My name is Nikki

September 13th
I never meant for anyone to hate me. I never meant for anyone to get into trouble. But it happened. She hates me. She got into trouble. And she’s not going to get out of it.


September 15th

My mother hadn’t always beaten on me. In fact, she used to be the mother you’ve always wanted. The kind of mother that took you shopping, always baked treats for your friends, and made your birthday extra special even when she barely had any money at all. When she was in high school, she was the typical cheerleader-Blonde, thin, and had the quarterback boyfriend. To top that off, she was also the prom queen. She had the perfect life-until she got pregnant-on prom night-in a hotel room-with me. After finding out that she was going to have a baby, my mother wasn’t thrilled, but she wasn’t reluctant either. In fact, after a few weeks, she became enthusiastic about having me. She went shopping for baby clothes, got a stroller, and a crib just for me. 12 months later when I was born, we had a family--mother worked at the Wegmans about 10 blocks down and my father worked at a motors shop. We had our own little house, our own car, and life was all too perfect.
I remember. Because Daddy told me this story. Over and over and over. Until he left.
Then we all fell.
Mother became frantic about getting enough money for us to live off of. She wouldn’t go to work, so she was fired. She wouldn’t eat anything, which made her lose weight like crazy. To calm her nerves she began to smoke. But it wasn’t enough for her. So when she picked up a beer bottle at the bar about 3 months later, she never put it down. She’d always come home drunk and collapse on the floor, snoring. By then I’d learned to take care off myself. I did my homework on my own, cooked all the meals, and cleaned up all of my mother’s foul messes. I don’t even know where I went wrong. But I did, and I’ve been paying for it ever since I was 10 years old. And it’s never stopped.

Never.

September 18th
“You piece of shit!!!”
That’s usually how my mother’s rant begins. She always comes home angry because of her misfortunes of having to wipe off tables and mop the dirty floors at Burger King. And when she remember that we live in a trailer park with about 120 more people like us, she becomes even angrier. Calling me a “piece of shit” is only the beginning.
“Why do I even feed you or clothe you or send you to that goddamn school?! You’re too stupid to even learn one goddamn thing, you piece of shit!!!”
I watched my mother as she angrily stomped over to the refrigerator. My eyes became wider as I saw her lift a baseball bat and look directly at me.
I understood her gesture. Perfectly.
I began to run, screaming out, “Mama, don’t! Mama, please!! Don’t!! Mama! MAMA!!”
As I screamed the last word, I felt the bat connect with my shoulders. I cried out again and again as the bat found new places on my body to bruise, new places to harm.
“Mama, please stop!!!! I beg you, mama! Mama stop!”
I felt the bat’s wrath die down, but my mother’s wasn’t. She grabbed a handful of my long dark brown hair and yanked me dangerously backwards. Pain shot through my scalp as my mother jerked me towards the closet. She furiously shoved me into the undersized closet. But when she closed the closet door and locked it I felt petrified. It was as if the closet walls were closing in on me and it seemed as though the floor under me was growing smaller and smaller until my bottom was the only thing able to fit onto it. I hoist myself up so my feet were pushing against the closet door, screaming and crying for my mother to let me out. But as I continued to scream and tears rolled down my cheeks consistently, the noise outside of the closet was deathly quiet. I could hear no voices, I could hear no footsteps. The fight had poured out of me. As my eyelids fluttered closed and my legs gave way, I said a silent prayer. A prayer for hope, a prayer for survival, a prayer for love.


September 19th

As I opened my eyes the next morning, I felt the same feeling of discomfort that I felt last night. The walls were coming toward me and the floor was making me fall through once again. I curled my hands into fists and pounded on the closet door, screaming, “Help me, help me! Let me out!!”
I shut my eyes tight and screamed and screamed. Suddenly, I felt a whoosh of air against my tearstained cheeks, and I felt my fists hitting the air. Slowly, I opened my eyes and saw my mother standing there in her bathrobe, glaring at me. I tried to back away from her as much as I could, but it was no use. Her long arm snaked out and grabbed my upper arm in an iron grip, making me shout out in pain.
“Get out of the fuckin’ closet, ya little bitch,” she shouted. She dragged me by my arm out of the closet. When she saw that I wasn’t standing, she stopped pulling and began to kick me in the ribs. I tried to roll away from her, but she was too quick. I heard a crack as her foot hit my ribs once more. I begged for her to stop, but her foot just came harder and harder on my body. Tears choked my throat as pain shot throughout me. I curled up into a ball so she could hit my ribs no more. Finally she stopped, but I continued to cry on the dirty floor.
“Get your ass off of the goddamn floor, you cockroach,” she puffed. I got up slowly, my eyes glued to the floor. My ribs killed and tears continued to silently trickle down my cheeks as I stood there.
“Now,” she continued. “You have thirty goddamn seconds to get your sorry ass out of the house before I beat the shit out of you again.”
I looked up.
“Go!” she shouted.
I limped out the door towards school holding my ribs the whole time.


