Diaries: Night's Sleep

Week Seven.

Can't sleep. Too much noise. Got out of solitary a few days ago. But now... all this noise... In solitary it had been too quiet. I had yearned for any sound. But now...

It's something to do with the collar, I know. The sounds aren't real. They are all illusions. He's testing me. Trying to push me. Trying to break me. But I won't let him. I'll break through the noise with my thoughts, my words. I'll force myself to concentrate on something else. It'll be easy. I'll just write. Continue writing. Over the screams. The constant screams. The yelling, the begging, the cries of pain. Maybe he thinks the contrast will break me. Too quiet to too loud. I won't let him break me. I'll just write over it.

The days are so repetitive. Get up, eat, go to work, break, work again, then back to bed. A mind such as mine craves challenges, activity. This is just... monotonous. Every day the same. No differences. The only challenges I receive are the times when the Commandant calls me to him to answer for some misdeed, some disobedience. I have almost begun to relish such exchanges, as twisted as it seems. They are new, they are unpredictable. And whilst I can feel the affect his attentions have on me, they serve as a break from fighting against no-one. At least I can have an outlet for my anger.

But I can't allow such thoughts. I will not let him become the one thing in this place I actually look forward to. And, besides, every encounter with him serves as another chance for him to finally break me. To take away my memories for good.

Avo, that screaming... will it never end? I know that it is not real, that there is no need for concern, but every scream... it cuts through my heart. It is in my nature to feel the pain of others. And this is a torture I would never expected the Commandant to be so intuitive to make use of. He is cleverer than I thought.

Lucien is clever. To have created this. To have fooled them all. To have tricked them all into obeying without question. The entries in the diary I recovered were... interesting. And terrifying. To look into his thoughts... It is no wonder he is like he is. He is broken. Obsessed. To lose his wife and his daughter, ones so close to him, pain without measure, nobody could understand his grief. Except me. Rose was my wife, my daughter, my mother, my only friend. She was my protector, my only companionship, the one who I loved more than anything else in the world. And he murdered her.

It is incomprehensible how he thought such an evil could save this ruined world. He did not even see the irony. If it wasn't for people like him... this world wouldn't be ruined.

I must sleep. I must at least try. But, every time I put my head down, attempt to allow slumber, another scream echoes through my mind. I cannot sleep with this. I have enough trouble sleeping during peace. Avo knows what I would see if the last thing my mind picked up on was this.

My dreams as of late have been... troubled. Their occasional preoccupation with that night in his study has become a nightly obsession. Before it was just a brush. A sporadic missed night, a rare bad dream. Now the world is a perpetual nightmare. I can't sleep. I daren't sleep. Rose's face haunts my waking. I regularly waken to the sound of a gunshot, just that one, loud bang. I think it is being so close to Lucien. I have not seen him since that day on the docks. But just knowing he is in the same site as me is enough to conjure up a vicious hunger I cannot suppress.

I do not like that part of me. The part that yearns for blood. But it is all I hold on to. Theresa once told me that it is only my anger that keeps me together, my want for revenge. And maybe that was true, once. But revenge is not all that is in my heart now. I have others, others that I love, others that I would do anything for. But I fear that any substantial exposure to this nightmare will change that, however. I want to remember my family. I want to remember my name, who I am, what I fought to represent. But I can feel all sense of self slowly draining away. Soon I fear my only remaining emotion will be hate. And, if that should drain away... what would be left?


Things to Remember:

o Bower Lake. A place I will miss.

o The feel of the sea, the ocean, waves of salt, and clean, sharp rivers.

o The warmth of a recently lit fire, after a day out in the cold.

o The sun, setting over Oakfield meadows, the harvest grain turned into a sea of golden fire. The most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

o Michael. I love you. I will return.

o My beautiful Rose Marie.

o Dearest little Mattie.

o Rose. My sister. May your soul rest in peace.