R.M. RENFIELD'S JOURNAL
19 July. - Had a visit from the good Dr. Seward today. He presented me with this journal so that I may record my feelings and any thoughts that I might have. He says it will help my progress yet I know the truth. I mentioned my knowledge not to him for I had a great favour to ask him and found it best not to infuriate him. A sparrow flew curiously around the room upon his entrance. He had, hitherto, supported my idea of pet-keeping yet had a somewhat angry demeanor and he looked oh, so tired. I was on my knees and dangling a spider from its web between my index finger and thumb when I heard him enter.
"Good morning, Mr. Renfield." He remarked with a yawn that he blocked with his fist. "How are you feeling today?" With rapture in my voice I flew up to him and then fell to my knees, my hands pressed together, praying to him- begging to him. The doctor asked me if I had something to ask him to which I said:-
"A kitten, doctor." He stared back at me with glowing eyes that seldom lit up. He smiled. "A kitten?" he questioned and continued. "You would like me to fetch you a kitten?" I shuffled to him on my aching knees and grasped his shirt collar with desperation and said:-
"Yes, a kitten! A nice little, sleek, playful kitten, that I can play with, and teach, and feed- and feed- and feed!" He looked past me and about the room, noticing that my pets had grown in size, up from flies, to spiders, to sparrows and now a kitten for which I so longed. My obscure request seemed not to surprise him as his answer revealed.
"I shall see about it." Was what he told me and noticing my disappointment continued to say, "Would you not rather have a cat than a kitten?" My mouth fell open and swung and creaked as a gibbet does. I quivered with excitement and threw my grateful hands to the heavens. "Oh, yes I would like a cat!" I cried to the kind man. "I only asked for a kitten lest you should refuse me a cat. No one would refuse me a kitten, would they?" He shook his head.
"At present," he said "I fear that it may not be possible." Then he told me that he would see about it and that I should wait on his return to my room and that it would be later. My face fell into an expression of disappointment and warning, I want a kitten. With a silent bow of the head he left me to my flies, my spiders, and my sparrows and locked my door.
10 p.m. - Dr. Seward came to see me again, only a half an hour ago. He said nothing but his face spoke for him and delivered the tragic message directly to my waiting self. Once again I found myself on my knees before him, as if he were the Lord of all creation. Which he cannot possibly be. "Please!" I begged him, saliva swinging from my twisted mouth. "Please, deliver me a cat! My salvation depends upon it! The blood is the life!" The doctor was unyielding however and left with his bad news lingering with my pets and I. With an unquenchable thirst I began to gnaw mercilessly on my fingertips till they bled.
20 July. – Yet another visit from Jack Seward. I believe he is growing fascinated with me but does not like me to call him by his Christian name. He says it is a breech of patient-doctor relationship. He says it is too informal. It was my understanding that all formalities became irrelevant and obsolete when one spends their days in an Asylum but Dr. Seward argues to the contrary. I was, and remain, in no mood to argue; in fact when he came to me today he found my whistling a jaunty tune which originated in my head this very morning. My pets are no longer with me as I have consumed them to sustain my own life and have quenched my furious thirst. I told Dr. Seward yesterday yet he ignored me-the blood is the life. The spiders eat the flies and the sparrows eat the spiders and I… eat the sparrows. The bloods of fly, spider and sparrow now run through my veins and have my spirits high and soaring. I dare not relent to Dr. Seward and tell him of my midnight feast lest he should refuse me a cat or kitten at a later date.
The attendant had not yet finished his round when he arrived, very early and caught the end of my humming session. He bid me good morning and I returned the pleasantry. I barely turned my head to look at him as I was busy again laying out sugar on my window ledge as I need more flies. He asked me what I was doing and I told him exactly that. When he asked me where the flies and the others had gone I paused for a moment and with a casual cock of my head remarked:-
"They have all gone away from me." I did not face him but continued to busy myself with the sugary flytrap. I prayed to the Master then that he would not notice the feathers and blood on the walls and floors and thankfully I do not think he did. The Master has been so good to me yet I cannot help but feel lonely of late.