Dear Daiary

The Seventh Entry

(NB: The Subeta anonymous plot had "Luminaire" in lieu of "Peregrie". "Shadowglen" is used instead of "Eidhu" (admittedly, the name of Eidhu is inspired by "Skedhu",) and the Darkside is used to stand in for Aelmear. The proximities of Ordale and Aelmear are similar to that of Skedhu and Meneb, albeit with the former being vertical and the latter being horizontal. Orda Chiron share similarities to the Skedhu zombies, hence the parallel.)

December 24, 2013

Dearest May Mari Hanley,

By the time I am writing this, maybe you're undergoing the surgery to remove the mass in your head. Maybe the operation is done and you’re sleeping now. I’m sure the doctors will remove the tumor on your head.

You are not a bad person. Bad people do not get cancer. You certainly do not have cancer.

I do not work in this hospital anymore, because the doctors do not like me. I fought with them, and told them what I found, but they would not listen to me. I know that they mean well and only want to protect me, but they could have given me a chance.

I wanted to save you, and I still do. It must be because I felt this affinity to you. I tried to read more about children’s brain tumors, and I do not believe that you have glioblastoma, or even anaplastic astrocytoma. The diagnosis that the doctor made in the other hospital isn’t correct, if we based it on the tissue biopsy, or even your age. You’re 6 years old. A pediatric brain tumor has a very low likelihood of being cancerous. Even given the case that you might be special in that way, it doesn’t add up. Especially with that arm.

The doctors must be very confused. They do not understand what happened to your arm, or how it could have decayed like that. I am confident that it is a mutation of the virus that caused the recent epidemic in Eidhu. You live in the Aelmear-Ordale border, right? Remember when you wrote that your mother left you in Eidhu for a day, just because you knocked over her vase? Didn’t you say that your arm started to bleed? That is why I believe that your arm must have been infected by the virus.

The biopsy on your tumor seems to demonstrate a pilocytic astrocytoma that had not been attended to quickly. It grew slowly, without you or mom… I mean, your mother not noticing it, until it got so big.

May, you do not have cancer, and you will not die to that cyst. I pray to the gods that I am wrong about your arm. The progression of its necrosis is unlike anything documented in accepted science, but it’s very similar to the progression of what have been referred to as “zombie strains”. If I am right, however, the doctors have been bombarding you with radiation and drugs that you shouldn't have taken… and I am now powerless about it. It did things to your head that it shouldn't have.

I want to save you. I don’t want you to die. The doctors will not believe, because to them, I am “just a nurse”.

Yes. Your Mama is also my mom, but I do not know who your Papa is. It was funny that she married someone who shares my dad’s last name.

Mom eloped with my dad while she was in college, because they loved each other. They had me not long after. We were not rich, and sometimes food was scarce, but we were a happy family, until… 

Mom snapped when I was your age. She grew lonelier each day, and started to berate me for the smallest of mistakes. One day, when dad and I got back home after buying dinner, I saw my mom in bed… with another man. Dad was angry, but his rage did not match that of my mother, who took the gun underneath the bed, and killed my father with it. She tried to run after me, too, but the man she was with took me and helped me escape. Mom killed that man, as well. I never turned back, and lived in an orphanage until a kind and wealthy couple adopted me, and sent me to school.

If as an act of gratitude to them, and my fulfilment of my obligation to you as my stepsister, I want to rescue you from that madwoman.

When your mother was pregnant with you, I would have imagined it was difficult. She was probably 33 years old! I’m sure mom loves you in her odd ways. She tells you that you’re pretty. I think you are pretty, May, just like me! Still, I do not want her to hurt you.

You may not understand these now, but I believe it is my duty to tell these to you. One day, I hope that you will grasp my words, whether you would have become one of the undead, had a new lease at life, or become a star in the sky, just like your Papa.

You wrote somewhere in this diary that you wanted to keep a dried flower here in your diary, right? I dry flowers and stick them to greeting cards myself. I want to give you this dried flower, one I only see during the Harvest.

All I want for Peregrie is my sister to be saved. I want you to be saved.

— Amy Mari Hanley a.k.a. Nurse Amy