2/5
I have been told that writing one's thoughts on paper is a natural way to keep the mind healthy and stable. That it is known to stray the human mind from the depths of despair and darkness, a friend in any time of stress and need, something to listen and understand, no matter the circumstance.
Father repeated as such to me before locking me in this cursed place. I am an ADULT. He has no grounds to do this to me! It is completely outrageous in every sense of the word, yet… here I am.
He claims it is for my own protection, that I will be fine as long as the walls here surround me. He tells me that everything shall be fine and there is nothing to dread any longer. I am safe here, he reassures. This is my sanctuary.
I do not think I can trust him, however. The chains they have decided to bind me in has not helped my opinion at all, though I am thankful I can still write. Ever since Mother's death…
2/8
Reminder: THESE PEOPLE ARE NOT MENTALLY STABLE AND CONVERSATIONAL ATTEMPTS ARE DECIDEDLY BAD
2/10
The orderly that escorts me through the halls is rather rude. Unkempt nails, as well. When they grab me by the arm, their nails dig into my skin and it feels like being jabbed with pins.
2/23
Father came to visit today, which is only positive in the fact that they will remove the chains. He 'misses' me, he claims. He brought Mother's favorite pack of playing cards and gave them to me as a gift. I did not want them, as I've never enjoyed card games, though I took them nonetheless. I suppose I just need something to remember her by.
Every time I visited her, Mother always used to explain to me how cards and dice could foresee the future if you were to read them correctly. Perhaps, if she had never spoken of such insane ideals, she would not have been killed.
We should have never come to Paris.
3/1
Those sadistic, foul nurses. If they do not abstain their chattering and laughing about my so-called "condition," I swear on God's name my ire will be swift and merciless. No one speaks of my mother that way…
3/5
I would have never thought I could hate a bell's ring as much as I do now. I just want to go home…
3/10
I am half hoping the doctors will be disgusted with my lack of psychosis and expel me from this prison. At least the cards spare me from complete ennui in the meanwhile.
Reminder: DO NOT EAT THE POTATOES
4/15
Father visited once again. We played a few games and talked of trivial things, though all my attempts to discuss the condition of Paris' rule were disregarded. He tells me of the neighbors, of family friends back in London and how much they miss Mother and I.
I ask him why I am still in here, yet he never answers. I already know the answer, though I want to hear it from him. The bastard, ever since the fires, ever since Mother died…
4/26
Reminder: STAFF WILL NOT PLAY GAMES WITH YOU. TRY TO KEEP SELF OCCUPIED WITH SOLITAIRE
4/30
There is something rather ominous about receiving the Ace of Space first, regardless of how much you shuffle.
5/3
Despite the majority of my time spent in this room and my reluctance to speak to another outside it, it seems complete segregation from myself and the lunatics residing here is not possible.
It's odd. Try as I may to distance myself, this man is intent to converse with me. A new arrival with graying hair and the few odd scars, he would appear to be a normal fellow for it not for the persistent topic he forces upon me day after day.
Darkness. 'The heart lost into Darkness.'
I'm not quite sure what he means by this, and I am not willing to find out.
5/13
It is times like this that, God rest her soul, I wish I had never agreed to take Mother to Paris. I know I had promised because she always wanted to, that she was ill and I never actually appreciated her the way I should have...
But if I had never taken her here, if we had gone somewhere else, ANYWHERE else…
5/18
He will not give a name, though he states that I may call him "No. II". After much pleading on his part, I had finally agreed to listen to his ramblings, though on the condition that we played a few card games during the discussion.
I have needed to work with my hands much more as of late. If it is not cards, I tend to fiddle with my thumbs, my hair, anything to keep busy. I cannot be sure as to why. I have never acted as such before.
II went on to speak of his apparent obsession with Darkness and its relation to the heart. He believes if the heart is consumed with Darkness (some code word for rage, jealously, hatred, sadness, or any negative emotions), it will eventually lead to the heart's destruction. It creates a monster, he says. A "Heartless".
While I am assuming these monsters are just metaphors for harmful people, he tells that these Heartless consume the hearts of others, straying poor souls into the abyss and are generally nasty things.
Before he could say more, the staff separated us. It all sounds like garble, anyhow.
5/20
Reminder: DOCTORS WANT TO DISCUSS MATTERS IN PERSON NEXT WEEK
5/23
The orderly with unkempt fingernails does not seem to take much favor of me. I suggested he trim his nails; he suggested I hush and did not serve dinner.
