Claire’s writing is jagged and messy. It’s possible she’s had a drink to calm her nerves, but all it would have done is made her even more illegible.
April 25 – technically 26
I keep telling myself it wasn’t him. It was a memory. But Jesus fuck, it was so goddamn real.
Dani thought I should sleep but I can’t sleep. After this cigarette, I’ll have chained a whole pack and then I’m out. I could run to the 7/11 but…I can’t.
They’ve been in my goddamn –home-. People I trust, people I socialize with. I’m scared to even write it down because I told King Drake I’d report to him first. I don’t think I could write it down if I wanted to anyway. This is bad, this is sick, this is….
Dani is the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I don’t think I’d still be surviving without her. She got me out of the Hedge and back home and she was so sweet she even pulled the car over every time I had to puke. Which, by the way? Looks both disgusting and fascinating as a puddle of Froot Loops and Kraft Dinner against pavement.
Even Nutmeg’s not fucking around with me tonight. He knows that I’m…off. He came to cuddle in the chair after Dani went to bed, like it was his turn to console me. If cats could be farmed for glamour, I’d be set. But even after the harvest this afternoon, I’m feeling spent.
I traded a kiss for the answer. You know the one. That makes me even sicker – the idea that someone might buy that from him. That someone would –need- my memory and pay something just as valuable to them. It’s funny but I can’t even entirely recall it. I’ve tried and it’s just…fuzz that’s right out of reach. But I know it should be there, and I know it was awful, and I know that giving it up means someone else is going to have that power over me.
I fucking hate goblins.
I’m going to see the King tomorrow to tell him what I know. And if he wants me to go back into that Hedge then he’s going to need another volunteer. My mental state can’t handle finding out any more about this.