Twitch
Former Resident
Insanity At Its best
Posts: 42
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Post by Twitch on Jul 1, 2006 17:30:02 GMT -5
Hidden under a pillow is but a rather simple looking book. The cover is black, and made of leather as is the back of it. The pages are tipped in silver, giving it a special shine. Written on the inside and on the first page in rather neat handwriting are the words 'Celia's Diary', the coloring of them black. The pages are of a cream color, black lines each about half an inch or less spaced on each page. At the back is the name Celia once again, though the handwriting seems a slight bit messier and is instead in red.
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Twitch
Former Resident
Insanity At Its best
Posts: 42
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Post by Twitch on Jul 1, 2006 17:35:36 GMT -5
I've decided to create myself a diary... at least that's why I think this is called. A diary, from what I've read, is something you can write your personal thoughts in and everything else. It's something like a person. I think this might be good for me considering I don't talk much to the residents. I don't quite know how to begin, but I suppose I'll start with my name. It's Celia. I have no last name, and if I do, I don't know it. I suppose I should start with my age next. From what I remember back at the lab, as I hear people call them, I'm five years old, but apparently I look around sixteen. That is, from what I remember hearing. I haven't met many people here, though I haven't actually been in the House for that long, about a week.
I don't sleep, it's impossible for me, but I think I come close to it because I had another "vision" or flashback as I've read. It was that same girl, the one who's voice I hear all the time. She was screaming, shouting, and even begging. There was a man, another man, and a woman there. The man was wearing a mask, and he was looming over her. The woman was just to his side and she looked to be smiling. And the other man was to the one wearing the mask's side. He was muttering things. The screaming grew worse, and there looked to be like the girl's vision was splotching in red. But then there was silence, or I suppose in this case the screaming stopped. Seeing that, or is it remembering that, made something swell up. I'm not certain what it was, though I'm not going to dwell on it.
I have a few questions I'd like to ask, though I don't want to ask anyone. You're an inanimate, I read in this book called a dictionary inanimate meant not living, object so I'll ask you despite I won't get answers. I was made from other people's body parts, nothing is mine. My arms are not mine, they belonged to someone else. And because of this, am I truely alive, or just existing? I read somewhere that people are born with souls, but I wasn't born, I was created so does this mean I don't have a soul? There are these things called emotions, feelings. I don't have them, but I have a brain, and that is what should allow me to feel emotions, right? Then why don't I?
I'm done asking questions now I guess... I'll just complain? I won't do it in front of others, I read somewhere that people don't like it. I can hardly feel things, just very faintly. I think this is something I shouldn't like. But maybe this is good? Because if I can't feel, I can't feel this thing called "pain" that so many people seem to hate. I can't taste anything, and I don't really need to eat. I think I wouldn't mind knowing what this thing called candy tastes like. I think if I had emotions I wouldn't like it when my left eye looses its vision. If I tilt my head too far forward or too far back, my vision darkens and sometimes it turns black completely until I straighten my head again.
I suppose this is all I have to say for now. I think I should say "good bye".
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