Dear Diary,
Dear Diary,
The professor brought me this
diary so that I could write down everything I was thinking. He
said it would help me to understand my own emotions as they came,
or something like that. I like it, he must have pulled out the
credit card on this thing. It has a dark reddish-brown leather
cover. There's a lot of gold ivy vines around the edges, and
has my name embossed in silver on the cover. It has a lock on it
too, shaped like a really big ivy leaf, and the key looks like an
old skeleton key. He gave me this real cool crystal pen, the old
kind that you have to dip in ink to keep writing, nubs (what a
stupid name) and a book on calligraphy. The thing I like about it
best is the paper. I think its hand made, as a matter of fact I
think the whole thing is handmade, and it feels a little rough
when you touch it, but its real soft, almost like fur. The edges
are gold too. At first I didn't want to write in it because
it was too pretty, then I thought, what the fuck, right? Its rude
to not use something that was brought for you to use.
Its been about a month since I
fell off the roof. I can't even go up there anymore. Just
thinking about it makes my stomach hurt. The prof's been
helping me with my psychic powers and stuff, teaching me to
locate people just by feeling for their minds. I think its fun,
at least I won't walk in on Hank while he's brushing
again. I mean, I didn't know he had to brush the hair
"there", though I have to admit I liked the free show,
(Cece must be bowlegged by now.) but it was still pretty
embarrassing. I can feel my leash' a little better
now, not like its chaffing or anything. I just feels like a light
veil, that's the closest comparison I can make of it. I have
to admit the man has skills.
Things are pretty quiet now,
mostly because its almost two in the morning. I can almost feel
the old man, he's in his study, still working on how
he's going to find a contractor to build the new pool house,
one that wont blab everything he hears and sees, and he's
too nice to blind-side them. I like the idea, because the pool
gets really cold around winter, and I have no intention of
freezing my ass off if I don't have too, even with the
heater. He's even springing for a ten foot jacuzzi. Kind of
makes you wonder where he gets all his money, not that he tells
us anything. Sometimes I think that he's this huge drug
dealer that no one notices, because really, who's going to
suspect a fifty-something upper class new yorker of selling coke.
Then I slap myself, because he's as against doing stuff like
that as you can get. From all reports he went ape when Bobby
tried acid. (Though he didn't mind that much when he found
some weed in Hanks drawer, hmmmmm.)
Lila was right about one thing, I
had to start dealing again. I mean, come on, I'd been in
situations like that one before, just not as harsh. I used to
sell myself to get passages on ships, money, food, anything
before I met up with Logan, and not all of the johns were exactly
the nice type. I guess its just that before I had a choice, you
know. I could take it or leave it. I dealt with that, just like I
dealt with loosing my parents, and with everything else my shitty
life had to throw at me. So life's tough, no shit Sherlock,
you have to get over it. I'd gotten so used to things being
kind of fair that I forgot the cardinal rule in life, that its
not fair, that its down right terrible, and the sooner you learn
that, the easier it gets to live it. I'd been taking
everything for granted, thinking that I would always be safe,
that nothing could touch me if I didn't want it to. I mean,
at least I recovered, I'm not some drooling idiot in the
basement, I'm not homicidal, I wasn't horribly scared,
at least not on the outside. There's nothing I have to see
every time I look I the mirror that lets me know what happened.
So what happens now? I don't
know, and for the first time I actually feel good about that. I
don't have to worry about being upstaged because I
don't know something that someone else does. I still get
nightmares sometimes, and sometimes I think I see or hear one of
them, but even that's fading. Memories are designed that
way, so once I stopped harping on them, they went away. The
ticking is taking a little longer, though, but now I can go for a
whole day without hearing it. The professor even went so far as
to silence every ticking clock in the mansion (after I asked
him).
Logan's thinking about taking
me on another rode trip, and I'm kind of looking forward to
it. Getting out and about again is something I haven't been
real good at. I still panic if I'm in a large crowd by
myself, but the professor says that's normal, he even
scolded me when I said it was childish (I've been around him
for too long, I'm using a word like scolding, ewwww).
I'm getting better at touching, though. I can almost not
jump if someone touches me and I don't know their going too.
Just take it one day at a time, that's what both Lila and
Baldy keep saying. I wonder if they know how alike they really
are. Neither one will tell me what happened, and its just begging
for someone to jump in and stir things up. Who knows, maybe I can
get them back together. Neither one will admit it, but I think
their both real lonely.
Oh well, gotta run, soups on and
storm's making her famous leg of lamb stuffed with rice and
pine nuts. I just love that stuff.
Talk to ya later,
Jubilation Lee
FIN
