The tension was so thick you’d need a chain saw to cut it.

Sam sat in the far back right corner of the packed courtroom next to the senior reporter for the ‘left wing’ news agency. The reporter for the ‘right wing’ sat opposite to them, on the left corner.

He was just an intern but his ocular camera was turned on. A simple set of contact lenses that were linked to a chip implanted in the occipital lobe of the brain. He had a perfect view of the defendant, his stress was evident, staining the man’s features. It was authentic, and rightfully so.

The hushed conversations ceased upon the entrance of the jury. So silent it became that the movement of their clothing sounded as if there were microphones attached. Their steps were not synchronized but felt orchestrated.

He wanted a smoke.

A speaker for the jury rose and the judge asked if they had reached a verdict.

“We have, your honor,” he said, “We the jury find the defendant, Chris Stevens, guilty of first degree murder.”

Sam was stunned to silence as the court room erupted into cries and gasps of disbelief. The victims family clenching their fist, tears pouring down their cheeks while some raised their hands as if in a church service.

The defendant‘s family sat shocked in disbelief. Sam had slowly gazed at them all in an even pan, his instructions as a reporter at the hearing. His attention ended upon the defendant, who held his face within his palms, head lowered, his life over.

They had been calling it the biggest landmark case in human history and they might have been right. Stevens wife had died in a brutal car accident on her way to work. Her name was Shannon, 35 years of age and a mother to three children.

It was an autonomous car she was in, hit nearly head on by another autonomous vehicle. They said it was some sort of outlandish malfunction, something they could not have imagined. This judgment clears both companies of any fault or financial retribution.

It had been a phone call that was Stevens undoing. He admitted to his mother that he wanted her to die. That he imagined it would be a car accident, that she would not suffer but he would be free from a woman he no longer loved. He did not say any of this without remorse. The conversation had been interrupted with choked sobs of grief.

Society had advanced enough to the point that the human design chart of each individual was recorded at birth. Whether they were a Projector or Generator, they were taught differently at school. But Stevens had missed that boat, his generation being raised in the older form of an educational system. This did not, however, excuse him of his part in the human evolution.

This was the first case where a Manifester was held responsible for the input they issued into the universal code.

I had just left the bar at closing time, it was cold and the night was threatening rain. A rush of wind caught me off guard and I stumbled as I made my way in the direction of the parking garage a few blocks away. My eyes were cast downward, inebriated and hardly focused. I came to a crosswalk and decided to wait out the signal, my arms were wrapped tightly across my chest to bar the cold. Glancing to my right I saw an old homeless man sitting on the concrete. He was leaning back against the side of a brick building and his bare feet were planted before him, knees elevated and arms resting casually upon them.

He was staring at me, and I felt compelled to join him. So I did.

I walked over and sat next to him, then smiled. He returned my smile but said nothing.

“You hungry? Need money for anything?” I asked.

He gave no reply, with the exception of continuing to gaze at me, that smile on his lined face. It was unnerving. A lack of comprehension was not what silenced him, that I knew on instinct. Strangely, I felt I knew him.

“Your smile is genuine. I mean no disrespect but aren’t you miserable out here in the cold?” I asked him as I felt the chill infesting my own bones.

He again answered me with silence, long enough for me to feel awkward, but eventually he did speak.

“Without darkness, one cannot truly appreciate the light,” he said, “It is the same with life. I appreciate it because I remember death.”

My smile faded as his remained. His stare was lucid, I saw no madness within it. After a moment I nodded and asked, “So you remember death? What was it like?”

His pause was not as long this time, but palpable. “You would not understand,“ he said.

“How long were you dead?” I asked.

“That question makes no sense. Time speeds up when you enjoy yourself, it slows down when you don’t. It’s only relative but had no relevance in that state,” he replied patiently. His words were delivered unhurriedly and as relaxed as his aged frame. But I sensed authority about him.

”What did you see?” I asked.

”You don’t receive any information while you are there. You are just there. Then all of a sudden you begin to feel this tremendous amount of data being shoved within you and you hear screaming. Screaming and screaming and when you realize it’s you screaming you don’t even recognize your own voice.

All you see is energy and the collective consciousness begins to take hold. It tells you that that is a wall, that this person is your mother and that one is your father. And for the briefest of moments you know it’s not true, it’s all just energy but you quickly succumb. And you forget. I, however, remember.”

I felt an ache, a dull throb deep within the pit of my stomach. It felt like the rhythm of doom. Eventually, I was able to speak.