September 22nd

“Nikki Beaumont, would you care to explain to me the reason why you’re late to school for the 5th time this semester?” Dr. Williams asked me.
I was standing in front of Dr. Williams, the principle of Richmond High, after being late to school. Again.
I looked down at the worn out sneakers I had grabbed before limping all the way to school.
“Nikki, I asked you a question!” he bellowed.
“I….uh…overslept,” I murmured, still staring at my sneakers.
“Ms. Beaumont, I’m unable to hear you while you are looking down,” Dr. Williams said.
“I overslept,” I said a little louder, but still looking at my shoes.
“You overslept?!?!” he exclaimed.
I nodded.
I heard him breathing in and out as though he was trying not to explode.
“Ok,” he finally said.
I looked up.
He was running his fingers through his dark beard, as though he was trying to figure out how to deal with me.
I jumped when he pointed at me and said, “I will give you a slip on this oversleeping business. But if you’re late to school one more time on account of “oversleeping”, I won’t be so generous. Understood?”
I nodded my head vigorously before limping out of his office and down the hall to my first class.





September 24th
Walking home after a grueling day, I groaned. I was exhausted, and my ribs were aching so bad that it felt as though a ton of elephants had run over me. I slowed my walking and collapsed to the ground holding my aching ribs.
“Someone, please help me,” I whispered, almost to myself. I tried saying it again and again, louder and louder, until I was finally screaming for help. Suddenly, a large shadow fell over me.
“Hey kid, are you ok?” a deep voice asked me.
I didn’t answer, just continued screaming for help. The pain in my ribs had grown, which made me break down into tears. I felt someone lift me, and I screamed as more pain shot through my ribs.
“It’s alright kid,” the deep voice soothingly said. “You’re going to be ok.”
“Put me down,” I said between gulps of air.
“It’s ok, little girl. I’m going to help you.”
I wanted to fight, to tell him no, that I’ll be alright. But exhaustion overcame me and I fell into a deep sleep.


The next thing I knew, I found myself lying on a hospital bed. I looked around the room, taking it all in. The rooms were pale pink and the floor was concrete. I looked out into the pitch black night. The stars were twinkling and a breeze was coming through the opened window. I tried to sit up, but felt the reduced pain. I looked down at my chest and saw the bandage that was wrapped around it.
“So, you’re finally up,” I heard a voice say.
I looked at the door and saw a young man standing there with a clipboard. He had dirty blonde hair that was cut clean away from his face and was wearing a white lab coat.
“WH-who are you?” I stuttered.
“I’m Dr. Pepper. I wrapped your ribs for you.”
“Oh,” I said.
Dr. Pepper looked down at his clipboard and said, “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“Sure. Uh, I guess,” I mumbled.
He came over and sat at the edge of my bed, looking at me with deep brown eyes.
“First of all,” he began. “What is your name?” he asked.
“Nikki Beaumont,” I answered.
“When were you born?”
“August 3rd.”
“How old are you?”
“Twelve.”
And so it went on for about a half an hour. Dr. Pepper asked many questions about me, including my family, my school, and where I live.
“How did you become injured?” he asked.
“Uh…….um….” I mumbled.
Dr. Pepper looked up from his clipboard. His dark brown eyes regarded me with question.
“Nikki?”
“I, uh, fell,” I lied quickly.
Dr. Pepper scrunched up his eyebrows with confusion. “You fell?”
“Uh…I fell because…because I was in a fight.” I said.
Dr. Pepper looked suspiciously at me. “You were in a fight?” he asked.
“Yea. I fell in the fight and hurt my ribs,” I lied again.
Dr. Pepper crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. “You fell. In a fight,” he said slowly.
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me what caused this fight?” Dr. Pepper asked.
I shrugged my shoulders.
“So you were in a fight that cracked 3 of your ribs, and yet, you don’t even know what caused it?” Dr. Pepper said.
I just shrugged my shoulders again.
“Ok, well can you describe this fight?” he asked.
I propped myself against the pillows and relaxed.
“Well,” I started. “At first I was winning. The kid was pretty big; about 2 feet taller than I. And I punched her,” I said, squinting my eyes, pretending to be remembering it. “And then suddenly she had knocked me down. I heard all of the kids chanting “fight, fight, fight!” and then it was all black.”
I looked back at the Dr. “That’s all I can remember,” I said.
Dr. Pepper tapped his pen against his clipboard. “So, let me get this straight,” he said. “You were in a fight with a bigger girl and you were winning at first and then suddenly you got punched and all was black?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Just one question,” he said.
“Shoot,” I said.
“Where, in the midst of all this fighting, did 3 of your ribs become cracked?” Dr. Pepper asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Well, um…….” I mumbled.
Dr. Pepper cut me off.
“You know what,” he said. “I think that you need some rest. I asked you a lot of questions tonight.”
I began to settle back into the pillows, but Dr. Pepper stopped me with an amused look.
“What?” I asked.
I saw him take out a can and toss it to me. When I looked down, I saw a Dr. Pepper staring up at me.
I looked up and grinned but he had already left.


