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Happiness & the Fish

I'm sorry,

I can't lie.

How I wasted my life looking through jaded eyes.

Is it anywhere near funny,

How we learned, realized, mistook the truth.

Our thoughts focused on having it all.

When we had nothing.

I'm unimpressed.

We walk along the path,

Our feet meeting the ground in a friendly embrace.

Shorter, shorter, the embraces become.

Quicker pace.

Take a breather.

Embrace longer.

Slow down,

Sit down,

Take a breather.

We violate violently,

Praying to lose this pretending.

Put your thoughts somewhere else,

It's easier, sleazier, how we just run away.

Should we just give up?

She sits alone in the room,

Carved out by lights.

Glares, stares, it's not fair.

What they'd give,

To understand.

He waits in a different world.

Alone and unwanted.

So little air, he can hardly bear this unwitting flare, flair.

What'd he give,

To have someone else's world.

Our world's failing and flailing,

Like a fish out of water.

We're scared and hiding,

Waiting and biding our time.

It's easier this way.

We're bared and colliding,

Wasting and gliding along.

We're needier this way.

Happiness is not a fish you can catch,

Wretched thoughts,

Bounce around.

Over here!


Sometimes things don't think,

And our mind's don't make sense.

And we switch the words for effect.

We look for Hope and it's adjoining friends.

We're scared.

We wait, we want, we weren't.

I put my heart on the line,

Rejection, regret, response at every corner.

But my faults are my own,

And I don't regret.

Because I know we're worth more than this.

Moods change,

Feelings change,

Thoughts swing,

But memories always sing.

Happiness may not be a fish you can catch,

But they sell it at Wal-mart.

It's right next to the real friends.

You may not have noticed it.


Not those friends,

Just fool's gold.

See there,

At the very top.

A little hidden from sight.

Buy it,

Have it,

For dinner,

A snack,

A smile.

Like a full stomach,

The warmth overflows.

Get a friend while you're at the top shelf.

It's easier than trying to climb back up.

Happiness is not a fish you can catch.

But in our case,

Who needs fish?


missing UM

Just feeling very sad about it all. I used to be so superbly addicted, I was here like, every day. And I was going through my comments and I'm thinking "Wow, I made some excellent friends." And now I never am on, and hardly talk to people when I am on. I just miss the family thing that was going on here. I've no idea what made me suddenly just stop coming, but it's no fun.

I'm trying to come back though. If that counts. :D


Where are you now?

What do I have to do God?

What do I have to do to make you stop?

My friends, you let them hurt.

My family, you let them hurt.

My neighbors, you let them hurt.

This, God, this is why people choose not to believe in you.

What kind of God would do that?

I know you're trying to "make them stronger in the end."

Well guess what.

We're not at the end yet.

And til we get there,

We're hurting.

I need something to believe in.

Can you be it?

I want you to be.

I'd love to think that there's someone up there caring.

But... It's not always so easy.

So gimme a sign God.

Send something my way.

Send something to tell me what I can do.

I want to stop their hurting.

God, please.

You said you'd always be with me.

Where are you now?


Russia Rap

Conditions were crazy,

And the people lazy.

Westernization from Peter and Catherine failed,

Thus throwing Russia off the trail.

They needed a new leader to hail.

Cue Alexander,

The first of his kind.

The only problem with him,

Y'all know, he had a weak mind.

Later he oppressed

(He be hatin').

Because of Napoleon he obsessed

(There goes emancipation).

Alex died,

Leaving the Decembrist Revolt,

And like lightning,

There was a jolt.

In comes Nicholas I,

A cruel type of man.

He ruled his people

With the back of his hand.

The people say "Yo Nick, you be trippin'"

And he's all "I’m sick of your lip" and

Began to ban books

Locked up people

Claimed they had crazy looks.

To Siberia, 150,000 were exiled,

Left to starve, Into The Wild.

Nick cheered for the three pillars

Nationalism, Orthodoxy, and Autocracy.

