Dear Diary,

I've never written in the diary before, so don't be upset at my stupid sentences. I was told - more like ordered - to write down everything I think and to show my emotions. I seriously doubt they have any clue about how I feel or what I think. They have no idea about it. They act like they know us oh-so-well and they know our feeling too. Yeah, right. They are simply pretending. I wish they would just stop but I know it's their job.

I'm 17 years old girl and my name's 'the one and only'. That's the name I have received from the police. I'm not popular and I've never been on TV before but people know me. I had been given this nickname for only one reason: I survived the sharp knife of the infamous serial killer RJ.

To say I've never heard of him would be a huge lie. I don't believe there's someone who doesn't know him and what he has down so far. The only think I don't understand is that I don't know why he had chosen me. What he wanted from me.

I was told that when I'd returned to my house, my parents were in the living room. It seemed that they were practically swimming in their own blood. I don't really remember that. I didn't even know about it till I had woken up in the hospital.

The doctor said I was found in my room with lots of bruises, cuts and broken ribs and right arm. Then I was put in coma to heal properly \. It has been six months since then. The police officers had been itching to question me. I was the only survivor and they wanted answers as soon as possible.

I'd agreed with the doctor and he let the men in the ward. I told them I would help as well as I could. I told them I didn't know anything. Then they started asking me stuffs like where did I live? When did I get home? Did my parents fight? Was I a depressed child? Did I have enough free time? What did I do during it? Did I have any friends? Their names? Whom did I trust the most? Why didn't U trust the others?

After an hour of questioning me, they finally began asking about that dreadful night. I repeated that I didn't remember much but they didn't stop. Did I see my parents that day? yes. Were they fighting? No, why would they?! Were they upset or nervous? I don't know. Did he say anything? I don't know. Why didn't I protect myself? Did I wound him?

They went on and on till I didn't see the nurse holding the vase full of red roses. It was like everything had faded and I could only see the vase and behind them big bloody smiley face. Two bodies were laying on the carpet, swimming in their own blood. There was a man too - sitting between them and the smiley face. I could see - feel? - his sad smile behind the mask, though I don't know how. He was holding the knife but there was gun resting on the table. The man stood up from the chair when he noticed me. He grabbed the knife tightly and came towards me...

The I screamed...

Now I'm still stuck in the hospital, but it's the different one. It's like I'm in the jail but there are no bars and the room is white, sickingly white. And there's silence everywhere I look...

Dear diary,

My name's is Alice M. Lorens and I'm insane, officially.

Hello everyone. Yes I know I should look for my precious stories but this one was in my mind about too long and I couldn't help but write it down. Yesterday was my b-day! Yay! And my parents finally decided to fix my computer so as soon as I hold it I sat and wrote this chapter. I'm feeling like flying! It's so good to type on the keyboard ^_^ I'll be very happy if you guys will R&R 3 You can do that, can't you? Especially when It's about MY Simon Baker 3 God! I really want my own Patrick Jane ^_^ God can be good with me and send me him right?