It has been so long since I've been in control. I am made to do terrible things. Unthinkable things. Is it worth it? All these peoples' lives for his? What if... no, he'd do the same for me.

At first I was horrified by his actions. No, there aren't words for how I feel. I pray for release - if God will even have me now. It is destroying me. If I manage this, what will Jack be coming back to? I won't be the same - not by far. I can barely think. Barely rationalize. He - it starves me body and soul.

I want to - I try to fly away, slip out but he won't let me. Sometimes I forget what it's all for. I just can't think or remember. And other times I'm paralyzed. With horror, with terror and grief. The killing, the way he kills, the way we kill with my hands. This blood will never wash off. It stains me and when he looks at me I'm afraid he'll know. He'll know and he won't want me anymore.

Perhaps it knows. Perhaps this is its intention. To unhinge me. It's working.

I can fade away sometimes, like I'm asleep even though I don't have eyes to close. At first for only a few seconds. And then, longer for minutes, hours and days. I can't fly away but I can hide. That's all I have. When I can't hide; when I can't find that dark corner away from it; I try to remember.

But it's hard. It's fragmented. It's murky and water-logged. It's another life. It was another life. Like it was on a different place of existance. I can't believe it sometimes. Can't believe I actually lived it. I can't picture my life. The way it was, the way we all were. Normalicy. But I try. I hang on to them. Especially the memories of Jack.

I feel weak and tired - no exhausted. Who is he again? What's the matter? How did I get here? How come I can't -

In and out and in and out. Like the song, I think I used to like it. I'm not sure. I can't be sure of anything anymore. What if it is all nothing, what if I've always been like this and these are just thoughts? Fantasies?

No I remember who I am! I must. That's the key - to this whole thing. I've just got to endure it. Others have come before me and others will come after me.

I am blankness, darkness, nothingness. What am I possibly composed of in this form? In this state I will not last long. It must know this. It is agony. I try to remember his voice. I try, I really try. I push and concentrate. It was gravelly yet soft. No, it was smooth and deep. I can't, it's faded, gone before I can even hear it.

It hurts, everthing hurts. I can't stand it. Not a second longer. I want to scream but have no voice - no mouth - no lungs. Not a second longer. I twist in agony but there is no where to go. It is this soft blackness everywhere I turn. I wonder if I even have eyes. I shudder but I haven't got the hands to check.

My life is like a dream. One you forget as you open your eyes and each second passes. I cannot even recall what I was just thinking. I'm so tired, but I cannot sleep. There is no silence and no peace. It buzzes inside me like angry wasps. Don't forget them! Don't forget us! Don't forget what? Tall, slim, dark hair that hung in his eyes. Who is this? I can't see his face, see if he's someone I know. I can't think of anyone I know. He's just a snippet of my imagination. It would help, I know it would. Grey. They were grey weren't they? Or blue maybe? He fades but he was already in the dark to start with.

I remember being held, hands on my shoulders, slipping under my bra straps. Big hands, rough, warm hands. Holding me close, gripping me, pressing me to him. Then the hands are gone, ghosted away like the rest of him, like the rest of my memories.

There is one thing. One thing I cannot forget and I wish I could. The night with all the men. I was alone. Wandering a town looking for people and keeping my eyes peeled for the vagabonds. I saw light from a fire in a window and I entered the building. My gun was drawn. I think I remember being good at this job.

It was dark, like ink. It smelled like ashes and smoke. I snuck up to the room. Then the shovel. Falling. Blankness. The tearing and pain. The men on top of me. Screaming. The stench of their sweat and smoke from fire. Stop it! Forget! Let it fade like the rest... ignorance is bliss.

Below me there is a tickle. A flutter. I can hear a heart, maybe that's just me and I'm upside down. Sometimes it pushes against me. I think it is getting bigger. It's a funny little thing that I just can't figure out. I wonder what it is and why it's there. Or maybe it's just my stomach. Or maybe I'm not alone in here.