The Journal Entry

"What did you end up writing in those journals of yours?" the aid asked. She seemed more curious than she had in the past and Victoria couldn't help but feel hopeful that maybe someone out there believed her.

"I have some of my letters with me. Would you like to hear one?" she asked as she pressed her hand against her chest and pulled out a wad of loose pages.

The aid stared at the wad with wide eyes. Her red bangs stuck to her forehead. It was hotter in this room than she had been prepared for. When they asked her to watch this particular patient she hadn't expected to be this entertained. She thought the patient would run around the room a bit or throw some kind of a fit but this scene was otherworldly and she could not help but wonder if the patient truly did believe everything she was saying. The aid had to admit that her curiosity was peaked. 'Demons, Shadowmen, ghostly lovers? This one is certifiable but undeniably interesting,' she thought to herself as she leaned in towards Victoria and smiled.

"Absolutely, whenever you are ready."

"Ok," Victoria said with a heavy sigh as she steeled herself for what she feared would come of it. 'Be brave,' she said to herself as she carefully opened the pages and began to read.

"Dear Journal,

I have become the type of person that takes a great deal of personal pride in being able to steal the boyfriend of the girl that I didn’t like. I thought that by stealing him from her I was showing her how much better than her I was. It made me feel powerful and proud. Mostly, it helped me forget.

In those acts of defiance and hatred, a small part of me found control. The shadows that I had started seeing would hide when I was especially cruel. I’d feel safe from the things that go bump in the night.

What I didn’t realize. What I am starting to see clearly now is that I was losing the battle; I was losing the war. I gained nothing. That guy that I stole, he would have left with any other girl. I wasn’t special because I stole him. He wasn’t something to be “stolen” anyway. He was a young man with young men's needs. His needs were more important than her feelings. I don’t blame him either. He was a victim of THEM. We all are.

At the end of the day, I was ultimately responsible for my own actions and for the pain that I caused those girls. I never even kept those boys. It was easier to discard them. I couldn’t even tell you what they looked like. They were... Unremarkable.

From the different lovers to the failing grades and lost friendships I found myself increasingly isolated.

End of Journal Entry"

"That's it?" the aid asked. A hint of frustration laced her words.

"That's it for that entry. I have more," Victoria replied hastily. She realized how she had come across and wondered if it were possible to walk back her words. She looked at the aide that had suddenly turned to face towards the window. "I have more..." she said with more conviction.

The aide sighed heavily and slowly turned around. "I think we have reached a good stopping point for today. We can pick this back up again tomorrow."

"But wait...I have a really good one," she stammered. She was briskly scouring through the various pages looking for one that she could use to show the aide the proof she needed to find. Her eyes landed on the perfect page. "Look, here, this one," she said swinging the page in the air.

The aide smiled wide and wiped her sticky bangs away from her face. "What if I came back every day this week and you read me one of these stories?"

"Are you serious?"

"Serious as a heart attack. I am interested in what you have to say and we have plenty of film to record with but if we are going to continue it is going to have to be tomorrow. Besides, it is almost lunchtime and I need to get you back to the main room with the others."

"But..." Victoria pleaded. She was afraid that this was the end.

"No buts, I promise I'll be back to see you every day this week. You just need to promise to be a good girl and no kicking, biting, or telling people they are shadow men while I'm gone. Do we have a deal?"

Victoria looked at the aide's outstretched hand and wondered if she was meant to shake it. It had been so long since she'd had that kind of human interaction. Wearily she lifted her own hand and placed it into the aides. With a firm shake, the deal was done.

"So, what are we going to talk about tomorrow?" the aid asked as the curiosity had gotten the better of her.

"We are going to talk about Michael," Victoria said with conviction. There was something comforting about knowing that soon she was going to tell her story to someone who had wanted to hear it. The world didn't feel as dark and for once she felt like there was a sliver of hope.

"Who's Michael?" the aide asked as a twinkle of intrigue kissed her green eyes and made them sparkle in the empty room.

"My mother's murderer,"