He thought liberal ideas were killers,

Things we take for granted like democracy.

Next in the group

We have Alex Two

A reforming, conforming, storm of a dude.

Trying to make everyone happy would not take this czar very far.

Peasants had freedom, but really wanted land.

Liberals wanted constitution, and to elect the legislature in command.

Radicals said loud and clear "It's revolutionary changes we demand!"

And so, poor czar, our Alex man,

Did only what he knew he can.

Reform turned to repression,

And with repression came question,

And the question turned into sessions.

Radicals went to peasants,

Hoping to inspire,

All of their ideas though,

Were thrown into the fire.

Peasants hardly understood,

And sometimes called the cops.

So radicals turned to terrorism.

And peasants went back to crops.

"The People's Will",

A revolutionary league,

Spread word by bombs,

Ruining all sense of calm.

With Alex II assassinated,

His son now took the reign.

And just as history seems to go,

He also took his name.

Alexander III,

Not very original we now know,

Used ideas of Nick I,

People to Siberia to die,

Restored strict censorship,

You know all the rest.

Nick relied on Constantine Pobedonostsev,

The adviser and tutor he trusted best.

Persecuted like crazy,

To be Russian was the only right way.

You couldn't be Polish, Ukrainian, or Armenian,

And there was only one method to pray.

Pogroms were encouraged,

Mobs that killed Jews,

So they had to move to the United States,

And to Russia they sent the news,

"There is no czar in America!"

While all this was happenin',

So came industrialization,

And economic development.

Our Alex III and his son Nick Two,

Tried to create a solid foundation,

What else could they do?

Russia was behind,

And the people fought.

So they had to do something,

The whole country was distraught.

But since people are so different,

This didn't appeal to all,

Government officials and business owners applauded,

While nobles and peasants thought that change would cause fall.

At the factory gates,

Were socialist remarks.

Behind each of these,

The revolutionary, legendary Karl Marx.

In 1904,

Russian-Japanese war.

A poor score left the Russians sore.

A peaceful march turned into Bloody Sunday.

Revolutions followed dutifully,

And a legislature was made.

Nothing could go into effect,

Without the Duma's okay.

Nick hired Peter Stolypin,

A prime minister for the land,

And at his hand,

Russia took a stand.

For peasants he reformed the plans for the land.

Assassinated in 1911,

The mood was not leavened.

And things stayed the same it seems,

Until 1917,

When here comes good old Lenin.



Feeling freaking psychotic tonight.

Like, take over the world psycho. Help me?

It'll be good times.

I like the world right now.

Acceptance is so healthy.

"I promise You, I'll be okay.

The truth is, I'm so messed up in all the right ways"

I just want acceptance.

It's the truth. And I'm getting there.

It starts with self-acceptance, no?

Must say "Yes, Rachel, I know who You are, faults and all, and I love You none the less."

Talking to oneself is underrated.

I feel like giving out prayers. I do a lot. So if You need one, feel free to ask for one. You don't have to tell me a single thing that's happening, but I will pray my heart out for You.

Dig by Incubus always gets me in this sort of mood. S'riously awesome song. Makes life pretty worth it. Music video's awesome too.

"If I turn into another, dig me up from under what is covering, a better part of me. Sing this soooong, Remind me that we'll always have each other, when everything else is gone."

I wish I could claim those. They're such good lyrics!

Here's the thing about me:

I have this issue, where I tend to laugh too loud.

I like mocking EVERYTHING. Nobody's safe.

I could try to figure out things forever, and never come close.

I miss the past sometimes, but God, I am so thankful for where I am.

I say the same things over and over again, because I don't know who listens.

I don't like people.

I laughed as I wrote the above thing.

I pretend to know things.

I make up fake statistics so that the things that I pretend to know are believed.

I love too much.

I hate too much.

I am too much.

I think I probably need to see a psychologist.

I'm not worrying about it too much.

I have a weakness, and it's easy to identify.

I'm shaking.

