13th January

He’s in here with me and her tonight. He’s just sitting over there in the edge of the light, staring, so I’m not saying anything. I’m not going to try to talk to her while He is here. I hope she knows I’m not abandoning her,, I just don’t think it’s wise to talk with Him around. Or safe. As usual, I don’t know what He wants cause He’s not talking, just watching, smiling His weird smile. She’s not saying anything either. I hope she stays quiet now. I know that’s weird, I’ve been trying to get her to talk for days, and now I want her to stay quiet. But it’s safer if she doesn’t say anything. He’s creeping me out again and I’m kind of used to Him (as much as anyone could be, I suppose), so I hate to think what she must be feeling. Scared, shocked, and probably even freaked out. But she’ll be okay. I just have to keep talking to her, at least when He’s not here. Speaking of which, He’s leaving. He just said something stupid, He said ‘Goodnight, my love’. Now, how’s that for pathetic. He didn’t say anything to her, just left. He’s back. He just wanted to tell me to ‘Take care of our baby’. Goodnight and good riddance. I’ll just tell her goodnight and then I’m going to get some sleep. I’m buggered.

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12th January

The thing is starting to hurt me. It makes my body ache. I seem to be stretching in all different directions at once, and my body doesn’t like it any more than I do. I told her all about it, about how and when and all. But she didn’t say anything as usual. . I tried to explain it so she wouldn’t think I was bad, but I couldn’t tell her everything, she’s just a kid. At least I think so. Anyway, I told her I didn’t want it, but that I didn’t have much choice, any choice really. And I told her about stuff. Just stuff I sometimes think about. Like my family and friends and school and stuff. I told her about how I woke up here, and I asked her how she got here. She didn’t answer. I told her about Jamie and how we all call him Jamie Bug. I asked her about her family and friends. About life. And I asked her about colours. I think she thinks I’m kind of strange. I tried to explain that too, but it just didn’t come out right. I mean how do you tell people that you can’t remember colours. Not red or green or yellow or blue. That you can’t even see colours any more. Even your own blood is grey. It just sounds wrong. It doesn’t make sense. But I hope she understood. Or maybe it would be better if she didn’t. Less scary.

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11th January

He came down again, but I didn’t ask Him about her. I didn’t say anything. He kind of did that smile thing of His like He knows some secret. It’s like He’s laughing at me. He didn’t say anything so neither did I. When He left I tried to talk to her again and I think I heard her say something to me or maybe she was crying or something. I tried to tell her it was all right, that I understood, but I don’t think she was listening. I’ll keep trying though. Maybe one day she’ll come to trust me, tell me who she is, where she’s from. I just hope she’s not a kid, cause that’d mean she’ll suffer the same as me, and I don’t think I could handle that. I know that sounds selfish but that’s how I feel. I think the guilt would do me in as nothing else has. But at least I have someone to talk to, to share my hell with. Even if she never talks back, at least I know I’m not alone anymore.
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10th January

I keep trying to talk to her, but she won’t talk back. I ask her what her name is but she won’t tell me. I don’t know how to get through to her. I know how scared she must be, how could I not know. I just want her to know I’m a friend, not like Him, but a real friend. I can help her be strong and not so alone. That’s the hardest part. Being alone. She just stays over there not saying anything, not doing anything (that I can hear), just breathing. I wish she would talk to me. I just want to help and maybe be her friend. We can be strong together. The only thing that worries me, is that maybe she’ll think I’m a bad person because of the thing. Maybe she won’t like me, maybe even blame me. I hope she doesn’t, cause it’s not my fault. I hope she understands. I try not to think about it cause it hurts so much, but it’s Jamie’s birthday today. Happy Birthday Jamie. I love you.

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9th January

I’m not alone down here. I don’t know who or even what it is that’s in here with me. But I’m not alone. . I can’t see anything, but I can here it. What ever it is. I don’t know if it’s a person or an animal, but it’s alive. It’s breathing and I’m scared. I tried talking to it, asking who it was (hoping it’s a person, sort of), what it was. No answer. Just breathing. I don’t know how it got here, or when or where it came from, I just woke up and it was there. I didn’t notice at first, I just sort of heard it but not really. I didn’t pay any attention to it. I don’t think I thought I heard it. If that makes any sense. Guess you’d have to be here. Then He came and when He left it was there. It’s like when ever He leaves, for a little while, my senses go on overdrive, to make sure He’s really gone or something. I tried to shine the torch on it, but it wasn’t bright enough. Maybe it’s another one like me. Maybe He took some one else and she’s scared, like me. If I keep talking to her maybe she won’t be so scared and will talk back to me. Maybe I can help her. Maybe she can help me.

