puppet

september 17 2006

September 17 2006
I slept through my birthday. I was out for a good 13 hours. I woke up at 7 PM on the 16th with a massive headache, starving. Mom had left a sticky note on my door. She and John had gone out for drinks and there was cake in the fridge. There was cake in the fridge alright, one slice of cake in a big empty container with another note. “We got hungry and didn’t want to wake you. Happy birthday! – love, Mom & Dad”. I ate the cake. Stale and hard. Then I remembered this journal. During my long sleep, it felt like my mind had reassembled itself. I can remember everything. I realized that I can remember all of those lost memories, and I wept. And I threw up. I was asleep for two years. Then it hit me. I had completely missed my medication yesterday. I heated up some ramen and reread every entry of my horrifying past. When I reached the abrupt end of the last entry from 2004, the rest of what happened continued playing in my mind’s eye as I had remembered it, so now I’m going to write what went down in case I forget again. As I was writing in the middle of the night, Mom suddenly knocked on my door asking to come in saying it was very important. I said hold on just a moment I’m not feeling well. I knew that the jig was up, this was it for me. I knew this story. I was the little pig and she was the big bad wolf coming to eat me. She started banging now. “Open the fucking door!” she screamed. It was then that I remembered my shadow Noah dream and I instantly knew that it was a prophecy of that very moment. I knew

september 17 2006

what I had to do. I put the journal against the door, drew the symbol, and said, “praesidium adversus egotisticus”. Then, I locked the journal, hid it behind the dresser, and swallowed the key. As I gulped she broke open the door and stormed up to me without saying a word, the shiny look in her eyes gives me chills just thinking about. She put a foul smelling cloth over my face and stuck something sharp in my neck. Everything after that was a blur. The next time I remember being conscious was on the camp bus with Kevin. At the time, I didn’t know what had happened but it felt like I had woken up from a long nap. I asked him how long I was asleep for and he said that I hadn’t been asleep, but I was out with the flu for a week. I had no memories of my journal, what Mom had done, or anything else I had discovered. All I could grasp was this general but certain feeling of having a happy childhood... just like how I felt before I found the journal back in 2003. It’s like my mind was wiped clean... again. At least now I know why I shat out a key one day. Those damn capsules made me forget about my safe spot over the years, among everything else. Now I know it was me who was banging on the door in my mental library. For two years, I was trapped in there. Now that I’m free and my mind is complete again, I’m never going to let them take my memory ever again. I would rather die than be someone’s fucking puppet.