Monday, April 2, 2012

It's hard to type. My hands a sore even though that...thing didn't even do anything to them. I've been released from the hospital along with Cynthia and we're back at the house with Tony. Cynthia, while a strong young girl, is obviously alarmed by everything that happened. She's terrified that the monster who plagued her is going to come back any moment and she swears that she sees it everywhere now. I'm unsure what this means but I'm guessing it's not good.

I take back what I said before. My entire body is sore. Tony didn't want me typing but I figured I owed everyone an explanation. The Caretaker...he's just a normal looking man. He's around Tony's height and dark haired and eyed. He had a beard and honestly was very hairy all around. I'm guessing he's somewhere around the age of fifty or so. Maybe a little younger. Just in case any of you see him...which I highly doubt of course, but  I guess I can try and warn you all.

I had just got home from work and I was exhausted. I don't really remember what I was doing, I just know that the Caretaker suddenly stepped out from behind the corner and smashed me over the head with a frying pan. When I woke up my head was pounding and I was tied to one of the kitchen chairs. Everything was fuzzy and it was hard to focus-apparently I took quite a bruising on my skull-but I do remember the Caretaker not wasting any time with suddenly sticking me with a sewing needle. He asked me if I remembered mother and if I wanted to know if she missed me and then I just...froze up.

My mother...my mother is insane. When I was young my father left my family leaving my little sister and I to deal with mother. Something inside her snapped that day, I think. She started with verbal abuse, neglecting my sister and I and only communicating to insult us and tell us how much she loathed to see us. I could handle it, I kept telling myself that she was just sad and she couldn't help it. That's when she began to physically abuse me. I wouldn't let her touch my sister, she was the closest thing I had. Her abuse was unique. She would stick me with her sewing needles or other pointed objects and tell me that I deserved it. I would go to school in long sleeve shirts and pants even when it was ninety degrees outside and always told the other kids I wasn't bothered at all. In truth I drifted away from those children until they found me as a "geek" or "nerd" and decided to bully me as well. For a year I hated going to school and coming home. I would take my sister out into the woods and we would pretend we were in a new house, a better one with the father who left us because surely he was better than that woman.

One afternoon I came home alone. My sister had stayed home due to catching the flu. I didn't want to leave her alone with mother but she threatened me until I went to school. I called for the both of them but no one answered. When I finally found them...she had drowned her in the bathtub. She took my little sister, my world, and drowned her and then walked into another room to sew like nothing had happened.

When the police came and took her away, I can't remember much. In fact that period of my life is fuzzy at best. I do recall the court case. She pleaded insanity and was sent to a mental institute to spend her days. She didn't have to pay for taking the life of the only person I cared about. She got to spend everyday knowing that she murdered my sister and fucking got away with it. I decided then that I was going to become a police officer to make sure people like her couldn't get away without the proper punishment.

When I heard of the Delmont case, I related to it immediately. A father who left a wife and his child alone. The child goes missing and the mother isn't arrested. I looked for her as hard as I could. I was determined to make sure that what happened to me wouldn't happen to Cynthia. I thought-I don't know, I thought that I could fix everything. I couldn't of course. We've all seen that. I'm a joke to everyone, including the police force.

So there you go, that's why I acted so rashly and was so focused on finding Cathy Delmont. I'm taking some time off of the job. Or, my boss told me to. Tony is going to make sure I heal properly, I guess, and take care of Cynthia as well. I think what happened was a wake up call to him. He poured all the alcohol down the drain this morning and told me to not buy anymore.

-Simon

3 comments:

  1. That's fucking insane. I'm sorry. How's Cyn doing?

    ReplyDelete
  2. She's doing very well. A little banged up still, but that's understandable. We'll be keeping her home until she's ready for school again.

    ReplyDelete