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8th January

He’s back. I almost thought He was gone for good. Don’t know why, He was only here yesterday(?). Just wishful thinking I guess. He wants to talk about the thing. I had almost forgotten about that too, but He just had to remind me. He wants to know if everything is all right. What does He think! He keeps asking me if I’ve chosen a name for it yet. Yeah, Goodbye. How’s that for a name?!

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7th January

July, August was a time of change. That’s when He started shaving me. And when I got infected by His seed. And when He decided to give me pencil and paper to write a diary with. He didn’t say why He wanted me to write a diary, just gave me the gear and told me to write. So I did. Well not straight away, cause I didn’t know what to write. I was afraid to write anything at first because I thought He would read it and Punish me if I wrote what was in my head. But then I figured ‘What the hell’, it’s not like things can get much worse. So as you can see, I write what I feel like and so far He hasn’t read it. At least I don’t think so. I’m not even sure if He can read or not. Probably not

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6th January

I must have been here 4 or 5 months, when HE shaved my pubes off. Yeah, my pubic hair. He said it was dirty messy, and it had to go. That was about the time I noticed my periods were almost nothing. I hated having them before, but at least they meant I was normal. Now normal is Nothing. It was really suck having Him shave me, cause He kept having to touch me and I hate that. And He kept nicking me with the blade. He used a straight razor like on cowboy movies instead of a regular razor. At least it was clean an sharp, not rusty and painfully dull (like Him). I tried not to move but I couldn’t help it, it hurt, and it was really humiliating having His hands there, but I didn’t have much choice. None actually. It was worse when it started growing back because it was really itchy. I actually read a mothers article about how women do this voluntarily when they have babies. Are they nuts?! He comes in to shave me on a sort of semi-regular basis, and it doesn’t get any better. Nothing does.

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5th January

The torch is definitely dying. I can hardly see to write, but I’ll do my best. What was I going to write about? Oh yes, The Darling Game. . It started quite by accident. You see He came in one night and I, not thinking, said ‘Not tonight, Darling, I have a headache’. And He said ‘Okay’, and left. I couldn’t believe it. He heard me and He left. So I tried it the next night and ‘Wha la’ it worked again. But He said I’d better not have a headache the next night. I decided not to push my luck. So anyway, I decided to try it with other things, like getting a bowl of water to wash with or some real soap. I even asked ‘Darling, if you wouldn’t mind terribly heating up my tea’, as it had gotten cold while He was using me (it tastes like crap hot but it’s worse cold, and I don’t think it really is tea, either). He actually did it. I know it’s not much of a Game, but it’s something, and it can sometimes make things a little bit easier.

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4th January

I don’t know why I’m bothering to write this diary anymore. No one is ever going to find it. Or me. And even if they did, they wouldn’t care any way. I don’t, so why should any one else. But I suppose it’s so I can get it all out and have some peace. Maybe. Any way, after I started getting a clue about His Games, I decided to give Him a taste of His own medicine. I thanked Him kindly for the delicious chicken and baked potatoes. Told Him the gravy was perfect, and the vegetables were divine. I apologised that I couldn’t eat the pudding, but I had just stuffed myself too much on the main meal. Then I suggested that as it was chicken, white wine would have been more appropriate than red, but that I didn’t really mind. I think I remembered the etiquette thing right. He just stood there making funny noises and pulling funny faces like I was crazy or something. Then He said ‘You’re ahh welcome, okay?’. I thanked Him again, sooo politely, and smiled like I was dismissing Him. He didn’t come back that night. So I tried it again the next night, and again every night for about a week. Then BAM. He came storming in and smacked me around the head so hard my ears started ringing, that really happens, you know, the ringing. and He screamed at me ‘Stop it, stop it, stop or I’ll Punish you, BAD’. That scared me straight. I stopped. I never did figure out what made Him lose it like that, all of a sudden. But I did figure out other games to play with His head. Like the Darling Game. The Darling Game still works sometimes, but I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, cause I’m too tired today, and I think the torch is almost dead, like me.

