. I can smell it. It's human but not quite. A
person is burning alive, writhing like an animal o god where have I seen that
before it's a deer an elk a venison maybe it's stabbed and there's blood she
has the face of a doe she's screaming blood everywhere o god no stop make it go
away STOP STOP STOP
black viper, black viper,
whatd we see? i think
youre a killer
drowning me....
You're dead already justDROWNalreadyDROWNso cold so darkDROWN!
Water water everywhere but not a
drop to drink
I think I'm dead o god
no please I didn't I DIDN'T Liar