5/25
The doctors claim the guilt I feel for my Mother's death has pushed me into a state of delusion, that I blame my father for sending me here when he is only trying to help. They claim I live in a paranoid fantasy-realm and that I am incapable of deciphering reality from my own, twisted imagination. They think I have lost my mind after the fires of Paris and that the stories I tell of my Father are all for attention.
They are wrong.
I feel no guilt over Mother's death - I had nothing to do with it. She was murdered for being her stubborn self, no matter what I told her. Her action caused a reaction, and I am not at fault. Though I mourn the loss, I feel no guilt.
I am neither hallucinating, nor is Father trying to "help." He wants to be rid of me. He never wanted a son, and this is his sick way of destroying me without actually staining blood on his hands - a few years late, I might add. I know what is what and what is happening, and he is using Mother's death and the currant state of affairs to keep me locked in here.
I am not insane.
I think both the staff and my Father may be a few of those Heartless No. II was speaking of.
5/27
The shadows cast on the wall become even more monstrous at midnight. I have been trying as much as possible to ignore them, to shrug them off as a tree billowing in the wind or even a crow flying past, yet II's word seem to haunt me still.
The Darkness, the Heartless. It all sounds so farfetched and silly in the morning, but paranoia feeds at night. I find myself in a horror novel, starring at the moving shadows while curled on my bed, hugging Mother's cards close to me. In the morning, it's all laughable…
At night, it's terrifying. Serpentine shapes hissing and leering…
I cannot sleep this way.
It looks like they're coming towards me
5/29
Minister of Justice, Claude Frollo is dead.
II had informed me when I questioned the state of Paris as he had seen before joining us. Frollo had been thrown off the cathedral's bell tower almost four months ago, and normality has slowly been returning after the fires.
I knew it…
5/30
Father visited again. This time, I called him upon his actions. Told him that I knew what he had done and why. I knew he'd use Mother's murder to lock me in an asylum as "safety" from the murder of gypsies and anyone even defending them! He would use it as an excuse for as long as he could, and he did! But I know now! I knew he only wanted to rid himself of my presence! He denied it, of course he did. He said I was sick, that I needed help after all the trauma, but he's lying! He's a liar and that's all he'll ever be it's all he can do is lie he lied to me he lied to Mother and now he's lying to himself I am NOT CRAZY
He knows that I am perfectly sane. He KNOWS it.
Bastard called the orderlies on me. Claimed I could not "remain calm" and that I tried to attack him.
I extremely dislike long nails now.
6/3
Reminder: STAFF DOES NOT ENJOY YOUR WHISTLING
6/20
The doctors wanted to speak with me again today, to question my "health" once more. I assured them that I was fine, though they did not believe me. They never believe me.
They wanted me to detail Mother's death, so I did.
I told them everything.
For thirty-five years, I had lived in London. It was my home; it was all I had come to know and all I wanted. I didn't want to leave. I liked my job. I liked my home. I had even met the sweetest woman named Lerena and she… Mother was ill though. And it was always her dream to go to Paris, to visit The Notre Dame cathedral. During one of my visits, she asked, begged me to take her.
I couldn't refuse. Thirty-five years and I did nothing for her aside from moving away and visiting every month.
We rented a little house near the cathedral. She suggested I stay with her because of her health, and father, no surprise, was away. I agreed, and, for a while, things were fine. Her illness had not cleared up, it even became worse, but she was happy. She was so happy…
After the Feast of Fools, however, things in town went bad. Soldiers blockaded every exit, leaving became such a horrible task to overcome. I suggested to stay longer than planned until things had died down, and Mother happily agreed. I did not want to stay, despite my words. I wanted to leave. I prayed, I prayed to God each night that we should be able to depart from this place soon, that the struggle would end.
On the third week, I heard a loud noise downstairs. Normally, it would not have bothered me so, but that night… Mother was prone to making odd sounds - she liked to dance during mundane chores, to sing and amuse herself while bored out of her mind. No matter how many times I would offer to clean up for her, she would deny me and claim "her good son needed a rest, this is a vacation for the both of us." A night would never go by without the sounds of her shuffling her feet or whistling or singing some ditty she thought of herself downstairs, so I was used to it by then. But the sound that night was different, much more… violent.
Mother never had a violent bone in her body.
I could hear voices, yelling, questioning. I knew who it was, I knew they were questioning mother about that gypsy woman. They had been asking about her for sometime now, and nothing but destruction came from it. A single woman's unknown whereabouts had burned down Paris.