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3rd January

I give up. I can’t fight anymore. I’m not strong enough. I give up. He can do what ever He wants to me, it won’t make a difference. I should have quit fighting ages ago. Maybe then I wouldn’t hurt so much now. I haven’t seen my family for so long and I’m never going to see them again. I’m never going to see Mum or Dad or Jamie Bug or Grandma James or even Grandma Stevens ever again. . All though I’ll probably see Grandma S in hell. My friends will probably have forgotten me by now. I can’t even remember what they look like anymore. They’re gone, in my head, gone like they were never there. Never real. I sometimes think they were all just a dream and this is all I’ve ever known. None of the good stuff was really real, I just dreamed it up. I can’t dream anymore. He won’t let me. He gets inside my head and chases it all away, even the sunset. The sunset is gone. There’s just grey now. I see grey every where, my head, my skin, my sack dress, the floor, the chains. Him. It’s all grey. That’s all that’s left. All the other colours are dead, like me. Dead, dead, dead. All dead.

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2nd January

I tried to cut the thing out. But I broke another plastic spoon. Still no real cutlery for naughty girls like me. He made me do exercise today too. If I didn’t do them right He smacked me in the back of the head. I have a hell of a headache now. What does He expect, I can hardly move properly from all the injuries He’s given me. Even the breathing exercises are too hard. I can’t take deep breaths or do the huff’n’puff ones cause I can’t take proper breaths. He’s seen to that. But I don’t want a worse headache so I’ll just have to do the best I can, not that that’s much.

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Chapter 6 - January 1999 - 1st January

Happy New Year. He says I need to exercise. I thought He meant He’d let me go outside. Dumb huh? When I asked Him He shut me in the toy box for the day. Great exercise. I don’t fit so well anymore, I’m too fat. Does He care? No! all He meant was I needed to do some exercises like stretching and breathing and some other dumb stuff. ‘For our baby’, He said. I’m supposed to stretch and He puts me in the toy box. What a genius. He hasn’t put me in there since He found out I was infected and He waits to do it till I’m almost too big too fit. Last time it was because I told Him to go fuck His Demon mutt, ‘Like that would be the first time, not’. He knocked me out and put me in. I knew as soon as I woke up where I was. I could almost say I was comfortable in there, but I won’t. I got kind of used to the toy box, in a way it was better than The Box, because I could feel the walls and floor and roof. I can feel where they are and know that there is a way out. But I still don’t know how big The Box is. I’m chained to the floor and I can’t see the walls or roof let alone feel them. The torch isn’t bright enough to touch them. And I don’t know how He gets in. I can sometimes hear Him but I can never see Him until He is in the torch light. That’s only when He decides to let me have the torch when He’s in here. Which isn’t often. I think He’s shy (aren’t I funny).

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31st December

Today is New Years Eve. Out with the old, in with the new. I wish. No parties for me tonight, not that I could do much if I was going to one, not in the state that I’m in. I am a mess. Broken, dirty, scarred and I don’t even have my own teeth any more either. He’s knocked half of them out, at least. I can feel the gaps. I guess it’s a good thing He only gives me gruel to eat since I probably don’t have enough teeth to chew real food with now. My face has started twitching too. The nerves, I guess. It’s really annoying cause my eyelid keeps flicking over my right eye. It’s not like it interrupts my viewing pleasure or any thing, but I can feel it and it’s driving me nuts. I can’t even get to sleep because of it. And He told me to stop it or He’d have to Punish me. I told Him it was His fault it was doing it and He smacked me anyway. Didn’t fix it, unfortunately. I have to keep my hand over my eye to hold it still and that’s annoying too, but it’s better than the twitching.

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30th December

I couldn’t write yesterday, I just couldn’t. My thoughts are shutting themselves off. It’s like I see nothing and hear nothing everyday so my mind has nothing new to focus on, to exercise it and I get kind of depressed, kind of lost. Go figure. I try to make up poems and songs and stuff in my head but it’s like there’s nothing there anymore. My brain has used it all up. I guess you were wrong Mum, my imagination isn’t so big after all.

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28th December

He decided He needs to start hitting me everyday again since it’s obvious I’m not getting into the spirit of things as befitting a new mother to be. He thinks I miss the daily smacks, and that’s why I’m not in the proper frame of mind. Like a few smacks are going to make me happy about anything. He should settle for being pleased that I’ve finally accepted the death that is my life, that I’m never going to get out of here. That I’m never going to see my family or friends again. That I’m never going to see colour again or taste real food. Or be clean. Why can’t He accept that and just let me die. I have nothing to live for, my life ended the day He came into it. And I’ve just been existing since then, no where, nothing, no one, just this death.

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