I want to cry and laugh and scream and dance!

I want You to know who I am.

Just, like, see me, for who I am.

That's all I ask.




Until Now

I never stopped to think.

Who was I to challenge?

Who was I to pretend?

Who am I to be?

I knew their was no guarantee of simplicity.

But how,



Why let me wonder what I can never know?

Until now

I trusted every word,

Smiled at every lie.



Until now

You were nothing more than a promise

There's a reason

But now,

Now we live for nothing,

Knowing there's no reason,

But what we have in this instant.

Most of us gave up a long time ago.


The foolish one,

Held on to beliefs.

But it only made it harder to let go.

You promised I would never have to let go!

You swore!

Some kind of person you are.

But guess what?

Second chances are for everyone.

So even though you screwed up

I'm gonna let you try again.

Give me a reason to believe.

No more blindly following.

Prove me.

But I'm loving you til then.


Thick and thin darling.

You promised to be here,

And even if you lied,

I keep my promises.

Maybe you'll learn.

There's still time.


Here's your chance.

Love Forever,



beginning of story

The flame dances wildly, forced side to side by The Ancient Spirits. A prayer lifts from the sallow lips of the hallowed faces, a reminder of our ancestral practices, practices condemned by our Brothers in Belief. The charred wood floats indolently above our methodically moving bodies. We dance, trees enveloping us, welcoming the suffocating smoke, smells inducing nostalgia.

The drums stops. Reality begins to take control once again. The we and our slowly turns back back into me and my. Alone in my own prison, I stare at the pictures on the wall, modern idols challenging me to try again. Just try, they say with their deathly glares. The ancestral practices have been forgotten for many years now. I try to grasp on the fleeting image of the past of my people. However, the gods will that my past stay there, and I must obey.


Romans 5:1-5

He looked at me

Slumped in the corner.

What's wrong ma'am?

And so I began:

Sometimes my thoughts betray me

Hate me.

Faith? Please.

Oh sure, God, you claim to be all.

Then why is it that all around us people have to fall?

Do we deserve to be screwed over?

Were we forgotten in your magnificent plan?

Ha, thanks God, you sure seem to be a mighty man.

If you're all that you say you are, why do I have to feel this way?

Do my feelings mean nothing to you?

Do you even care what I have to say?

Man, truth is, I've been feeling way down.

Sometimes I wonder if it's be better to just embrace the ground.

That's where I seem to spend all my days anyway.

How are we s'posed to believe when we feel like this?

A swing and miss.

Story of my life.

Why deal with all the strife?

I just want an answer!

Why try?

Let's see a sign.

I fall silent.

Two eyes, to mine they rise.

If you could've seen him...

He speaks so softly, I have to lean in.

Romans 5:1-5.

A bible verse?

That's all you got?

You could do better, I thought.

Just look, pleaded the stranger.

A book holds no danger.

My hand roams the familiar tome.


My eyes swiftly dance across the page.

The world has stopped for me.

A bible verse, but how could it be?

Promises lept out at me.

Promises of hope for eternity.


Suffering makes endurance, so we'll stand back up when we fall.

Endurance produces character, which gives us strength to get through all.

And finally, character produces hope, which never disappoints.

That's the point, he says.

That's our reason.

My speech fails me.

How do you thank someone who's saved your life.

Shown you the reason to deal with the strife.

Sometimes, your thoughts will still betray,


But you have to keep faith.

More importantly though,

Keep hope.


A taste of insanity

There was once a piece of paper that held tales of sorrow and regret, a forgotten friendship, and a hurting heart. To let the pain go, this page was torn apart, little bits still readable.

Last night I found this page. Or, the remnants.

Oh how fitting, that I should have to put together the puzzle of my life.

I tried to fit words with each other, to read it again.

And then it hit me.

I could never finish this puzzle. This puzzle was simply a game, taunting me at best.

Why could I not finish it?

Because, my friends, there was a missing piece.

I could have looked all night, but I would never, ever find that missing piece.

