Dear Diary,
I see that what I did was a bit extreme.
I'm kinda sorry if things got out of hand.
So many people yelled at me. People I could never see.
I waited for them to go away, but they never did.
I never told anyone about them as they slowly drove me to enlightenment.
Overtime, they got louder. They screamed at me, so I couldn't hear their screams.
I tried my best to recreate my past, in hopes I could salvage what I lost.
But I never realized that there was no saving it. How could you save something that's already gone?
I wanted to preserve my love, to keep it safe and unopposed.
But then she came. She was so nice.
I didn't think she'd be much trouble. So instead I used her as a vessel for my own recreation.
The only problem was that she knew who I was. It must've been my voice.
The voices screamed at me for days, telling me to protect myself. I didn't want to listen. I didn't want to end who'd I'd grown to love.
So I held her down again, but with different intents. The voices screamed and screamed. But I couldn't do it.
She ran and ran. And me? I waited.
I've gotten better, but the voices never cease. Sadly, I miss the chaos. I miss the muffled screams and the struggles. Not only that, but the warm feeling of blood is just so captivating.
The soul's spirit, the red mercury, the murder's red wine; blood. I know I shouldn't be writing this down. They read everything. But they said to be honest.
It's been a long time since my departure, it makes me curious.