In Which the Darkness Deepens

Dear Diary,

Today.

This is one of the hardest sentences I’ve had to write. Maybe the hardest. Every time I go to write it down my hand shakes a little and I can’t really make myself stop crying. I’ve tried. But it is what it is, right? That’s what I told Chantel. I didn’t even know what I meant. But it’s what I said.

Today I buried my mom. There. I wrote it. It’s real now. It’s permanent. It’s forever. Today we had a service and said some things and then went to the gravesite. She’s buried here. In Canada. Miles and miles from home. No one came because we don’t know anyone.

I saw Vincent here and there amongst the people. Maybe I just wanted to see him there even though I knew he wouldn’t be. He couldn’t be. After what I said to him, when I told him I would kill him if he ever came near my family again…

I meant it when I said it. But now? After everything? After what I’ did? I can’t really say that I would kill him. Maybe I would. I have no idea what I am anymore. The choices I’ve made are beginning to take their toll. I’m beginning to think, now that I’ve made this choice, that I won’t be myself anymore. I won’t be a human. And does that make me a monster?

I should have known the power to stop monsters wouldn’t be something that came for free. When I read the words and I felt the hollowness inside me, I thought maybe that could help fill it. That revenge would become the food my body would need. The price just made the space bigger. It feels like I’ll be a husk soon, a kind of fossil walking around with my face and my eyes.

Chantel came as well. We talked. She said sorry. I guess I did too. But as much as I want to take comfort in her and tell her everything, part of me knows I can’t trust her. I can’t trust any of them anymore. I’ll need them, so I have to play the part, be the good friend and pretend to smile and care, but the truth is that part of me died with my mom. As soon as Vincent plunged the blade into her body, that girl was doomed to wither and die.

Monsters can’t be trusted. No one can, not really. Not even me.

Listen