I ran to check on her, to make sure she did not say anything about herself, but the moment I touched the handle, her scream rang through the house and I knew, I knew she answered wrongly, that she did not hold her tongue and yelled back, and I knew she was as good as dead now. I knew they had murdered her they murdered my mother they murdered a sixty-three year old woman for christ's sake and I ran, I ran back to my room and I knew they set it ablaze I could smell the smoke from upstairs and the window was open so I crawled out and even if I hit my knees on the cobblestone I still had to get out of there and I ran and I ran and
6/27
II has been missing for the past three weeks. When I asked and gave his description to a staff member, they told me that no such person had ever been admitted here.
…I feel ill.
6/30
why can i not stop watching the shadows
7/31
Father came to visit earlier, though I was still asleep. A staff member gave me the necklace he wanted me to have. It belonged to Mother. I cannot open the locket though, and considering whom it belonged to, smashing it open is out of the question.
I will just try day by day, I suppose.
7/5
I feel ill.
I am not sure if it is simply from the stress of being in this godforsaken asylum for six months now or if I am truly sick. Regardless of origin, it hurts. I am constantly nauseous and dizzy; I have a hard time standing for any amount of time. All I can do lately is either lie in bed and play with Mother's old cards or sleep. My stomach flips at the thought of consuming anything, and I haven't touched a meal in two days now. The doctors do not believe me and tell me I am overreacting, but I know I'm not. I know.
I am sane. I am.
7/7
I miss being home. I miss my Mother and my friends and how we used to sit around and watch her "read the future". I miss the songs she would sing and the dances she made to go with them. I miss how she loved Father despite his faults and sometimes her love for him would make him actually see me as a son. I miss the sun on my skin and my own house back in London I even miss that pathetic job, I miss
i miss my life
i want to go home
7/23
theyre getting closer the shadows are getting closer and ever closer still
heartless
8/14
people are dying
succumbing to the darkness
oh dear god in heaven help me
9/6
ive finally succeeded in opening mother's old locket.
it is nothing more than a broken watch on a string. not a picture of her or our family or anything. a broken useless watch.
what in gods name…
9/7
closer and closer
9/7
closer and closer
9/7/7/9/9/9/9/9/9/9/9/999999999999
CLOSSEER AAND CLOOOOSERRRRR
9/15
it shouldnt be ticking its a broken watch its eternally stuck at ten o'clock for god's sake it shouldn't be ticking
i am going to kill that insolent quasimodo if he does not cease that ringing
9/23
this building is in shambles
the staff is terrified they all keep huddling with each other in their rooms scared of the shadows the shadows that taunt us all
the insane are terrified just one more thing they do not comprehend
i wont give in
i have to be strong
i am GETTING OUT OF THIS CURSED ASYLUM AND I AM GOING HOME
10/1
father came to visit
i tried to strangle him
10/12
i know now i know it
the ace of spades ace of spades black flipped heart empty empty
death
i cant die in here i wont let it happen
burn in hell you lying cards
10/30
mother im sorry i am so sorry i didnt mean to i didnt i wanted to help you but i was scared i was so scared and i was ashamed of who you were and i let them do it i knew who they were and they knew who you were and i did nothing i stayed in my room and listened to you die you died and its my fault its my fault and maybe you were not even killed when i heard you scream maybe i left you there for dead i did not mean to i oh god oh god i want this to all have been a dream i want to open my eyes and youll be singing those songs and i wont be ashamed of you ill be your son again i wont let anything happen oh god please give me another chance mother i am so sorry oh god i
11/1
cant sleep
shadows
11/2
burn in the fire pits of hell father
thisisallyourfault
123456
i am slowly going crazy
654321
i want to go home
11/13
its broken it should be broken but it will not cease its TICKING AND TICKING and i know its counting down its counting down to something but i i i do not know what i and those bells outside keep RINGING AND THESE SHADOWS KEEP COMING TOWARDS ME TRYING TO CONSUME ME I WONT LET THEM I HAVE TO BE STRONG I WILL NOT LET THE INSOLENT BASTARDS TAKE ME THEY WONT TOUCH ME GODDAMNT IT BUT ITS ALL TOO MUCH ALL OF THIS I WANT THEM TO STOP IT I WANT THEM TO STOP I WANT TO GO HOME I NEED TO GO HOME MOTTTTHHEHEERERRRR
13/34
im losing time aren't i
11/23
mother
10987654321/////
father is coming to visit today and i am simply brimming with excitement to show him my new card trick
i hope he has not seen it before
did you know that cards are capable of killing a man if used correctly?
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