-”Is there no escape?”-

We both said those words at the same time and that ache became an intense stab of agony. My mind flashed to something…. something that I could not understand. Desperately and possessively I clung to reality. I felt my eyes growing moist and my fist were tightly clenched.

His smile turned paternal as he said, “Go back to sleep.”

I said, “But I’m awake.”

”Go back to sleep,” he repeated.

And I did.

I went back to my routine where I feared the future and regretted the past. Where I imagined better things and sometimes I imagined worse things and life flew by as if in a dream until one day I found myself on my death bed and I remembered that conversation.

I remembered them all, thousands and thousands of the same conversation throughout an innumerable past.

I remembered, then I forgot.

The Devil, "I will grant you immortality on one condition."

The Man, "What's that."

The Devil, "You must kill everyone you ever truly loved."

The Man, "Deal."

The pact was sealed with a handshake before the man ascended the barrel of a pistol to his own head. He pressed the trigger and a small explosion ensued. The pistol had fired, however the man was still alive.

The Devil appeared confused.

The Man, "I never even loved myself you fool."

Jan 3rd.

New years resolution, start a new journal… diary? Nah, journal sounds better. So.... lets do this.

Jan 10th.

Wellll, much like most my previous resolutions this one did not start out all that well. But seriously, this is something I sort of want to stick to even though I've never done anything like this before. At least today I have some events to start out with, as in, I got a new house. Boom. Excited man, two bed room with half an acre of land surrounding it. Has a nice porch too, just need to get some more furniture in here and decorations I guess. I'll get my girl to come over and handle that part, because I know jack shit about interior design. And No, she won't be moving in, nowhere near ready for all that shit. But I did put up a few things, of course I hung Betty and Charlie from the porch. Oh, let me explain. Lol, odd that I'm writing this as if someone else is reading it, like a fucking email or something but whatever, maybe one day I'll have a kid that'll have a read.

So Betty and Charlie have been with me most my life, they are, in fact, wind chimes. Not sure, I've always had a fascination with them. I named one Betty, naturally after Miss Page as this one is quite attractive and makes subtle, yet, beautiful sounds when aroused. The other, Charlie, I named after a childhood friend. Like him, this one can be a bit loud and obnoxious when hit with a strong breeze but nothing too dramatic. I never met Betty Page, nor am I still in touch with Charlie, but they live on in my life through these wind chimes. Recently I added a third to the party, found him at a yard sale. I don't usually go to those things, they always seem so fucking awkward... like, browsing around at a bunch of bullshit, casually hoping you find something worth a damn while the 'entrepreneur' maintains a continuous side glance of desperation. That's when they are done with the meaningless small talk about their kids, dog or whatever. I always think its funny too when they sell things from their bedroom, I can't help but think, 'So this thing witnessed you getting pounded away by your husband, boyfriend, side-piece for years'. Sort of a turn on if they are hot, but rarely a yard sale have I been to where that was the case. This one was no exception. Single Mother, grossly overweight and looked like she had not slept, nor showered, in a fucking year. I can promise you, whatever (if any) action her bedroom furniture might have seen, I want no part in it. She was completely rude also, like, how can you be ugly AND rude? I'm no ten myself, but at least I try to be nice to people. Oh well, she let 'Jeffery' go for next to nothing. Oh, that's the newest chime addition to the family’s name, Jeffery. Honestly not sure why I chose that, just seems to fit him. All three are hanging along the porch now, I have a nice view from my desk window.

Jan 13th.

Jan 14th.

Still trying to get this routine down, writing in this journal I mean. I know if I sit down and just write something, anything, before bed then it will get easier. In a pretty good mood now though, so it's not feeling like a chore. I entertained getting some sort of pet, I'm more of a dog person to be honest but thought about getting a cat, bird, even a snake. BUT, if my range of animal possibilities goes from mammal to reptile then it’s for sure an impulse decision and one I'd regret. So going to hold off on that. Things are going good though, my job is my job, my girl is my girl and the car is running. Not much to complain about these days.

Jan 20th.

Car is not running, what the fuck? I mean, it's a beater no doubt but still, it's one thing after another with this god damn thing. I think it's down for good this time though, and if it's not? I'm putting it down. Tired of throwing money into it so I'll just start saving for something newer, or maybe lease something. Not terribly sure. Good news is I think a storm is blowing in, Betty and Charlie are singing sweet nothings into my ear. Jeffery is apparently shy, I think the metal tubes are heavier than the others but he'll break out of his shell once the wind picks up. Fucking love storms but I think most people do, it's just the minority that are annoying enough to -tell- everyone they love storms. Like, 'Hey, I'm unique because I like a bad ass event of mother nature'. Damn, this car thing has me in a shitty mood. Understandable though, have to bum a ride from my girl tomorrow to get to work. How fucking cool is that.

