November 3rd, 2011.
Dear Diary,
Nobody was supposed to die that night.
I keep telling the doctors that I don't want to talk about that night. Not because it was especially traumatizing or anything, but because nobody listens to what I say. I mean, I'm not a deranged sociopath or anything, but I feel nothing when I think about that night... predominantly because I don't remember the specific events that led to the death of Jaclyn Myer. The details that I do remember, however, are all incriminating and hopeless when you're trying to convince your sanity to a doctor who thinks you're completely demented.
Don't even get me started on the asylums pastor. Father John Kearney is a very honored man at Serenity Psychiatric Asylum...but I think he's a complete dumbass. Religious beliefs aside, Father John thinks that I'm possessed by satan and I think Father John is possessed by his own mortal stupidity. Not only did he try to get the local church to agree to perform an exorcism on me, he actually calls me "diablo". Of-course when the revelation of his stupid "exorcism" proved that I was indeed not possessed, he STILL has the audacity to remind me everyday that I was "saved by the lord," and I was "released" of the demon that was trapped inside of me. It didn't help that I was screaming profanities either, I just wanted them to listen to me. For once. I just wanted somebody to listen.
Okay, all jokes aside, despite what Father John thinks... I wasn't released of this one demon that inhabited by body: my mind. I can't stop thinking about that night, everything is so blurred in my head. It feels like I'm reaching into my mind for memories that don't exist, it feels like I'm trying to remember something that never happened. Does that make me crazy? Is that why I'm locked up here? Because I can't remember if I killed her or not. Or would it make me crazy if I actually killed her and I'm forcing my mind to obliterate the events that occurred that night? Look at me, here I am, assessing my sanity... I must really be loosing it.
I've been here for two months, not that I really have a choice in the matter. My family and friends think I did it. On the darkest days, I almost want to confess... What if I did do it? How can I confess to something that I don't remember happening? So that's all i've said for the past two months, "I don't remember." My psychiatrist, Dr. Logan Holloway, seems to think it's almost convenient that I don't remember anything. I have a secret, a secret that I didn't tell the doctors or family...
I see Jaclyn sometimes.
In my dreams, I see her. She's always crying and pointing a bloody finger out accusingly at a shadow that stood in-front of her. Jaclyn's beautiful features were now tainted. She looked disfigured, the person who killed her made her suffer first. Jaclyn had beautiful eyes when she was alive, her eyes always radiated immense joy and was full of life... but now all I saw when I looked into those same but recognizably different eyes, was agonizing pain and despair. If you looked closer into Jaclyn's eyes you'd see a spark of rage. She was angry at what happened to her and she was out for revenge. I spent many nights awake because I was afraid to close my eyes, even for a second. What if Jaclyn tried to kill me in my sleep? Then I remind myself that Jaclyn's dead and there is no possible way she could get to me. Some nights I would wake screaming hysterically, "I'm so sorry Jaclyn. I couldn't save you, I'm so sorry." The nurses would run in and sedate me to which I'd fall into a dreamless sleep. Which I preferred, honestly. Dr. Logan would always ask me the following morning what I thought my dream meant, and I would always respond calmly yet assertively, "I don't remember." The truth is, I remember every dream all too well.
I don't know if I killed Jaclyn or not but I think I know someone who might have wanted her dead.
I have to go now, the nurses will come in any moment and force me to take my medicine. Truthfully, I don't really swallow the pills the nurses give me. The nurses don't really check if I swallowed them either, I just spit it out after they leave and hide them in a tissue that I keep tucked under my pillowcase. Those pills make me tired and confused. I can finally think clearly and I'm going figure out who killed Jaclyn Myer, not only to clear my name but also to convict the rightful killer. The person who killed Jaclyn Myer was still out there, and I had a gut-feeling that person might want to kill again.
Love always,
Caroline.
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