2018 October 31
I found myself far below the ground level of the street. How did I get to these cold, damp, dark cellars? My memory of my passage is but a blur. I have found myself once again on the ground. I seem to be falling quite a bit lately. Maybe I should go visit a doctor.
A pale blue light surrounded me. So it wasn't completely dark, I guess. I could smell water. What the hell? It seems I have come to the edge of an underground lake. Memories surface of a woman and a man in a mask…and a boat. As quickly as they come (the memories), they vanish. Who were they? Why did I think of that? More importantly, what were they saying or even doing? It seems so important, like it is an important piece of my history.
There should be a boat, I think as my mind starts to go on autopilot. My mind is numb, but my eyes are wide open, drinking everything in. A stone wall: why did I come here? My limbs, which I realize are skeletal, thin, and boney, move like automatons. A hidden door opens before my very eyes.
Dust. It is everywhere! I fumble around for a light switch, but find none. How am I supposed to see? Ah, yes! Candles! I could use candles! And there is a plentiful amount of them around! And there are matches—right there!
I strike a match and light a candle. The darkness lifts a bit with a warm, gentle glow. I go around lighting more and more candles. A part of my mind awakens and releases a flood of memories from my vanished childhood…
--- Angelique
1889 October 31
Who is the masked man? Why am I going with him? Why isn't Mama coming with? Why? Why, why, why? I start to cry. I doubt anyone can see the tears on my face in the darkness. Mama! Don't leave me! Please! I have done nothing wrong!
The man takes my hand. His fingers are cold and thin, thin and long like mine. Is he my father? Why, then does he wear a mask?
"Don't cry," he says while wiping my tears with his soft cloak. "No one will harm you, least of all, me."
His voice is soft and angelic. It calms my turbulent emotions inside my head. He sings a soft lullaby, and I fall asleep.
--- Angelique
1889 November 1
She's asleep, the poor thing. Does she even know? I'd hate to see her go through all that I had to. All the rejection, the hate, the fear. Oh, how could God have done this to another child? How?
She takes after me in every way. It is intolerable, the fate that awaits her in the outside world! I will love her as best I can…
(Erik)
Where am I? This isn't my bed!
I begin to cry. There is a damp chill in the air, like the cellar in Mama's house.
"Mama?"
A music, soft and gentle, yet full of emotion, fills the air around me. It fills my mind.
"Papa?"
--- Angelique
2018 October 31
Was this my home for a majority of my childhood? Despite the dust, it matches my early memories. Has no one even come here?
A little cleaning, and this hobbit hole could become habitable.
I decide to explore more of this lair and the secret passageways and trapdoors. No one knew or knows these secrets better than Erik, and I may be the only one left alive that knows his secrets. Broken mirrors everywhere, were they always that way? One room was left untouched. Father, yes, my real father, often spoke of mother, who I barely remember, as that being her room and allowed no one, neither father nor me, to venture inside. What is in that room, what is behind that closed door?
Curiosity overcomes my respect, after all, am I not the only one here? The door, it seems, is not locked. And I wonder if it ever was.
For some reason there is very little dust for not having been touched for so long. And there, or by (or against) a wall, was a mirror! And in that mirror was a monster! I turned around to look to see where the monster was, but I am alone! I walk up to the cold glass, feeling its cold, indifferent smoothness. And the monster touched back! I let out a painful howl of fear, and I black out as another memory surfaces unbidden…
--- Angelique