Jan 23rd.

Just read over all that I've written so far, which isn't much but still pretty impressed. I had thought it would sound more like a pile of garbage thoughts but it seems to be pretty ordered. I'm not really a writer, not that I know of, never was much into reading either so don't have anything to compare this to. Well, lets get on to the venting or whatever, guess that's what these things are for? I honestly don’t know. Car is still dead, for good. Fucking mechanic said it's the transmission which will cost about a grand for the part and I stopped him before he even went into the labor. I don't have that kind of money right now nor do I want to toss it at this piece of shit. Oh well, least that is settled. Girl is fine with taking me to work, which is cool but it’s getting a tad annoying. I've been in a shitty mood lately and have been taking it out on her. It's not right of me at all, and right now I feel bad about it but damn, when I'm around her I just get this rush of annoyance. Maybe it's like a control thing or something. Like, my car is down and now I'm forced to rely upon her and I feel she finds some sort of satisfaction from this. I really don't know. But it's not right and I'm going to try and stop that shit.

Jan 25th.

so im drunk now, like... reallllllly drunk. Had a huge fight with my girl, I don't know, just tired of this shit for real. I feel smothered, told her so and it feels great. we been together for two years now? close enough and it just feels like its run dry. she thinks im wanting to see other people but that's not it at all, the last thing I want right now is someone else breathing down my neck. ill have to figure out a ride situation before Monday, maybe hit up a coworker until I get a new car. I don't know, whatever.

Jan 26th.

I'm so god damn hung over, I don't even remember typing that last entry let alone most that night. What a mess, she won't answer me and I can't blame her. I know I was a dick to her, maybe a break is good for us. Going to let her cool down for a while before I reach back out to her, probably for the best. So I look out my window before I start writing this and see that Charlie is a fucking wreck. I went out there and he is tangled unbelievably, like either a wind storm blew in and fucked him up, or some squirrels started doing cross fit on him and don't know how to clean up after themselves. I had to bring him in though, some of the strings look like knots, there's no foot prints of kids playing pranks, but I'd really not see anyone doing that out here. Maybe I'll look up a video later about how to restring a windchime and get him doctored up. He is old but no way am I going to give up on him. About the only good news I have to jot down is that I have a ride locked on for Monday. It's Saturday but I don't plan on doing shit tonight.

Jan 27th.

Sunday fun day. Who made that shit up? Probably a heathen. Or maybe Jesus, that guy knew how to fucking party. First miracle? Making wine. So many dui's that he had to ride a donkey. Drank peyote and spent a month in the desert with the devil. Called in dead to work and showed up after a three day binger like, "Crazy story guys..." I'd party with him, sunday fun day for real. But seriously, I'm not doing a fucking thing today and it feels great. Good weather, no drama, love days like this.

Jan 29th.

Ride worked out, but god damn that guy is annoying. Won't shut the fuck up, even when I give -zero- indication that I'm even the least bit interested in whatever the hell he is talking about. How do people not pick up on these clues? No eye contact, face buried in my phone and still fucking talking. Do they not see the irony in their insistent need to gain acceptance is doing very much the opposite? I swear to god if I heard he died tomorrow, I would not feel even an ounce of sympathy. The ride home was worst because I was fucking starving and had him swing by to grab something to eat. Food did not slow the bastard down, and maybe that's why I'm still hungry. The guy literally distracted my body from utilizing the calories devoured. I need to calm down, I've not been this annoyed in a long time, I know it has to do with my car and girl, just moving into a new place. Shit just seems unorganized and out of control. It's really not that bad though, I'll calm down, will get a new car and maybe work things out with the girl. Maybe.

Jan 31st.

Proud of myself, been an entire month and I'm still writing in this journal. I used to read back to what I wrote before but have stopped doing that, well except the post the night before. Sort of depressing going all the way back, even to a month it feels like so fucking long ago. I honestly can't believe how much has changed since then, the house is not so new to me, even though I'm not completely settled. My girl finally messaged me back, but I don't know, still sort of feel like a break is good. I've been pretty comfortable the last week without her and I'm taking that for a sign. The ride situation still sucks and I don't see myself getting a car anytime soon. I pay the guy for gas money but to be honest, this job is wearing on me too. They say people eat a lot during a break up and that is no fucking lie. I've gained like, ten damn pounds it seems, least since the beginning of the month and am still hungry most the time. Probably stress, which I have enough to deal with right now. Maybe I need to start working out, used to be pretty active in high school, it'd come back quick if I started.