September 24th

When I awoke the next morning, I saw the sun shining through the windows onto the pale pink walls of my hospital walls. I heard someone come into the room and looked toward the door.
“Good morning,” a nice looking nurse said.
Her mane of red hair was pulled back with a blue hair band that matched her sparkling eyes and freshly pressed uniform. Her smile was so bright and cheery that I felt like smiling too. She placed the tray she was holding down and came over to my bed and helped me sit up.
“How’re you feeling t’day, partner?” she asked with a southern accent.
“I’m ok,” I answered in a sleepy voice.
I reached out to grab the tray of breakfast, but I stopped when I saw the nurse looking at my shoulders. I quickly fell back into my nest of blankets and tried to smile.
“What happened to yer shoulders?” she asked me.
“Nothing,” I answered shortly.
The nurse looked down at my arms and lightly poked all of my bruises. “Ye got some of them here, too,” she said suspiciously.
I shrugged my shoulders and looked down at my hands.
“Well, here’s the old-fashioned hospital food,” the nurse said, pointing at the tray.
Then she winked. “Ma’ name’s Sunny,” she said. “If ye need anythin’ just ask fer me, alright?” she asked.
I nodded.
She glanced at my tray again. “Alrighty then,” she said after a moment. “I’ll be off.”
“Sunny?” I called before she got to the door.
She turned around. “Yes?”
I pointed at myself. “My name’s Nikki,” I said.
She smiled again. “Nice ta meet ya, Nikki,” she said before turning and walking out the door.



September 27th

She came. She came to get me. She came to take me away from Dr. Pepper and Sunny. And I couldn’t believe it. I’m to be leaving tomorrow to go back and live with my mother.
I heard a knock at the door. “Come in,” I said drowsily.
In walked Sunny holding something behind her back.
“I got ye somethin’,” She said, handing me a flat present wrapped in green wrapping paper.
I looked down at the present and then back up at Sunny.
“Go on, open it,” she prodded.
I ripped the paper off gently, savoring the moment. Inside of the package was a large black leather bound book with a latch around it to keep it closed.
“Um,” I said looking down at the book. “What is it?” I asked.
Sunny pointed to the book. “Open it,” she said.
I undid the latch and gasped. Inside it wasn’t a book. It was a diary, with crisp golden pages that seemed to glow as much as Sunny’s smile does.
I looked up at Sunny with tears in my eyes. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever gotten me,” I said.
Sunny looked at me confused. “Don’t yer mama get ye nice stuff?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“It’s been nice talkin’ to ye, Nikki,” Sunny said.
I nodded but said nothing as the tears choked my throat.
She pointed at me. “And fer health’s sake, I don’t want te see yer face in here again, alright?” She asked jokingly.
I laughed and nodded as she put her arms around me. I put my head on her shoulder as she rocked us back and forth, back and forth, until drowsiness overcame me.