It was never there.

So symbolic of my own true nature.

And so, in my own pyromaniac ways, I carried myself downstairs. The time is now 1:30, and the pieces, some seperated, some crudely taped together are held in my hand.

I fill a bowl with water.

Grab the lighter.


And watch it all burn away.

Okay, not all. That wouldn't have been possible. But it burned. My God, it burned.

I tossed it into the bowl when I could no longer hold onto it, and the flames fell away to the water in a succumbing fashion.

I made sure to hold it under the water, in some hope of it washing the words away.

I then stuck it into the trash.

Just like that.

Past memories, you may try to haunt me. You can hide in the deepest crevasses of my mind. You can always be there, dancing across my sanity.

But I say simply this:

See you at the landfill.


I didn't get much sleep. I stayed up until 4:30 reading The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. If you have never read this, I beg thee, go read it now. It will hold you caressingly as it tells you a story, about a young girl named Liesel during World War II. The most interesting part? Why simply that it is written from the view of Death.

Markus Zusak, I want to marry you.



lack of java=the only thing that can keep me from UM chat. So I actually am taking a break. Not fun. Ah well. My computer got virused up and we had to get rid of java, and I can't download it again for a while. Which sucks. hmf. :[


When a person is asked what they most want out of a relationship or friendship, they will often respond with "I just want someone who loves me for who I am."

I am not one of these people.

You see, I would like someone who loves me for who I am. However, I want someone who also loves me for who I'm not. Someone who loves me for what I was, and what I could've been. For what I can, and what I will be.

I want someone who loves me just for the sake of loving me.

No strings attached.

Alright, I get it, I'm a hopeless romantic. But don't tell me that you don't feel the same way. It's a dream that most of us hold, but none of us share.

One word for this kind of love. Agape. Unconditional love.

Alright, I'll admit that agape usually refers to love from God. But that's just our human interpretation. It could be used in so many ways.

The band Sick Puppies sum it up in just two lines of their song All The Same:

"And I'll take you for who you are,

If you'll take me for everything."

Such an insignificant part of the song, but holding such meaning.

I get that you guys are sick of me preaching. I mean, why on earth would you listen to some kid, who just happens to be your friend on myspace?

That's just the point though. We don't listen. We nod along "Oh yes, I will definently show who I am more now, because so-and-so said it was a good idea." etc. bull etc.

I'm not pretending I'm perfect. I cannot emphasize that fact enough. If anybody has mistaken me for perfect, let me squash that rumor right now:

I fail. I screw up. I make mistakes. Sometimes

But I also try. I succeed. I do the right thing. Sometimes.

Pass on the agape folks. It's really not too hard. Take the time to share a smile. To complement someone. To thank a random worker for all their hard work. Heck, I did that, and I ended up making a friend (at least, I think we're friends :P). It may end up being one of the most fantastic experiences of your life. But you'll never know, if you don't try.

So I'm asking you as a friend, and as a human being. Start loving people for all that they are. Take them for everything. They just might begin to take you for everything.



Going to DC

Will be back on Friday. But I have something going on all weekend, so I probably won't be on for a week or so. Withdrawal!

Peace and Take Care to all.


Taking A Break

School's ending soon. So, I'm just gonna kind of take a break from UM. Just to deal with social and school issues, take a deep breath, figure everything out. I may occasionally check into chat, but I'm trying to wean myself away :P. So, thanks for everything, y'all take care.


Poem two voiceish

It's always been okay to cry,

To let the tears creep down your face.

To look tomorrow in the eye,

I can take you.

You can't be worse than yesterday.


Let's not go there,

You whisper, head down.

No. Let's.

I have nothing to say to you.

You have everything to say to me.

Out of my life.

Out of my mind.

But don't you see?

I'm still here.

You can't push me away.

Watch me.

I'm still watching.

Get out.


My words mean nothing to you.

Are you still there?



Leave me to cry.

To pick up my own pieces.

To find who I am.

I am.

Why must you torment me?