Feb 4th.

Storms coming, Betty and Jeffery are starting to lightly sing, which is sort of cool. Puts me in a better mood hearing them talk to each other, only wish Charlie was out there with them but he is still out of commission. I meant to look up some videos on restringing chimes but never got around to it. Not that I've been super busy, I called in sick to work a couple days this week, the only fever I was running was laziness but it was a good break from dickhead driving me and the job in general. I worked today though, so don't believe I'm risking being fired anytime soon. Nor was I very productive on those days off, only left the house once and that was to get groceries, rest of the time just sat around watching tv or sleeping. I really really do need to start working out, getting a gut and I've never had one before. I've not talked to my girl in over a week, she sent me a few text but seriously over it. I probably should find it odd how quickly I'm moving on without another girl lined up, but maybe it's just the right thing for both of us. Man I do not feel like working tomorrow, might call in again, don't know. That would be three days this week and I'm sure my boss would begin to get irritated at this point. Night.

Feb 6th.

Feb 7th.

I think I'm depressed. I looked up some symptoms and I certainly fit the bill, well at least like, eating a shit ton more, isolating myself and a serious lack of motivation. What to do? Like, you can't go to the ER and tell them I've become a lazy piece of shit but maybe I can look up some info on a psych? No clue, nor do I have the funds for that shit. Honestly think it's the break up, maybe it's affecting me far more than I thought and on some subconscious level I'm compensating for not possessing the justification of a partner. But it's not like I lay around thinking about her, I don't, at all. Barely remember what she looks like if I'm being honest and that is odd. Maybe an exaggeration, just that I see her as some sort of distant memory, like my job. I have not been fired yet, but I know it's coming. I went to work yesterday for half the day then took off, rode the bus most the way then walked the rest. That was god damn miserable, insane how out of shape I've gotten. I'm not obese or anything like that, just winded as fuck trying to walk and was sweating my ass off. Another storm seems to be coming, which reminds me, fucking Jeffery took center stage that last one. Fucker woke me up half way into the night, him and Betty were singing but he was definitely dominating that round. Let's see who wins this one tonight, hopefully the victor doesn't wake me up though, that part was sort of annoying.

Feb 12th.

I am officially unemployed. Funny thing is, I was the one to quit. I didn't show up for like, three fucking days and was sure those dudes would can me but one of my coworkers sent me a text asking where I've been and that the boss was getting ready to write me up, Lol. So I texted back that I quit. No clue what came of that, didn't even read his reply, or any of the other text to be honest. I had about twenty unread, just don't feel like dealing with their shit, that's the problem with withdrawing from society, every fucking conversation is a god damn life story and lesson. I don't have time for that, well, guess I do, I don't do much these days. The tv is boring as fuck, I picked up a book but set it right down but that's nothing new really, I'm one of those readers that has to be in the mood to read, and I certainly have not been that. I just sit around and fucking eat. Luckily I still have money left, keeps me from having to leave the house, just order take out but those bills are adding up and so are my pounds. Amazing how much weight you can gain at my age, it's all good, I'm in my bulk phase of a very potential body building career. See? Still have my humor, but I didn't even smile.

Feb 25th.

Dragged ass today, which is totally different from every other day, joking. But god damn, as I look out my window my yard looks like a rain forest. I think my only option right now is to set it on fire and let god sort it out. No neighbors though, so no bitching about it, fuck it, if I'm not thriving these days then let the animals progress. I'm sure they are loving it. It would be hard to maintain even if I felt like doing it anyways with all the damn storms blowing in. I swear every other night is a new one and Jeffery steals the spotlight in all of them. That dude's got some lungs for sure, singing his ass off like he's playing a solo at the MGM. Betty's been quiet lately, I know those things can dull out, but that takes fucking YEARS, and I haven't had her near long enough for that. I went out there earlier and shook her up some, just no life in her, might bring her inside tonight to see what's up. A squirrel could have taken a shit in her to clog the pipes. Kinky.

Feb 27th.

