((Author note: This is Ellis' IC journal in the Psych ward--where he is holed up for 6 months (IC). It is always with Ellis in his cell so this journal cannot be read IC unless a scene is played out in-world. This journal could be triggering so proceed with caution!))

((Also, after today's entry it will be vague as to the time period because of the time jump. I decided that since oocly I will be here 3 weeks but ic 6 months; it will be 1 irl week= 2 month period.

Thank you for reading!))

August 10, 2015

Ellis sat in the white bed, holding a composition notebook that he was instructed to write in. He had a journal at home but he couldn't fathom bringing it here. He stared at it a few moments and then opened it. Ellis glanced up after a moment, sensing someone was watching. A hospital guard watched him intently through the window in the door. "Aint gonna stab myself with it or nothin." He growled at him. The guard grunted back and continued to watch him. Ellis slumped his shoulders, and glanced back at the blank page. He started to write hurriedly, the thoughts coming in quicker than he could write. Everything seemed disjointed yet connected as he tried to piece together what happened to him as of late.

Time seems to stop in this place. I can't breathe in the confinement of the gloomy basement. It consumes me. They whisper to me all at once sometimes and other times I hear them one by one. They taunt me. They taunt me. Eyes. Eyes. Eyes. Because they are all I see.
The psychologist gave me a notebook to record things. I'm supposed to write about what happened. What did happen? Indeed. Everything is chaos and I am suffocating. I was sent to jail for murder and now I am stuck in the Psych ward for six months because I'm crazy. The court decided my fate in a big court room. Involuntary commitment. Extended commitment. The voices laughed at me for hours.

When Rachell didn't confess, I knew I had to take it into my own hands. I had to make sure that she would confess. It was one of the first days of August that I scoured the town for a victim. I needed a human message board. I wanted to wake her up and show her that I was serious. I had to. It was imperative to everything. Now I see how little everything matters. I am here and she is free. And the voices have become a constant presence. I can barely talk to people without them intervening. I shout at them to stop but many times they don't unless they become curious.

I found the body. She was a pretty young girl in a green dress with purple flowers I think. She was pale and pretty. I struck up a conversation with her and then I hit her with my cane. After knocking her out; I picked her up and carried her to the tunnels. My knees hurt so bad I thought they would break off. I was still recovering from the knee surgery. I placed her on the dirty ground and contemplated how to do it. I had all of my supplies and the plans in my head. It was calculated. Yet staring at her face made it different somehow. Real. The voices weren't as bad then. I carved messages into her with my knife that I was certain Rachell would understand. I felt bad that this girl had to die because of this. There wasn't another way. The first time she woke up I knocked her out. The second time I gagged her with part of her shirt I had to rip off to get to her skin. I carved above her breasts and then under on her stomach. I didn't want to touch the boobs because that would have been wrong and invasive.

I didn't want to knock her out again because she couldn't be dead while I carved her. That defeated the purpose. She had to be alive when I carved the messages. I carved into the torso first and then into her limbs. Precision. That was what was key. When I finished I took the knife to her throat and slashed it. She bled out. So much blood. I was mesmerized yet I felt such a loss. I dream of her eyes sometimes. She was so afraid and all alone even though I was right there. I sometimes wish I had comforted her and told her it was OK. But I was too busy with my purpose. I dream of her eyes and then I wake up and see them still sometimes. Just her eyes bearing down with me with the same fear. I hate sleeping.

When she had passed I took the meat cleaver and chopped off her head and then her limbs. I put them in the cooler because I had to keep them fresh. I messaged my son so that he will take the "present" to Rachell. After it was arranged, with him none the wiser of what was in the box, I headed to Bottoms Up where we met up. He took the box and headed on his way. He didn't see the blood on his shirt from the slight leakage of the box. I went back to the tunnel because I wanted to put the torso somewhere so that people could find it.

A woman already found it. I started to back away but she heard me. I tried to run but my knees, which were already weakened from carrying that girl and recovering from the knee replacement surgery, collapsed. There she was next to me comforting me and telling me I had to leave before they found me. I don't think it's safe to say her name here because even though I keep this in my possession at all times; I fear they will take it while I sleep and read it in secret. I can't take the chance. At first she thought I was someone else. I don't remember his name. She called me a cab and helped me walk my broken ass to the side of the road where it stopped. I left my cane at the beach. I didn't dispose of it until days later. I guess they forgot to check there. Not that it matters. This wasn't about getting away with it. I knew the consequences of my actions. Rachell would know it's me and go to the cops. I had to send a message. I had to. Even if I went down for it. If only I had known what I do now.

Ryder was upset because Rachell left him at the Bakery. I guess she got the package. I felt guilty that he was worrying about Rachell--though I don't understand why he couldn't hate her. She ruined our family. Maybe he understands now. Doesn't he understand that she and Garrett Zero have ruined our family? I don't know if Ryder is talking again but he wasn't that day. I shouldn't have involved him in his condition but I knew he was the only one she trusted that would blindly help me. I hope he's OK now. I wish I could have seen the look on Rachell's face when she saw the limbs and the head in the box, carved in all their glory. Message sent.

When she still didn't confess; I knew I had to do more. Lena said that I took down the rest of the Vonds and now I had to take down Rachell once and for all even if we sent away the children. I don't know what good that would have done. I sent messages via text to Rachell. I was careful not to make any direct confessions, though. I had to drive it home. She acted like she didn't know what I was talking about. She didn't see. Why couldn't she see? It could have gone away if she'd just confessed to what she'd done. I still can't remember exactly what happened in the basement that night but I see flashes sometimes. I can't seem to separate them enough to know what exactly happened. I know something did though. Something maddening. I see flashes of faces. Sometimes even my own from the so-called video I watched. Fucking faces everywhere in my mind. And the girl's eyes. All the eyes.

Voices whisper things in my ears. Sometimes it's more like shouting. How can one concentrate? The doctors are supposed to change my medications but I don't know when. I can't concentrate. I can't. Her eyes are sinking into the pages and I don't want to write on them.

Ellis slammed the book shut, pen still inside, and placed it in his special place for safe keeping.