Sunday, 22 April 2012

APRIL 22, 2012

Log from April 22nd:

She has shown no sign of regaining consciousness, but it appears as though she used my computer.
She left several news stories open on my browser. One dates back to 1999, concerning the identification of a body; his body was nearly destroyed on the surface, but tests confirmed that the body was that of a school teacher who worked at [REDACTED]. Just outside downtown Ottawa, closer to the south end.
Apparently, there were rumours that he was a pedophile. He had been preying on students for years. The murderer was never found…but his body was empty.
His blood had been drained, but no one ever found a drop.

April 22nd (evening):

Jack and I are reading through his book. He was upset that the Mistress has not awakened yet. I hoped to calm him by bleeding for her even more, but it seems that I am running low. I can hardly move, for the vertigo, and I am extremely weakened. I can no longer tell whether my body is freezing, or my apartment. I am so cold and numb that it feels like I am on fire.

His love for me is shallow
And where he goes, there’s aloe
It’s a matter of fir
Before I end up like her
He’s left me a bouquet
I can’t lily him away
I accept the bittersweet
I’ll be strewn across the street
He will rip me apart
If it means he’ll have my heart
Cyclamen, my friend
Begonia his stalking trend.

Excuse me, sir, you’re in this film
It seems you have no face
I feel as though you’re watching me
But that can’t be the case

You are in every corner
Should I bother trying to run?
I fear for my sanity
And you’re just having fun

Are you driving me to suicide
Or trying to make me yours?
I feel as though you’ve tainted me
Your mark is in my pores

Don’t make me your proxy
I can’t bear to be your slave
But you’ve had me since childhood
So drag me to my grave.

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