I'm drunk again, did I mention that I've been drinking every night? Too lazy to read back but yeah, that's my new habit, eat all day, drink all night. Depression for sure, just don't know why. Sure I've had a lot of life changes in the past couple months but nothing to push me to the point I'm at now. I haven't even showered in a week, I don't get the point anymore, I never leave the house and as long as I can tolerate my own smell, who cares? Also I've been having really fucking strange dreams, not sure, like someone is watching me. I never see who it is, the other night though I swear I was awake, well one of those half dream states and could nearly feel someone on the other side of my door. Not going to lie, was a bit freaked out, so I dragged myself from bed and walked over, opened the door, nothing there. Still feel like I was half dreaming and went back to bed. It's nothing new around here to hear noises in the house or outside of it, but now every noise I hear gets me feeling some sort of way. Maybe I'll go for a walk today or something, need to get out of this house. It's fucking depressing.

Mar 1st.

Another storm blew in and did a number on Betty. I never brought her in to check her out, totally forgot about it, but I have her in now. It was a good one, fucking wind was howling like crazy, which would explain why she was sprawled across the yard about twenty feet from the porch but it does not explain the fucking smell coming off her. I'd seriously think an animal threw up in her but this is not the smell of vomit, it's decay, like a dead animal. Maybe a skunk or something walked by and sprayed her while she was down, but no clue. I have her wrapped in a towel placed in the sink, had to put all the dirty dishes to one side. She's soaking in water, maybe that will help clean her off some so I can tolerate having a look. Jeffery was unphased, still sung his ass off and survived the winds. Strong mother fucker and now I'm glad I bought him, with both Betty and Charlie down, it's like he's my motivation for getting out of this slump. If he can withstand storm after storm, then so can I. But maybe that's what's wrong with me, I've not endured any storm, it's just been a slow decline in motivation, and still more eating and drinking. A man sometimes needs adversity to remind himself he's still a man. I'll go pick a fight with a grasshopper or something.

Mar 5th.

It's 3:27 in the morning and I am definitely not dreaming. Just woke up from the same fucking nightmare I've been having, that something is watching me and right now, I'm looking out my window and I think I see someone. I'm pretty fucking spooked right now, it's not moving and standing in some waist high bushes about fifty yards from the house, so way too far and dark to make out any features. The fact that it has not moved in half an hour means it could be a small tree or something that I've never noticed before, but it has a human sort of shape. I keep watching it, waiting to see if it moves in anyway but I sincerely hope it doesn't, what the fuck would that mean. Some wild ass redneck is stalking me? I don't have any enemies outside of my own mind, so that might just be it, paranoia. I just know one thing for sure, I'm not getting a lot of sleep tonight.

Mar 5th.

Fell asleep at the desk. Last night feels like some fucked up drunken dream. I honestly can't remember where that person was standing but I don't see them any more, probably just thought it all up. But man was that creepy, just have this lingering feeling of 'what the fuck', which will stick with me all damn day I'm sure. Pizza will fix that, and coffee, lots and lots of coffee.

Mar 10th.

So it's true, your dick does look smaller the fatter you get. Not that I pay much attention to it these days outside of pissing, but jesus, this weight came on fast! I'm literally fat right now, not obese, but have never been this big before. You would think I'd be more bothered by it, but I'm not, probably too lazy to care, because caring would mean I'd have to do something about it, life is far easier to just 'go with the flow', especially when the flow is a cake walk. Get it, a cake walk. Man I got to get my shit together. Betty is still soaking in the sink, that fucking smell has gone down some, but is still lingering even after I changed the water out a few times. And my 'probably not' visitor never came back, definitely was imagining that shit. I have not even picked up my phone in weeks, don't even know where its at and the tv's been off the past few days. That part isn't so bad, sort of peaceful to be honest. Ah, guess another storm is blowing in, Jeffery is singing again, a slow, solemn tune that depicts my mood.

Mar 11th.

Well that was odd, a storm never blew in but Jeffery kept on singing, nothing super dramatic, might have just been a light breeze blowing all night, but could hear that shit in my dreams again. Like when your alarm goes off and the annoying ass sound is coming from a car horn or something, waking you up eventually. It never woke me up, but I know I could hear it, background music to whatever else I was dreaming. The 'watcher' was there, but that’s the norm now, probably some subconscious critic wanting me to get my shit together fueled by guilt. Fuck if I know.

Mar 15th.