Rack my mind for an answer.

Leave me be.

I will always be here.

Tap-dancing across your fears.

Painting your memories.

I am here.

It was always okay to cry.

To let the tears creep down your face.

Now we look tomorrow in the eye.

For that was yesterday.

But today

I am...

I am Strong.



Tess was 8 years old. She lived in an apartment with her mom, her dad, and her little brother Andrew. One day, as she sat playing with her dolls, she heard her mom and dad speaking.

"You know we can't pay for the surgery Thomas! What are we going to do?" She heard her mother ask her father.

"I don't know. I just don't know. I guess we need a miracle," was his reply.

Tess knew that her brother was sick. Really sick. Tess also knew that she was the only one who could save him.

She went to her bed, and took out a glass jar filled with a bunch of change. She had been finding change and saving it in here all of her life. She counted the change, and then put it all back in the jar.

She took the jar under her arm, and walked down the stairs. She went quietly out of her house down to the nearest convenience store. The man behind the counter was talking to another person, and didn't notice the child standing next to him.

She took a dime from the jar and tapped it on the counter.

"Excuse me sir?" She asked.

"Sweetheart, can't you see I'm busy talking to someone? This is my brother. I haven't seen him for a really long time. I'll get to you in a minute," said the man as he turned back to his brother.

"Sir, please, if you don't help me, I'll never get to see my brother again. He's got something growing in his brain. I need your help."

The man and his brother looked at the little girl, and then at each other.

"I'd like to help you. What can I do?" Asked the cashier.

"I have all this money," started Tess. "I'd like to buy a miracle. I'm pretty sure I have enough. If I don't though, I can find some more."

"How much do you have?" Asked the man's brother, kneeling so that their eyes were level.

"$1.11," said the girl proudly. "I've been saving it up."

"Well," said the man with a twinkle in his eye, "that happens to be just enough. Could you take me to your home to meet your mommy and your daddy, so that I can see if I have the kind of miracle that they need?"

The man walked with the little girl to her apartment, where she introduced him to her parents. He introduced himself as a doctor, a neuro surgeon. After many discussions, and a long time, the surgery was completed. Free of charge.

Except for that $1.11, which was used to buy a miracle.

It was a great story for the sermon. Very beautiful.


My traits snapshot.

messy, irritable, depressed, fragile, worrying, emotionally sensitive, does not like to lead, phobic, weird, suspicious, low self control, paranoid, frequently second guesses self, dependent, unproductive, introverted, weak, strange, unassertive, submissive, familiar with the dark side of life, feels invisible, rash, vain, anti-authority, heart over mind, low self concept, disorganized, not good at saving money, avoidant, daydreamer, unadventurous.

Depressing... ah well. I don't think it was a very good quiz.



Alright. I have to get a rant out. If I don't, I might possibly go crazy.

I am sick of people and their downer attitudes.

I know. I'm a freaking hypocrite. Not gonna lie. I do not like most people, I have little faith in humanity, and I am often stuck with the dreaded label "emo". But when fact comes to it, I don't like people being negative. That's one of things that is at the top of my "Change about Rachel (me) list".

Everywhere I go I get this suffocation. You can't do that, we'll never be able to change that, that's wrong, can't fix that.

I'm sick of it. I want people to be positive for one moment. Give it a try folks.

It's certain that there's going to be some amount of negativity. The world isn't a perfect place. We can all relate. But the fact is, there are some amazing things about the world. Amazing people. A friend once told me, "Sure, there are lots of great people out there, they're just a little spread out. You gotta take the time to look."

I have looked. I have found the most amazing friends in the world. I know that they're never going to leave me, and that they'll always be there to support me.

I have those days. Those days when nothing's going right. Those days when I'm about to give up, and return to my couch with a carton of ice cream to watch stupid reruns. We all have those days.

You have to look yourself in the face. You have to say "[insert name here] we're going to make things good today. No arguing."

Smile. Nothing can change a day like smiling. Give others a smile. It may help them a whole lot more than you think.