September 29th

When I walked through the door, the first thing I heard her ask was, “You had to get the police involved, didn’t you, you little shit?!”
I didn’t answer. She punched me in the eye and I fell against the kitchen counter.
”Answer me, you little brat!!!!” she screamed.
“What are you talking about?” I asked quietly, nursing my left eye.
She hit me again, this time in the mouth. “You know what the fuck I’m talking about!! Don’t pretend like you don’t!”
“I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, raising up my hands as though I were surrendering.
She raised her hand to hit me again, but hit the counter when I moved.
“Come back here, you piece of shit!” she screamed.
I was raising around the little trailer, trying to dodge her. I had succeeded in not getting hit by her again until she took out a knife.
“Mama, don’t do it,” I whispered to her.
She chuckled. “I can do whatever I want,” she said.
“Mama,” I begged.
She was approaching me with the knife. Coming closer and closer.
“It’ll be better for you this way. You want to know why, Nikki?” she asked me.
My hands were shaking, but hers were as still as night.
“Do you want to hear the real truth, Nikki?”
I backed into a wall as she came nearer.
“Nobody wants you. Nobody needs you. Nobody loves you. You’re as unwanted as the plague itself. And in the end, the plague itself must die.”
“Please don’t, mama,” I begged her silently.
But it was already too late. She lunged forward.
Pain shot through my chest.
I opened my mouth to scream.
But nothing came out.
The blackness swallowed me.
But the pain was no longer there.



October 1st

I heard voices.
They were all around me.
I heard them all.
Some were arguing.
Some were shouting.
But most were talking to me.
I tried to answer.
But the blackness had swallowed me again.


October 4th

“Ok, we’re bringing this one to ER right now!”
“She’s got a stab wound to the chest!”
“Set her up on type AB blood!”

I opened my eyes. People were standing all around me, staring down at me. Pushing, prodding, poking.
I tried to scream for them to stop, but it was stuck in my throat. I tried to cough it out, but all that came was blood.
Blood.
Blood.
It was everywhere.
Was it mine?
Was it hers?
Was it someone else’s?

“Lift her now!” someone shouted.
“Help me,” I whispered to the nearest nurse.
She looked at my sympathetically and took my hand. “You’re going to be all right, Nikki,” she said carefully.
Nikki.
She had called me Nikki.
I wanted to ask her how she knew my name, but as quickly as she had come, she was gone.
And so was I.


October 7th

“Nikki? Nikki? Nikki, wake up,” I heard a gentle voice say.
I lifted my heavy eyelids to see Sunny staring back at me, a big smile one her face.
“Sunny,” I croaked.
She took my hand. “I thought I told you to stay away from here,” she said jokingly.
But I didn’t laugh.
I couldn’t laugh.
It hurt to much to do much of anything except breath, which is hard enough with someone trying to kill you.
I gasped. It all had come back to me.
She had pulled a knife on me.
She had stabbed me.
She had tried to kill me.
I felt the pain all over again. I placed my hand where I’d been stabbed, which was wrapped in a bandage.
I let go of Sunny’s hand.
“Nikki, somebody would like to talk to ye,” Sunny said.
I looked toward the door. Standing there was a policeman, holding a pad and paper.
In full uniform.
Down to the last gun.
“Hello, Nikki,” the policeman said politely.
His green eyes stared down at me and his black mustache wiggled when he talked.
He sat on the edge of my bed. “I’m Officer Bentley. I was wondering if I could talk to you for a few moments,” he asked me.
I shook my head and hid in the pillows.
“Nikki!” Sunny exclaimed.
The officer laughed. “It’s all right. She must be tired and in a lot of pain right now.”
He rose off of my bed. “I’ll talk to her later,” he said to Sunny.
Sunny nodded her red head. “That would be best,” she said in her southern drawl.
But what they don’t know is that I won’t talk.
Not now.
Not then.
Not ever again.



October 11th

Life can be remarkable.
Life can be interesting.
And life can be silent.
The life I lead is a silent one.