So last night was intense. I'm debating on calling the cops but really don't know what I'd tell them. Someone was in my fucking house, but it doesn't look like they took anything. I don't even know how they got in, the front door was closed and locked from the inside, maybe it was a window around here that I forgot to shut all the way. So I woke up, late, no clue what time it was, to these foot steps in the hallway. I remember when I was a kid, I was downstairs and could hear my parents walking about upstairs, those dull, muffled steps. That's what I heard but it wasn't walking, it was like, running down the hall way past my door, would stop and run back. It wasn't an animal, I heard distinct foot steps, two legs and heavy. I didn't know what the hell to do, just laid in bed hoping to god he didn't come in. I have no gun or anything and my fat ass ain't about to go toe to toe with a fucking pillow, let alone someone with enough cardio to run back and forth for what seemed like an hour. He never said anything, probably was off his meds. Eventually it stopped, receding away and off into the night. I'm seriously at a loss. I should 'home alone' his ass and put broken glass down the hallway, I never leave my room anyways, but really just hoping he doesn't come back. I'd chalk it up to an exhausted dream, but I was awake.

Mar 17th.

I can't fucking sleep. Jeffery will not shut the hell up, I'm bringing him inside.

Mar 20th.

I don't know what I ate but god damn, this sucks. Maybe the pizza I ordered, but I get it from the same place every time. I'll spare you the details, but I'm throwing up and shitting like crazy. Head is throbbing and I have bad cold sweats. I don't think it's to the point where I have to go to the hospital, just been pounding water, trying to flush this shit out. Been about two days, if this goes on for another few I'll suck it up and head to town. I just reallllllly don't feel like dealing with anyone right now.

Mar 22nd.

Jeffery is off restriction, I didn't notice how much I enjoyed his music until I brought him inside. I don't watch tv or anything so really he is the only interaction I'm getting. There is a light breeze today so he's singing and happy. Fucking prick. I'm jealous, my head is still pounding way too hard for me to find any bit of happiness. I haven’t eaten in a week since I got sick, not that it would matter, the shit just comes right the fuck out the quickest route. I can't imagine how ridiculous I look right now, I've not shaved in a month, or a hair cut. Showers? Not so much, what's the point, I never leave the house and don't invite people over. I wear a robe and sweat pants everywhere, none of my old clothes fit anymore. It's sort of ironic, originally I started this thing so my kids could read it one day. But living like this, it doesn't seem as though they will ever exist. Depressing. Shit, I almost had de ja vu, but can't think of what it could be.

Mar 23rd.

I ate an entire fucking pizza today, and a half. Thank god that shit is over. I'm keeping food down so far and my head has stopped pounding. Last night I slept like a fucking rock. I feel pretty good actually, might hit up someone to have some drinks later. I need to get out of this funk.

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Mar 26th.

Lol, I must have made a drunk post. I was passed the hell out and don't remember typing that shit at all. I don’t know, that last part is… what the fuck. I thought about deleting that entire post, it’s fucking nonsense anyways but not sure, I feel like I should leave it. Drunk me deserves a writing career also. I never made it out of the house or called anyone for a drink. For one, I look like shit, but still I have zero interest in any form of social interaction. Nice, pizza's here.

Mar 27th.

He's here. I fucking hear him running down the hall way, back and fucking forth. I feel like a god damn terrified kid right now. I should confront the person, even if I shouted but my door does not lock and I don't want him coming in here. What the fuck and why the hell is he picking my house to lose his shit in.

He's gone. Fuck my life. He grabbed my door knob and started rattling it back and forth, I've never been so scared in my life. I have damn tears streaming down my face, mixing with the gallons of sweat I'm drenched in. I have to call the police, this person can not be in their right mind, like, what the hell would he do if he had just pushed the door open. Jeffery was singing like a mother fucker which added an eerie vibe to the entire thing. Like he was trying to warn me to get the fuck out. It's 4am right now, no way can I go back to sleep, I'm staying up just in case he comes again. But to be honest, if he came into this room I'd probably rather be sleeping.

Mar 28th.

I checked the windows and locks, making sure the place is secure. Might move furniture in front of the doors, that way I can at least hear if he comes in. I don't think it would stop him, from his footsteps the dude is huge. If he does break in and comes into my room, I just hope he is a homicidal maniac and not a gay one. That would make for a bad night. Tried to consider it being an animal again but it was definitely on two feet. I'd call the cops but still don't know what I'd tell them and what could they do? Not like they are going to leave the fucking swat team in my living room at night. I'm really hoping whoever it is gets bored and goes to another house. Jeffery is still singing his ass off at night, and there was no god damn breeze at all. That makes zero sense to me but at this point, nothing is making sense. What if I'm losing my mind, like the footsteps, the ringing, the isolation, all of this. It's 5pm, lets hope for no drama tonight.

