I don't really know how to start this off correctly. This book was given to me by Flora. I have no idea what the hell I'm suppose to write about. My feelings is something that Flora suggested. Things about myself was another one. Luke suggested tall tales, which seemed absolutely absurd. Hershel did mention something about writing down goals for the life ahead of me, if I'm not mistaken. Things about myself it is.
A few things about myself? I've injured at least almost a thousand people, I built a fake Chinatown, oh, and my favorite color is blue. I guess I should state my name. Clive Dove.
You see, I guess you could say this started when I was about seventeen, fresh out of high school. I was left a huge inheritance by my adoptive mother, and from there on I was set. I could've conjured a business plan, but there was something about destroying something that seemed so pleasantly vexing. I can't put my finger on what it was exactly, but at the moment, it indeed felt very right to do so. I had lost three precious things of mine, and I had the mind set of doing whatever it took to get those three things back. Those three things? My mother, father, and my adoptive mother.
A large portion of this true tale had other human beings involved as well; I'm not that much of a madman to do that sort of thing just for fun. That's when you know you've gone rigid and completely insane.
Professor Hershel Layton was involved in this story. When I was ten and indeed low on my luck with the fresh slap of being lost and alone, he had helped me. I was sure that I could run back into that building and save my parents. I was so sure. He pulled me back and slapped me across the face, wondering why I would do something so stupid. I truly hadn't known what to do at that moment.
Bill Hawks, the 'precious' Prime Minister took a role as well. There was and is not anything pleasant about that old man. He was the source of all evil in this story. He killed my parents, the love of Hershel Layton's life, and many others. He was a greedy roots of a plan of greed gone wrong. But then again, where has greed ever gotten anyone? Certainly not a joy ride to the higher life full of low expectations and opened arms. Even so, that life would be horrible. It wouldn't be like your old life; you'd miss it.
Flora Reinhold. I truly feel sorry for what I did to her. She was the closest thing in my view when I had decided to hold someone hostage. She almost seemed the weakest; one who couldn't fight me back, even though she tried so hard to. I've apologized to her time after time, and even though she DID accept my apology, I still feel horrible for what I had done. She'd just stare at me with those caramel brown eyes of hers and whisper a feeble, "Clive, it's okay. Stop worrying about it, really."
Luke Triton. I had used him for a part of my plan, and I wouldn't exactly blame him if he were mad at me either. I have a feeling that he is, but he won't say anything about it. Once I had been released from jail, he was the only person who barely spoke a word to me. Until we were alone, of course. He stared me down until I couldn't bare it anymore and then said, "I know you feel bad for what you did, but it's going take a lot more than apologizing to be forgiven." I was shocked at his words. For ten years old, that boy certainly knew his stuff.
Well, I suppose that's all I really want to write right now. What a depressing entry this was, huh? Writing to a journal...it's silly, but oddly relaxing. Perhaps I'll make this into an every day thing? We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?