October 13th

Visitors are outstanding things. When I was 5 and I was in the hospital for a high fever, I remember all of the people who had come to visit me. My aunt, my father…….even my mother came. I remember her visit, because she had brought me a pink rabbit with the words “get well soon” on the stomach.
But my visitor bears no gift.
He has no balloons.
All he brings is a pad and pen.
“Hey there, Nikki,” Officer Bentley said
I nodded in his direction but continued to stare out the window, watching the leaves on the large trees turn color.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked.
I didn’t answer because I don’t know how to.
Officer Bentley cleared his throat and tapped the pen against the pad.
“Nikki, I’m gonna need to talk to you about your, uh….incident with your mother,” he said.
I glanced over at him but said nothing.
“Nikki, do you remember how it started?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“Ok……um, did your mother pull the knife on you, or did you pull it on her?”
I shrugged again.
He leaned forward, frowning.
“Nikki, do you remember anything that happened??” he asked.
I shrugged.
He sighed and shoved his chubby fingers through his mustache.
“Ok,” he sighed, getting up. “Thank you for your time.”
I didn’t even glance in his direction as he left my room. A few minutes later, Sunny entered the room, a look of concern on her face.
She put her hand on my cheek and stroked it. I pulled away.
“Are you feeling ok?” she asked me.
I just shrugged.
“Officer Bentley said that ye didn’t answer any of his questions,” she said. “Ye didn’t even say a “good afternoon” to him, Nikki.”
I shrugged.
She sighed. “Nikki, he’s only asking these questions for your safety. To be quite frank with ye, you’re in a bit of a tangle now, but everythin’ will be alright.”
“I promise you, Nikki,” she added.
I scrunched up my eyebrows in confusion. “A tangle? What tangle?” I wanted to ask her.
I started to open my mouth to say these words, but quickly closed my mouth. I vowed to never speak again, and that’s exactly what I’ll do.


October 16th

They’re everywhere-policemen, news workers, cameramen. They’re always in my room, trying to talk to me. But I never talk. Not once. Not a mumble, not a hum. Not even a syllable.
But they talk to me.
Actually, they talk at me. They’re yelling questions, comments. But I can’t answer them. I won’t answer them.
I’m not expected to.


October 16th
Later

But I still have questions.

“Have you seen the headline today, Nikki?” Sunny asked me.
We were sitting in the hospital lounge, me, in a hospital gown, and Sunny, in her regular attire.
I shook my head.
She handed me the newspaper.
I gasped.
“Mother sent to prison for abuse of daughter” read the headline.
I saw my mother, looking small yet strong, fragile yet powerful, in handcuffs, standing in front of a judge, glowering at him. She looked so unperturbed that she was sent to prison. Because she hurt me. Because she almost killed me. In fact, she looks so satisfied with herself that I could almost cry. I threw the newspaper down and ran back to my room. To the closed walls of my bedroom. The place where I felt safe.


October 17th

Before my mother drank, we played a lot of fun games together. But my favorite game of all was Hide n’ Seek. We played it all the time. I loved to hide in all those small places where my mother could never fit or find me. And I always won. Wherever I hid, she could never find me. But my life has now turned into a game of Hide n’ Seek. Except she can’t get to me. I’m in the safe zone. Behind the walls of the hospital, with all the doctors and nurses, I’m safe. It’s like I have a whole new life here. I have a new family. But if I take one step outside the hospital walls, she’ll find me. She’ll find me and take me away.


October 19th

Yet another visit from Officer Bentley. But this time, he’s brought a friend.
“Hello Nikki. I’m Dr. Philips,” the visitor said. He had grey hair that matched his eyes and was holding a brown shiny briefcase like I’ve never seen before.
Officer Bentley gestured toward Dr. Philips. “Dr. Philips here has come to…um, well, examine you. It’ll just be some medical testing, nothing much.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn’t believe him. There was something suspicious about the way he was handling his gun at his side that made me feel instantly uncomfortable.
Dr. Philips sat down at a chair at the side of my bed.
“So. How old are you now, Nikki?” Dr. Philips asked me.
I didn’t answer.
Come on now, it’s alright. You don’t have to be shy,” he said soothingly.
I still didn’t answer him.
That’s the way it went one for the next 3 hours. He’d ask me a question and I’d either sit there or just shrug my shoulders as if I didn’t care.
At the end of the session, Dr. Philips stood up and shook my hand.
“It’s been a pleasure, uh, sitting here with you, Nikki. I hope we meet again,” he said, swinging his briefcase as he spoke.
I nodded to him but still said nothing. He cleared his throat and left.
That was very strange.