Mar 29th.

So far so good. He didn't come last night, I put a couch in front of the door just in case but it never moved. I checked my phone for the first time in weeks and damn, few missed calls. Lol. Mom, Dad, ex.. some friends. They probably think I'm dead. I'm surprised no one has come by and checked on me. A month ago I'd fucking hate that, but now? Not sure I'd mind the company. Although I'm not sure sanity is welcome in this home anymore. Pizza still is, that's for damn sure. It's about the only thing I eat these days, with their two liter of soda. That is the one food on the planet that I could never tire of though. So, you know, got that going for me. Just started raining, that's what I need is some atmosphere to this depression. Thanks god.

April 1st.

I have no april fools joke to announce, my life is currently a joke enough. Lol, if someone reads this, seeing only one post per day they could wrongfully assume that I was a busy man. Eat, nap. That's my life right now. I don't even jerk off, have zero sex drive, don't watch tv, don't read. But it's not like I sit around bored, time is just sort of passing and I'm rolling along with it. I do look forward to these nightly posts though. It's like talking to a friend. Getting shit off my chest, I feel better after each one. Maybe I'll start posting more, morning and night or something. But really there is not ever much to write about. That dude has not come back. It's been what, 4 days? Like, where does he go when he's not here? Running around other peoples houses? If that was the case the cops would have definitely been called and maybe he's in jail right now. Running around a cell acting all fucking weird. But I really don't like to think about him. I feel far braver during the day but still, there is something completely not right about him. I feel this sense of dread, so best to avoid it.

April 2nd.

Ok, so this is something I knew would arrive but have been avoiding it. I'm sort of broke right now. Spending 20-40$ on pizza every day adds up apparently. I honestly don't know what to do. I might hit my parents up for some money, tell them times are rough, blah blah blah. But that would mean having to talk to them, which the longer you wait to talk to your parents, the more annoyingly dreadful the conversation is. I'd have to explain not answering for the last few months, my break up, losing my job and all that. I guess I could lie, "Alls' great mom, just been busy getting promoted and fucking my girl in the ass. How's Grammy?" I'm joking, Grammy is dead and I need money. I'll call tomorrow. A man's gotta eat, son.

April 3rd.

7pm, getting dark. So far so good on the intruder. I think he might have moved on, or got ran over or some shit, but a storm is blowing in now and Jeffery is loving it. I've grown to hate that fucking sound. But I don't want to remove him, it's bitter sweet. Like a reminder of the past when things were actually normal. But now he just reminds me of the intruder. I never called my mom. Just don't feel like it. I have enough to last a week, so will do so then. God damn it's fucking cold in here. I don't have the ac on, but maybe the storm is blowing in some sort of front.

thee couch moving and the dor is openng.... I cant fuccking thiink right noow, Jeffery going crazzy and this fuck is bacck.. someone please fuckiing help, god... god anyone.. he running but has stoppped.. hes outside my door.. I rememmber noww.. i remmber the womman.. fat pece of shiit, she kneww.. she solld me jeffery.. im her now.. buut she gott awayy.. i hve too geet him outt of herr.. hes not a windchimee, he a dinnner bell for the damnedd.. why do i know thiss.. help, god.. anyyyyonee.. door knobb,too latee no... nO.. WHAAT THEE FUK ISS THA T.. WHATT THE FUCKE ISS THATTTT[ALIJ[OSAOIEJW[OIANSD]OV[NV[OQIN WEV[J;LKAJ[OWI[0[JNASD[O GIUKIJIUI HGIIGKIOIIHJKIJU YUKKJUU,KYUKY UKYUKY,KYUHYPIUHJN ASODJIP8LJ;LKMAMOV[OIMIV M[EA[QONW[O[OIQEN[O NINA O[I [OIASO COICN[ [OANW[OIN WO[N[A [OINNNN MOKJ[OASOIDNAS[ONA SDIO[DAIVC DIVOIN[ON[S[[OOIN E[OSII[ND[OIDN D]ON]SOIO]N A[I]NAPOWAOP]EP]WQO[-98Q3U4IMFWE-98Q39R[WQONM[-9Q839RU WN[O-98QR4JWN[[P-93R 2WNMF[EW-972Q 3-94U2[N[F-972 3-98U423N[F3-98U23[HJ432 [NF3-9872-934U[3 N[ Q23I[O V]N[OAO[ IVJE[0N MCE99-98U7-9Q83J NN[PV[IVIN[990NCIN[N SNDA]OIAS 0]ONS A]AS]SA0A [0OA[A[OINN A]SAD9A]V909 V8E792[QWE0[ON DVSA09[OIEWRADS09OIKFEWA09IOKL43E WDS 09OPL4EWFAS09OPL4EWFA09[OIL4EWDS09O I432EW90 IOK43 2EW9 8IOKL,DSCX89O IKL32EWDSC0 9IOKM A99IOW43EDSC9 8IO32EW 09S[OIKME WADS0[IOJKML EW09[OIKL32EW09IOKLRE7U9IO'32QEWAS0'P-;L32QE W09OL,32EWS0-POL;,32QEW0OP KL32EWFDS09O KML3EWADS90[OPKML32EWA DS09OP'KMLM32QREP9W8A[ Q0932QLWA DSMLKM0 98[IJO'Q 2K3LREWFDS[IJO'KLM32 MEWFD90O'[PL; 32QEWDS9[OIJK3 2EWFD09CIJOK ;L32EW098[IJO0 4Q4023OKFEW9]0OPK'32L EWQS0-]PO'L