I'm not asking you to be perfect. God knows I'm not. But I'm asking you to try and fix this. Try to look at things better.

It won't be easy. But I'm asking you as a friend. I'm asking you to not only do this to help yourself, but help me.

It's not one of those things where I sit back and try to watch you better yourselves. I'm part of this too. We're in this together. I can't do it without y'all. So please. Give it a try. Give a smile.




I had a mental breakdown today. Good news? Stress reliever. Bad news? It was in the middle of one of my after school classes. So I'm sitting their writing, and I know that if I don't get out of their fast, I'm going to scare my class. So I run out, and end up just sobbing in the bathroom for 2 minutes, wipe my eyes, and go back to class like nothing happened. The perfect picture of cool. Apparently not. After the class, my teacher pulls me aside, takes my two friends, and they all begin telling me how they're going to be there for me. It was like an intervention XD. Why breakdown? My brother got suspended. I don't especially want to go into details, but it's not the first time he's been suspended (not by a long shot), and now it got to me. So I'm sitting there crying while everybody's surrounding me asking what I need to feel better. It was awesome.

Anyway, that's my day. woo hoo.


gah. play practice

So I'm part of a musical at my church. Therefore, I have rehearsal today through Thursday, 5-9. -yawn- Oh well. it should end up being fun.


Another Story

Jay Gamelin: Now Dave, if you don’t mind, I’m going to press this button right here. All that it’s going to do is record our conversation. Is that alright with you?

David Scherer: I’m with you, man. I just want to get out of this crazy place. People like me don’t belong in a place like this.

[Jay turns on recorder]

Jay: [speaking into recorder] The day is the 28th of October and it is 3:54 PM. I sit here with sixteen-year-old David Scherer, accused of committing an act of arson on the 21st of October. [Turns to talk to Dave]. Dave, you have to understand why I’m talking to you. After the fire at Peet Road, was traced to you, we had to check what is causing you to start these fires.

Dave: Pfft, man, you don’t know nothing about anything. I don’t start fires. I can’t stand flames. Why would I want to set those?

Jay: That’s the question that we are trying to figure out. Let’s have a look at your records. Born on June 16th. Parents die two days before your 13th birthday. Taken to a foster home, belonging to a Mr. and Mrs. Sade. Ran away at 14, only to be found 5 days later. Taken to new foster home, where you are currently residing. The Smiths. I suppose we should start at the beginning. Your parent’s death must have had quite an impact on you. How did this tragic happening come around?

Dave: I don’t need your sympathy or your big words. It’s been 3 years. I learned to deal with it.

Jay: Please Dave, be cooperative. You failed to answer the question. I will ask you again. How did your parents die?

Dave: [pauses] Fire.


“David! David, run fast! Get yourself out of here!”


“I’m sorry David. Your parents didn’t make it out alive. You’ll be safe with The Sades.”


“You call that a meal? You lazy, good-for-nothing moron! Tom, get the belt!”


“You’re foster family has been searching for you. You have to go back.”


“You’ve got a new home now son. You’ll be safe.”


Jay: Dave. David, are you listening to me? I’ve been asking you a question for several minutes now. Are you alright? Do you need a moment?

Dave: I’m fine. Sir, you have to understand, I didn’t set those fires. After my parents… [pauses to regain control] I can’t stand fire. I can’t…. I can’t even be near fire.

Jay: As I was asking, do you know what was so special about Peet Street? Do you know what was there?

Dave: I… know what’s there. I know it makes me look bad, but it wasn’t me!

Jay: You should know. That’s where your foster family lived. That’s where you spent a miserable year of your life. Why should we believe that you were innocent?

Dave: Because I didn’t do it! Cyrus did.

Jay: [pause] Who’s Cyrus?

Dave: He’s… he’s this guy. I made friends with him. We had nothing in common. He grew up with a great family, with his real parents. He lived in a happy home. He… he likes fire. A lot.

