Practice

07-02-20

Hi, I wrote these down when I had no internet, then forgot about them. They might suck, don't know, it's been more than two months since I've thought about them.

Entry 164, Day 34, 12:46

There was another argument over rations at lunch. Matthew the cause of the issue yet again, as he repeats his demand for another pudding cup. Father put an end to his moaning in a swift manner by threatening to revoke all pudding privileges.

Entry 165, Day 34, 15:46

Tenses are high between my family. Lynn hates it here, but who can blame her. She was able to escape this dysfunctional household for a year before being dragged back.

I won't be surprised if she cursed herself on the nightly because her stubbornness didn't hold out long enough. 72 hours. That's all it would've taken. Three days and she wouldn't have been trapped in this cold, bleak bunker.

As for me, the only regret I hold is not speaking my mind. When Mother showed me the plans for this complex, I should've made my peace at that very moment. Should've told her that I rather burn with the world than be stuck in a confined space with them.

And maybe another regret I hold is the moon. Oh, how I miss her. Miss the hours I've spent starring into a starry sky, trying to depict if her surface displayed the picture of a smiling man, or happy rabbit.

I miss talking to her. Spilling my secrets and frustrated tears to a celestial soul. But I suppose I'll settle for a journal. You shall be the final testament of how this broken family lived in their dying months. As I'm sure by the end of this travesty, we will all be found dead.

Murder by our own.

And truly, who could blame the victor?

This family consists fragments of a moral person. None of us will make it past the pearl gates to a peaceful afterlife. Except for Lynn, the only decent human to be made from the horror show of a family. But I fear that her golden heart will wither in this cage, or be suffocated by the hands who birth her to the point where she might do something rash.

I pray to anything that'll listen: when Death comes to give her the kiss of slumber, that she'll be at peace. The world of the living as been too cruel on that golden heart, so I wish that the land of the dead will spare her pity, and allow her to sleep with ease.

Entry 166, Day 34, 19:52

Dinner ended with shouts and screams. My brothers seems to have gone stir crazy. Father didn't intervene this time. Only leaned back at watched the chaos ensue. Instead, Mother was trying to defuse the tension. Which leads me to believe that after this morning's pudding incident, Mother gave Father an earful about threatening to steal away one of the few things that make this chamber tolerable. Which ended with Father saying something along the lines of, "Fine, then you handle them then."

I'm not sure how dinner's feud ended, as I finished my meal as quickly as possible, so I could leave, and avoid getting a headache.

Entry 167, Day 35, 8:23

Breakfast was swift and silent. No one offered their blessing for a lovely morning, nor did they speak of last night. It wasn't until Mother got up to start the "therapy" session that the silence was killed.

The session was going along like usual. Mother asked how everyone was feeling -which was answer in bitter groans- then she started the section of the hearing where we each take a turn discussing our current feelings. Everything was repeating the normal pattern. We say something about how hobby (so that Mother knows we're still doing them,) then mention something that made us have an ill emotion (today's favorite was the pudding incident,) and how we -as a family- could help prevent that from happening, (we all settled for the yelling to stop.)

But then it was Matthew's turn to discuss.

And the unthinkable happened.

He spoke the truth.

He confessed to having thoughts of how sweet the embrace of death would be. Then continued that he hadn't been keeping up with his hobby (which he labeled as "chores.") His explanation was that he couldn't. It didn't seem worth it. At first he tried doing it for us. So that one of us wouldn't have to put up his slack, but then he realized, he didn't care.

He told Mother and Father that he didn't care.

About us. About the chamber that "protects" us.

Not even about the world.

Mother started crying. That was the first time in years that I saw her display a true emotion. One that I didn't immediately think was only her trying to get an reaction out of us.

Father stayed silent, his eyes glued to the table the entire time. I could only imagine he was thinking about yesterday, when he was fighting the very same person over an extra pudding cup. What happened? How could someone that playful be so sad?

Mother asked through the ugly sobs. "How could they fix it?" Matthew only shakes his head.

We're not doctors. Hell, we don't even know any useful knowledge. I'm the only one here who bothered to learn about psychology, but I learned what creates this problem, not how to fix it.

We sat there for a while, listening to Mother's cries of desperation, and -eventually- Father's muttered prayers. While their four children and Lynn's fiance, stared into space, avoiding eye contact as if it would melt us alive, or turn us to stone.

It felt like an infinite second was passing. And before I knew it, I was standing beside Matthew, words spilling out of my lips without my acknowledgement. I don't know what I said, it happened quickly, but whatever it was made Mother cry harder, and Father go mute.

The rest of the table stared at me in bewilderment. And suddenly, I realized that had proclaimed that I was leaving the chamber. I ask who was joining me, but Matthew was the only one to reply.

So now I write my finally passage in this journal. I shall continue my logs of the outside world in a different book. But I must write my final words before packing.

To my parents: I am sorry. It's not your fault that things ended this way. It is the fact that you are uneducated, and you had no desire to learn when the chance was at your fingertips. With this as my last words to you, keep Lynn happy. Your session will not help. Speak with her. Ask her how she is on a personal level, and if she refuses to open up, let her know that you are there for her. And remember, if you hold on too tight, you'll only hurt the people you love.

And to my beloved sister, don't die. I know you wish to company us, but I also know that you didn't for the sake of our parents. Sometimes, I wish you'll be more commanding with your life and more dismissive of others feelings. But, I know your empathy is too strong, and that's what makes you the best out of this family. I hope your selfless decisions bring you happiness as that's all you ever deserve.

And to the final person from blood. Hi, I know we never speak anymore, and when I overheard your conversation with others I would only feel annoyed, but... I do miss the times we've spent together, and although it was brief, I'll cherish those moments till my last breath. And there's something I've always wouldn't to ask you: Bleach, or Full Metal Alchemist? Which one do you like more?

To my family,
I bid you farewell...
May our paths cross again once we've been enlightened. ♡