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auxilium…. deus… aliquis...

♫Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene ♫

♫I’m begging of you please don’t take my man. ♫

“Jolene, Jolene, Jolene…. Jolene!!!!!!!!!”

He screamed at her while pounding a fist against her bone thin chest. One dull thud after another found no response from the small girl. Her eyes were open, pupils appearing to be nothing more than a dot of black left by the tip of the finest felt pen. Soft lips were parted ever so slightly while streams of saliva escaped along the defined lines of her chin. She was not dead, not yet. He could tell by the shallow breaths she stole, but she was damn close, and he wanted nothing to do with the cleanup.

“I’m out, you stupid bitch.” He said as he stumbled to his bare feet, stepping over a couple empty syringes to a stained mattress and sitting down awkwardly. Reaching down he grabbed one worn boot at a time, shoving them on his feet, then standing and running his filthy fingers through greasy hair. His eyes darted about the place as he looked for anything worth taking but he saw nothing. Moving back to the girl, he kneeled and roughly slapped the pockets of the dingy jeans hugged tightly to her thin legs. He found only her cheap cell phone, digging that out, he stood and made his way out of the cheap motel without so much as a passing glance towards the woman. Slowly, the door slid closed behind him before it touched the trim with hardly a sound, then as if from a final judgment, clicked shut, locked from the inside.

The silence within that room seemed palpable, aside from her weak exhales. She laid half naked in the dark, the only light offered by a bulb in the far corner of the room belonging to a lamp without a shade. Her breaths came and went, at times so dispersed that one would believe she had passed, until they would accelerate to a marathon speed, as her body waged war against the dope attempting to murder her. Small, bare breast rising shallowly with each attempt at life while her thin arms laid lifelessly along her side, delicate hands resting beside her black jeans. But the blackest thing in the room cascaded about her hollow, angelic face. Her hair was as dark as the abyss.

♫Your beauty is beyond compare. ♫

“You’re so beautiful..” Lies. “God you’re gorgeous…” Fuck you. “Such a pretty girl…” Go away.

Let me die.

“You could be a model…” Stop. “What a waste, seriously…” Leave me alone. “Other women would kill to be as beautiful as you...” I don’t care. “The things I would do to you…” I don’t want to know. “How much to take you home?” Dope. “Get the fuck in the car…” Help. “Such a pretty little girl…” Please go away.

Let me die.

+

Beauty, as they say, is only skin deep. But what lies beneath Jolene were the chaotic results of how God, or genetics, ordained her flesh to be. Women of allure are glamorized in life, sought after by both men and women. The latter attempting excruciating rituals and routines to obtain such perfection, and men would throw vast amounts of money, effort and heart ache towards those beings. But woe be to the beautiful if they are born in a broken home. They were crude targets without defenses and Jolene learned that from a very, very early age.

She survived, as humans are designed to do and as many whom faced her trials, her coping techniques escalated from heat, to knives, to drugs. Every aspect of her choices would be tried, judged and convicted by even those that hurt her the most. She had grown to loath the very thing that most envied about her. Just beneath her beautiful skin, she truly believed she was repulsive, and her life decisions reflected such thoughts in a most condemning way.

She had nothing, she had no one.

That is until she became conscious in the hospital bed and a nurse told her she was with child.

Let me live.