October 21st

“Hey there, Nikki,” a loud voice boomed.
I opened my eyes, sat up on my elbows, and smiled as Dr. Pepper entered the room.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“Is that your answer for everything now?” he asked in an annoyed voice.
I shrugged again.
He laughed. “Well, you are a clever one, Nikki,” he said.
He stood there awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot.
Then he cleared his throat.
“I’ve got some good news for you, Nikki,” he said, approaching me.
I looked at him curiously. Good news? Me?
He sat at the edge of my bed and took my hand. “You’re going to be moved into a new home,” he said with false cheeriness.
Where? I thought.
As if he was reading my mind, Dr. Pepper said, “You’ll be moved to a home for people with…um, special needs.”
He held up his hand like a stop sign. “Don’t you worry though, Nikki. It’ll only be for a little while, until you can be fully examined.”
I rolled my eyes and slumped back into the pillows and tried to sleep. But sleep didn’t come.


October 25th

Officer Bentley came. He came with his gun and his handcuffs to take me away from my temporary home. The only place I’ve felt remotely safe. The only place that I’ve trusted. But now I can’t. Because as Officer Bentley took my clammy hand in his, I turned around and silently begged Sunny to help me. To save me. But she just hugs me tightly for a few moments before whispering “God will save ye” in my ear. I try Dr. Pepper, but he just turns away, hiding his tears.
“Come now, Nikki,” Officer Bentley said.
I shoot one more pathetic face at Sunny and turn around and walk as she bursts into tears.
As I walk toward Officer Bentley’s police car, I want to believe Sunny. I really do. But she’s wrong. God won’t save me. Because if he wanted to save me, he would’ve already done it.
But he didn’t.
And I’m paying for it.
With my life.



November 5th

How does one describe living in hell? Most people would say that you can’t describe living in hell because all of the people who’ve gone to hell don’t come back and give us the report. But that’s wrong. Because I live in hell. And there’s only one word to describe it: Hell.



November 5th

12 days. 12 days since I’ve learned the real meaning of life in Hell. There’s another thing I’ve learned too.
Dr. Pepper is a liar.
He said that “I’m going somewhere for people with special needs.”
But that’s a lie.
Hell isn’t a place for people with special needs.
It’s a place for crazy people. Mental patients. Psychos.



November 13th

I thought that I was different. I thought that I could prove to the doctors that I’m not mental.
But I was wrong.
They treat me just like they do everyone else.
I am a mental patient.
I’m treated like all the rest.
I talk to a psychiatrist everyday.
It’s supposed to help with my “problems.”
But it doesn’t.
Because I’m not crazy.
I’m just not loved.



November 19th

The days are the same.
It cannot be changed.
Because I am thought a psycho.
I’m injected with medicine everyday.
Everyday they jump on me with a needle in their hand.
But I don’t need it.
I try to scream for them to stop.
But I can’t.
I don’t talk.
They continue.
And it cannot be helped.



November 21st

“Hallo Nikki.”
I looked at the bunk across to mine. Sitting there was a Kyle, a boy no older than 14, with long straggly blond hair and piercing blue eyes staring back at me, a teasing smile playing about his lips. I tried to ignore him, but he kept pestering me.
“Hallo?” he said, coming over to my bunk and waving his lean hand in front of my face.
I sat up, glaring at me.
He grinned.
“Hallo,” he said again.
I just kept glaring.
He sat down on my bunk, making me sit up.
“Do you wanna play a game with me?” he asked, the smile still pasted on his face.
“What harm will it do?” I think. “At least it’ll make him shut up.”
I hesitated, and then nodded slowly.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered.
I glared warningly at him but closed my eyes.
For a few seconds everything was silent and unmoving. But then I felt his hands pick up mine, and his breath on my face as he pressed his lips against mine. They felt warm and friendly and I sighed and leaned into it.
He broke it off. “That was fun,” he said. He released my hands and slinked over to his bunk. I looked over at him once more and he winked.
I sighed again and closed my eyes.

November 23rd

Some people may say that Hell isn’t as bad as everyone says it is.
But that’s a lie.
Because it really is as bad as everyone says it is.
Maybe even worse.
I thought maybe it had changed.
Maybe it would be better than I really thought it was.
But I was wrong.
I gave in to the monster, and now I’m drowning in a fiery pit in Hades.
I can feel the fire slowly consuming me, making me drown in its pain. I try to push it away, but it keeps coming and coming, never giving up. I try to swim away from it, looking left and right, but it was all over, and there was no escaping. I try to run, I try to breathe, I try to survive it. But it was too heavy, too strong, too hard to fight. And I had to give in. I had to give up. I had to give away all that I had, all that I had kept, all that was mine. I had given it away to a monster. And it was never going to come back.