Jay: How do you know that this Cyrus set those fires?

Dave: He told me. I… I had told him about how I grew up. That’s when he got angry. He pulled out a lighter. I got scared, asked him what he was going to do. He told me that everything was going to be alright. But everything’s not alright! I’m stuck in here for what he did.

Jay: Have you seen him since the fire?

Dave: No. No. I heard about it on the news, but they didn’t come to get me until much later. It wasn’t me. You have to believe me.

Jay: What’s Cyrus’ last name?

Dave: I… I don’t know. He never told me.

Jay: Yet you became close friends with him?

Dave: Cyrus was everything that I wasn’t. It’s like… like he saw the things that I had bad about my life, and he had the opposite. It made me feel better to hear about his triumphs. The things that I would never triumph in.

Jay: Is there anybody else that might have seen Cyrus? Anybody that I could get a second opinion from?

Dave: I… I don’t think so. Wait. Cassandra. Cassandra Scordato. She walked by one time when I was talking to Cyrus.

Jay: I’m going to go try and find Ms. Scordato. We’ll resume this as soon as possible. Are you going to be alright Dave?

Dave: I’ll answer that question after you talk to her.


Jay: [into recorder] Once again, I sit here with David Scherer. [To David] Dave, if you’ll remember, when we last talked, we finished up discussing Ms. Cassandra Scordato. I was to go and find her to see if she had heard anything that Cyrus said.

Dave: So did you? What did she say?

Jay: David. I’m going to ask you to listen to me very carefully. Are you listening? Cyrus… your Cyrus. He does not exist.

Dave: What in the world are you talking about? What did Cassandra say?

Jay: Dave… Cassandra isn’t real either. They’re both figments of your imagination. Imaginary friends.

Dave: What, you’re saying that I’m crazy? I’m not crazy! Cyrus is real, Cassandra is real. Why are you doing this?

Jay: David. Calm down. We’re not saying that you’re crazy. Just that you may have some unresolved issues that led to this.

Dave: [begins to cry] Please, Jay, please believe me. They’re real! They are!

Jay: These are a few pages from your journal David. Your foster mother, Mrs. Smith, gave it to us to help you. Do you want me to read it to you?

Dave: [does not reply, instead looks out the window]

Jay: September 30th: “I made up somebody named Cyrus. I just needed somebody to talk to.” October 4th: “Cyrus helped me stand up to that jerk at school. I knew I could count on him.” And the big one, dated October 20th. “Cyrus has a plan for tomorrow. He knows that he can’t light a fire, but I can. He said it would help me. Help me to let go. I trust him.” Going on… October 25th: “Cyrus is missing. I’m worried that I’ll get caught. I shouldn’t have done it. Why!?” October 26th: “He’s in my head. He won’t leave me alone! Somebody please, please help me.” And October 27th: “I’m dead. A dead man. What have I done? It was all his fault!” That was the last entry in the diary David. Do you still not believe me?

Dave: He… he made me do it. I’m innocent! If I didn’t do it, if he hadn’t made me, it wouldn’t help, I don’t know, Cyrus, Cassandra, Sade, Smith, Dear God please don’t let this be happening!


A note left with the tapes 4 days later stated:

David Scherer was found to be suffering from a form of schizophrenia. What started out as an imaginary friend, became a nightmare. He is now being treated at Renfield’s Hospital for the Mentally Ill. Nobody was harmed in the fire, and insurance paid for the damage. Dave won’t do anymore harm.

A year passes, and nobody bothers to listen to the tapes. On the anniversary of Dave’s institutionalization, Jay Gamelin felt compelled to have a look at them. On top of the tapes is a half sheet of paper. In scribbled handwriting, the note said:

Dave was innocent. Innocence does not get punished in my world. Go back to Renfield’s. He’s not there anymore. We both aren’t. You have failed. Vengeance is more than just an action, it is a lifetime goal. And we will not rest until this goal is complete.

Sincerely yours,

Cyrus Tornincasa