Part II - The Third Journal

(The official themes to this storyare "Nothing Else Matters" and "Unforgiven" by Metallica. Not because the lyricshave something to do with it, but because they play on repeat whenever I sit down to write a chapter. If you can get the Unforgiven remix by DJ Trashy too...that would complete the set. Enjoy:))

Thursday (9:47 pm) - I'm writing this at the station. I hitched a ride out here about an hour ago and have another 40 minutes before my train arrives. I'm sitting one of those rows of plastic chairs right now, next to this creepy guy who keeps trying to sneak a peek over my shoulder.

Last night was pretty damn anticlimactic. I simply walked out. He didn't really LOCK the door per say, more like slid a very rusty bolt in place that was easy to smash through. It took over an hour and I'm sure I twisted my ankle but hey...it was worth it.

Johnny wasn't home when I made it upstairs. Or was home but hiding someplace. I walked out the front door with my backpack and went home.

It was ransacked. The front door was broken in and lying on the floor, my living room was trashed, unpacked boxes were lying on the floor with half their contents thrown around...my television was ON go figure. My phone line was cut so I didn't bother calling the police. I didn't want to anyway. It was a weird thing, you know? Like how Clarice knew that Hannibal wouldn't try and kill her after he escaped from prison. I knew Johnny wouldn't REALLY come after me...I grabbed some clothes, all the cash I had on hand (he left my room alone for some reason) and simply...went away.

Which is how I ended up HERE. Next to a homeless guy. Who is now leaning in farther than he should. He stinks.

Saturday (4:12 am) - So yesterday was a mess. Let me try to reconstruct:

Mr. Homeless was also a pervert. I don't know how it happened but he tried to pull a sneaky touchy-feely trick on me and next thing I knew, I was trying to slap his hand away from under my t-shirt. No one else was around to see this or help me, so I began freaking out. He grabbed for my shirt with both hands and ALMOST knocks me down. I'm leaning against the wall trying to pry his fingers off me. I'm getting really angry. Suddenly, before I know it, I had buried my purple ink pen into his eye socket and he was off me, writhing around on the filthy floor screaming. I felt the warm blood gush down my wrist and drip off my elbow.

While I'm screaming, I feel a vice clamp around my waist and lift me clear off my feet. I start kicking but I hear a familiar voice hissing at me to "quit it". Johnny drags me away from the screaming homeless guy and down the corridor.

People started appearing (where were they when I was getting molested, huh!). I saw flashes at this point, really. People shouting...Johnny raising a boot and kicking this poor obese woman in the gut, her keeling over...my ribs were still tender and his was really starting to hurt them. We somehow made it outside, where even more people were running by us. Not one of them slowed down to ask us what we were doing, or why I was being dragged bloody out of the station.

He pulled me crying into his car and shut the doors. There we sat for a good 30 seconds while I tired to slow my breathing (I was hyperventilating). When I didn't calm down after that, he back handed me pretty good.

"Shut up," he said angrily, "you fucked up, just shut up already."

"Oh god," I was sobbing, "I think I killed him!" I buried my face in my hands.

"You didn't kill him," Johnny said, speaking as though I has just said the stupidest thing in the world, "you blinded him sure but did you see all those people? They just LOVE it when something like this happens, it brings them all closer together," he turned the key and the car sputtered to life, "or some sick shit like that. He's going to live at least," I didn't even notice that we were headed back to his house until he stopped abruptly in the garage.

"Get out," he commanded, sweeping a hand through his hair again.

I climbed wearily out of the car and collapsed on the ground, tangled in my seat belt, half still in the car. I felt myself being pulled up. Nny had me under the arms and was roughly dragging me to my feet.

"Get up, don't make me carry you," he was saying.

I remember falling into my comfortable mattress again and then the lights went out.

Monday (upon first awakening) - Cotton mouth is disgusting. When was the last time I brushed my teeth?

Johnny was here first thing (is it morning?) yesterday to wake me up. I had a vicious stomach ache and he helped me up the various stairs to the bathroom, where I proceeded to puke out whatever I had eaten in the last few hours. He then offered me soup, which I ate because I suddenly realized I was hungry. He didn't hit me again, or even say that much. He looked tired as hell though. We had a mini-conversation.

"I cant believe I did that," I said to my soup.

"Neither can I. That was sick."

"I am going to throw up again."

"If you do, I'm going to kill you."

I started laughing at this, and the tension was broken. For the rest of the day, me and him watched TV and I was even able to take a shower before crashing on his couch, which he gave me permission to do.

Tuesday (exactly 7:00 am) - Nny informed me that he can't hear the voice anymore. He called her "Batgirl", and said that he didn't hear her speaking anymore. He claimed she spoke whenever I was asleep and was a violent, angry person. I told him he's schizophrenic. He laughed at me bitterly.

He's not bad once you get to know him. Sure, his temper is explosive. Sure, he's deliciously insane. Sure, he'd kill you in a second BUT once you sit down and have a nice long talk about nothing in particular, he's really nice and cooperative. Intelligent. Twisted, but intelligent.

He also said that while I was downstairs that first week, police cars were all OVER the place. He said they came to his home many times to ask questions but, he grinned at me, he was never caught. And never will be.

I wouldn't have believed him before but you can't argue now. He is invincible.

Thursday (2:33 am) - Woke up with a very sore back. This couch is killing me. I whined to Nny about it for a few hours. He waved me off and went brooding. He does that sometimes. I meanwhile went go amuse myself by staring out the window for a while. I wondered weather or not they'd come after me for stabbing that guy. Its been on my mind for a long time, but it wasn't as bad as some of the shit I've seen lately. Nny's done much worse.