((Clover's diary is a neat little thing, pink-covered and wrapped in a meticulous bow like a birthday present. It's absurdly perfect. Cute stickers of hearts, stars and food with faces decorate it from cover to cover. Her writing is curly and girlish, innocent and sweet, her I's dotted with hearts and clover-symbols. The diary is kept beneath her frilly pillows.))

Mary, Mary, quite contrary, where does our garden grow? With silver knives, and sobbing wives, and pretty maids dead in a row. Graves for knaves down at the motel. Promise me, Mary, that you won't tell! Our story begins but does not end. I'll hold to you as we descend. Promise me Mary, quite contrary. I know where our garden grows.

((Sticker of a heart, swirly little doodle of a four-leaf clover.))

Crutches are very annoying!!!
I can't even run anymore. My kneecaps hurt, they were cracked and crushed and destroyed! But I'll live on. They'll heal. I'll get better. Improve. Grow like a clover, like a tree, like a forest. Twisty turny branches and trunks, swirly and pretty, strong and powerful! My teeth are powerful. Sharpened them. Improved. I'm constantly improving (Hah, as if that's even possible! But it is, and it's true).

CeCe and Luz were just the beginning, a rough rocky start to a beautiful legacy trenched in elegance, love and mourning. CeCe's death went horribly, the woman climbing out of the grave like a damn zombie and getting to the hospital only to die. Is that irony? I don't know what irony is. Luz was just a drunken torture death, her cries useless and meaningless. Bums don't count. These women had class, sincerity, happiness in their lives. I loved every second of it. They are not the first; they are a beginning.

I can't wait!

((A few happy-face stickers here, some curly scribbling of flowers on a gravestone.))

Lynx said we're going to strike more, I likened it to going on tour (I'm a good rhymer!). A tour of the city. Charge admission in blood, it'll be killer (and I'm a good comedian!).

I'm good at everything!

I met a girl named Hemera the other day. Pushed her down some graves. Oh, you could tell she loved it. She was covered in dirt and I think I saw a few tears and some blood. She thinks she's a goddess. It's hilarious. I'm going to milk this opportunity like a dying cow, which she will soon be. Hah. I wish I could laugh in writing without it sounding weird, I just giggled and it sounded really cute. I'm really cute.

I'm the cutest!

((More stickers. A drawing of a girl with long hair in a noose. Drawing of a four-leaf clover.))