Log
from August 29th:
I
tossed the bag again, only for it to reappear every morning since then. I’m
going crazy – every time I pass people, I swear I hear them whispering about
me. It’s as if they know.
And
I feel that goddamn presence, watching me and following me everywhere
and I can’t. I can’t deal. I need help.
If
my Mistress sees this, I beg of you; come back to me. I’m not safe, without
you. I know they’re all just waiting for the perfect opportunity, even
though they have yet to touch me. It’s like their perching at the back of my
brain and slowly scraping grey matter away.
I’m
crying, now…please. Mistress, please. Don’t leave me alone.
COME TO ME. just come to me! forget her and i will help you.
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