Journals of a Stalker

Journal Entry 10

September 26, 2010

Dear Journal,
So much has happened yesterday and today that I am not sure what I want to think of it. Some of it good, some a little worrying, and some made me just full of rage. I am not sure where to start.

Well, I guess I should start with Cathrine. She is my everything and comes before anything else in my life.

Cathrine has been staying in her dorm this whole time. She hasn't left her dorm once. She also hasn't gone to her classes both yesterday and today. Cathrine was wearing the same clothes today as she was yesterday. She had on a pair of grey sweatpants, a black sweatshirt with green lettering across the chest that says, "Floyd Central High School", and a pair of fuzzy socks.

She hasn't bothered with make up either days or doing anything with her hair, which has stayed in a messy bun for most of the time. She has been pacing back in forth in her tiny dorm with her phone in her hand. She doesn't do anything with the phone, she just carries it.

Every time her phone has rang, Cathrine answered before the first ring would end. She seemed to be waiting on a call, but I have no idea what. Maybe she is waiting for me. Cathrine didn't get much sleep last night either. She tossed and turned and starred out the window for most of the night.

Today she has dark rings under her eyes and her pacing is more sluggish. She's taken breaks of just sitting on the bed while bouncing her leg anxiously. She has barely eaten in these past two days.

Here's something I don't get. Why isn't Cathrine jumping for joy? She should be happy she doesn't have to deal with that bitch with the purple hair. That girl was practically torturing her with her presence. If Cathrine doesn't start taking care of herself or going to her classes, then I am going to have to intervene. I can't watch her destroy herself. I am worried about her. She means too much to me and I don't know what I would do if I lost her.

On to another subject: The bitch with the purple hair. She has been uncooperative and downright terrible. I can't get it through her head. She is so incredibly stupid I'm surprised she has lived this long. Let's start with last night.

I didn't hear a single peep out of the cellar after I tossed a loaf of bread to the purple-haired girl to keep her alive. There was nothing. Only silence. Too much silence in fact. So, I went back into the cellar. There was no moonlight to shine into the window, so it was completely pitch black inside.

I pulled on the string that turned on the dim light bulb hanging from the ceiling and I saw the girl dead asleep. Her head was resting on her right shoulder while her body was slumped in the chair that she was still tied to. She looked worse than the day before and I smiled happily.

A black and blue bruise covered the left side of her face. I did that. I caused her pain. It was only fair since she did the same to me. I could see where some of the blood from the cut in her cheekbone was washed away from her tears more than likely. The slash on her arm was shallow and the dried blood was crusty on her arm. The cut on her chest was slightly opening up every time she breathed. I walked up to her and looked at the stab wound on her thigh. It was pretty deep and it was still bleeding a little. Excellent.

The girl still hadn't woken up by now. She shouldn't have the glory of sleeping peacefully. Especially since Cathrine hasn't, so I went back inside my house. I grabbed the hand sanitizer and dug though my kitchen drawer again. This time I found a potato peeler. I ran back into the cellar and she hadn't moved an inch. I knew this new learning session was going to be a lot of fun. Well, fun for me at least.

I began by taking my hand and shoving it into the stab wound on the girl's thigh. The girl started screaming instantaneously and was wide awake. I smiled in return.