(( Voltiel's IC journal. Since her last one was taken ICly. ))

If you're reading this there's a good chance I'm dead. It's a wonder I can write at all. The thumb on this hand has been broken and the tip of my pinky is missing. It's hard to hold the pen properly even though it shouldn't hurt anymore. That was months ago. Look at me trying, putting forth the effort to write about my day. Once upon a time I had a therapist and she told me that writing is good. Cathartic. It would eventually heal me, even, or sew up the wounds inside me like little imaginary threads. Like the 'h' word. Hope. Millions of little invisible threads that if I don't imagine that they're there, they're really not. Like what tethers me to my sanity. It's not real. None of it is. It feels like I've dreamed all this up. There's a good chance I did. And that's probably why everyone calls me crazy. (Or it could be that I'm actually insane.) I'll never know. I think it's better not to know.

Are we a family now?

I've adopted a daughter. She'll be perfect. I just know she will be. The only bad thing is that someone is trying to stop me. I don't know why. I'm giving her shelter. I set her free from what weighed her down. I'm going to make sure nothing ever goes bump in her endless night. Nothing will ever scare her again! I'll expose her. She'll be so desensitized! I'm going to fuck her into oblivion. I'm going to cut her open and let out all the poison, and stitch her back up. I'll even teach her how to heal herself. She'll be as good as me. She'll know how to take care of herself instead of this again-the-corner suffering bullshit. She wont be afraid of me. She's going to love me. I'll be her mother. Tabitha, if only I could tell you all of this. If only you could see how much I love you .. how much I care.

But shh ... it's a surprise.

My daddy is in jail. Oh, he'll always be my father. But we're together now!! I've got to grow up. We're married! I'm a big girl now. I miss him. A part of me doesn't miss him. But I want him to come home. It's quiet here at the edge of the world with my child. We're all going to be a happy family once he's home. Michi too ... I do love Michiaki. But Kakihara would be angry. So angry, if he found out. If he found out Kiara is not his. I decided that's what I'll name the child inside me .... Kiara. It means black because, everything is black here. My eyes - just one of them, but they were both once blackened. My insides, they're rotten, and the maggots feed on me. The world, our home, it is black. These words. All black. Everything. I've been drinking. But that is not black .... red. It is red .... will my daughter come out red? Maggots in her .. too?

Kirvi told me not to drink. I hate her. I hate Colton. I hate them both. I wish they'd die. I'm dead to them, it's only fair that they're dead to me. I'm moving on. Moving on now, since they don't care.

I've got a family to take care of.

We are the Sumfai.