Hi there! My name is Absentia, but everybody calls me Abby. Or, rather, that's what I want everyone to call me. If you're reading this, I assume you're me, Abby, but in the future. If you're not me, then you are a creep! Put my book down! ...If you're still reading, then you're definitely me, and by some miracle the doctors were right, and you wanna know what was going on with me today. I think it's totally ridiculous, but here you are, aren't you? Maybe you're being forced to read this for some mental-wellness exercise. If nothing else, I hope we still agree that those are stupid as heck. Well, here's what I've been thinking of lately; what landed me in this place in the first place. Do you remember that? Our first real bad murder? I do. He was a real cutie.
You know how when you do something wrong, people are always quick to tell you your faults? Yeah, this isn't one of those times.
That's us! Look how cute I was back then, all innocent and wanting to love again. I mean, nineteen years being stuck in a torture chamber would make any girl yearn for proper and normal love again, wouldn't you think? That used to be our stupid goal you know: love! As if anyone is good enough for us. This one guy thought he was. I don't even remember his name, so let's just call him Aaron, because it's the first name in the alphabet. Aaron was a nice guy, I guess. He was annoying, always overdressed, and always gave off the kinda vibe that screamed "look at me, I'm stressed!". He totally liked cuddling, long walks in the park, and even though we never got to that stage, he totally liked sex in the dark. Basically, he was totally basic.
Well that's what we wanted back then, remember Abby? Totally basic. Something to start over with before exploring again. I mean, no one ever wants to admit to themselves that they, in some form, fetishized their own pain and suffering. But there was one big problem: I was S O O O O O O BORED. I mean, come on, this guy had NO personality in public. Then in private, his personality was boring, only trying to please me at every chance. And don't even get me started on our visit to meet his parents. Oh my gosh, judgey much? They didn't like that he was dating a little demon girl with fresh scar tissue all over her body. They kept asking questions like "Do you need something to eat? You're so thin!" and "Do you want bandages? You keep picking at your wounds." and "Were you kidnapped? Is that why you're so damaged?"
Remember the look on their faces when you told them your parents were the ones who did this to you? Priceless! They looked as though I killed their firstborn son! Which I hadn't, not yet, anyways.
So finally I decided to take this relationship to my next level. Do you remember how excited he was to please you? I told him I wanted to try cooking for dinner. He had no idea that I put that sleeping pill in his quiche. Probably because that thing was burnt to a crisp. No one ever taught me any kitchen safety things, so you can't blame me!
He was so confused when he awoke tied up in the basement like that. Little Aaron tried to break out of his little restraints for five minutes, it was so funny. When I finally came out of the shadows, he was all like "Abby? What are you doing?!" it was so cute, I let out a little giggle. I told him this was something I'd wanted to see since day one. And, if I'm honest, I wasn't really exaggerating. I thought I wanted basic, average, and normal, to try and restore my own sanity and stop being such a weirdo, but was that really something I wanted? I think I just convinced myself that normal was good, but normal is lame! "You're insane!" He shouted. "Don't come any closer!" He shrieked as I stepped slowly towards him. I still remember the unrelenting horror in his eyes. It looked incredible.
The rest is a little bit of a blur up until my hand was up against his throat, and he was fighting to breathe. Watching him desperately try to get free as I tightened my grip slowly but surely. Watching his face go from pale, to red, to purple, until I heard the snapping sound.
Oops!
Things got a little nutty after that. The parents never forgave me, obviously. At first they were all like "Have you seen Aaron? He's not been home in days." and then when I told them about what happened they were all like "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" and started crying. The dad even tried to punch me! Of course, I broke his arm at the elbow for trying, but I can't say I blame them. I guess they did take care of him for his whole life, it would be a total waste of money for him to die from a broken windpipe like that. I remember being super disappointed; I never meant to kill him like that. I wanted to suffocate him; it would have taken longer. Oh well, they say 'if at first you don't succeed, try try again' for a reason I suppose.
Do you remember we had to skip town? His parents got the town to turn into a mob and tried to skewer me with pitch forks! Talk about testy townsfolk. I musta spent weeks walking walking in the middle of nowhere. I gotta admit, I was getting kinda desperate after a while there. I betcha if I hadn't wandered into a new town in a blind hunger induced stumble, I woulda starved. It's all kind of a blur, but I think someone directed me to this really nice bakery, run by this real nice middle aged couple. They didn't even think to ask if I had murdered someone in the past couple of days, they just fixed me up a nice mince-meat pie. I think that was a huge gamble on their part; what if I was a bloodthirsty psychopath, bent on killing everyone in my peripheral vision? I mean, what I actually am isn't much different from that, but I could have been that is what I mean!
I'm telling you Abby, the first thing you have to do when you get out is go back to that place. I don't care if I go nuts and burn down an entire big bustling city or whatever, I'll never ever have the heart to destroy that little bakery. They give me their pies for free! And their pie is the first "wholesome" thing I ever enjoyed! I never want to lose that feeling I get when I bite into an apple-cinnamon pie. It feels like the same kind of happy as when I drive a knife through someone's chest, but instead I'm just enjoying something small instead of hurting someone (or myself). It's weird, and I like it.
Of course, it's only really nice when I'm not interrupted by the bad voice in my head. I don't like how they talk to me. It's like they just want me to always want me to be doing something bad I don't want to do bad right now I'm in my happy place leave me alone leave me alone you ALWAYS do this I just want to enjoy something for once cOULD YOU GO AWAY GO AWAY SOMEONE TALK TO ME SO IT GOES AWAY
Hiiiii again, Abby! Sorry about that abrupt ending, I got a little "unhinged" as the doctors say. They had to sedate me, and I was asleep for fifteen hours according to them. They thought they may have gone overboard; I'm so skinny, or "mal-nourished" as they say, that stuff like that kinda goes through my system way too fast. Anyways, the doctors said that my journalling was really good because they got to know what my happy place is. They even said if I don't try to maim my nurse this week, they'll buy me a treat from my favourite bakery! I mean, it's absolutely bribary and possibly blackmail, but pie is pie and it's really nice. Anyways, I don't know what to write about this time. Yesterday, I was on a roll because I thought about my first "high" that I got from Aaron, but I don't really want to tell the doctors what else I've done. Not yet, at least.
By the way, Dr. Stanton, I know you're reading this. You said this was a private space for me to write to myself, but I know you really wanted me to write my feelings and thoughts here so you could diagnose me as untreatably insane, or whatever you doctor people say. It's called the easy way out, and I should know. Anyway, my feelings are my feelings, not yours. If you want to read my thoughts, you're going to have to become a psychic ninja. But I don't think you'll learn how to do that. I mean, just look behind you!
Goodbye, Dr. Stanton.