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I havn't been writing recently because I find that I only write when I'm bitter, upset, confused, or all of the above. Since I came to the Isle, I've been too busy to feel any of that, but tonight (or this morning, as it must be by now) I feel it all. Angel's latest party is long over and her flat is littered with dirty plates and glasses and wilting flowers. She's sound asleep, but I, having only drunk soda at the party, am still wide awake, although too mentally exausted to try to clean up. So I shall attempt to write...
As I wrote before, the day of my lunch with Cindy started badly. If I may copy the lines from my last entry: The day started with a very nasty shock at the Reclamation Facility. As I jogged toward the huge tank, I saw that a large and clearly upset group was standing on the rim. Police were swarming around, a large man was shouting about standards and waving a fishing rod, and a girl was screaming. Curious, I climbed the steps to the rim. As I reached the top, an awful smell drifted toward me. I tried to go closer to the water to see what the matter was, but a young, frightened-looking, and rather green-faced policeman snapped "This is a crime scene, keep out!"
I stared at him. A crime scene? Here? Nothing ever happened here! Then I asked the obvious question: "If it's a crime scene, why don't you have it taped off?"
His stiff, official manner seemed to wilt before my eyes. "There's nothing to tie the tape to!" he nearly wailed. Then, noticing that everyone was looking, he tried to be businesslike again and, putting a stern look on his green face, said "What are you doing here?"
As I opened my mouth to answer, the smell seemed to get even worse. This was the kind of time I wished I didn't have such a very sensitive nose. Luckily, I always keep a few perfumed handkerchiefs in case I run into anything horrid-smelling, and I pulled one out of the pocket of my blouse and held it over my nose and mouth. Seeing the look on the policeman's face, I handed him the other. He blushed, turning a rather nasty shade of purple, and covered his nose as well, before repeating, "What are you doing here?"
"I'm going to Barton to have lunch with a friend" I said. "What's the matter here?"
"Hitchhiking, are you?" he said. "Well, be careful. You don't want the same thing to happen to you as that poor girl in there." He gestured over his shoulder at the tank.
I was about to tell him that I was jogging, not hitchhiking, when he asked "You live in Durem?"
"Yes" I answered, deciding to let him think whatever he wanted of my mode of transportation. After all, I'd already ran into trouble about people not beliving how much I rode shanks pony...
"Think you might know her?" the policeman was asking. "I warn you, it's nasty, but since you want to know what the matter is..."
"I think I can handle it" I replied, as he led me to the water's edge.
I couldn't. Floating in the water was a body, or rather, what had once been a body. Now it was bloated and black, and brownish slime oozed from its many wounds. In fact, it seemed to be mostly wounds. The face was mangled, the arms and legs looked gnawed, the clothes had been ripped open and it looked as if it had been gutted. The stench was unbeliveable, even through my handkerchief. And worst of all... I recoginzed it. Not the body, but the way of killing. When I was in monster form, my last kill had been here. The body had not been discovered...untill now. I was looking at the decomposing remains of my feeding!
I'm not quite sure what happened after that, but I remember someone pulling me backwards, and when my head cleared, I was sitting on the steps with the policeman bending over me anxiously. "Are you ok?" he asked nervously. "I did warn you... Who could do something like that?"
His words hit me like a lead balloon full of rocks. I had done it! I felt like I was going to be sick. Somehow I managed not to, bursting into tears instead. I almost blurted out the truth...but an amazingly cool and clearheaded thought came into my head: he wouldn't belive me, he'd just think I was nuts. The only thing I could do was get out of here...fast. Otherwise I would probably faint, or be sick, or make a fool of myself some other way. So I stood up on wobbly legs and asked the policeman if I could keep going on to Barton.
"You didn't know her?" he asked.
I shook my head, tasting vomit in the back of my throat and thinking that it might be better not to open my mouth.
"Ok then... I guess you can go... Sorry for ruining your lunch."
As I turned to go, a thought struck me. Turning back to him and opening my mouth with an effort, I asked "How was...she...found?"
He gestured toward the large man and the girl. "They came fishing here, and the girl hooked her..." He sighed. "I guess she thought she'd gotten a really big fish, and then when it came up... Be careful, ok, Miss?"
"I will" I said, turning away, although I knew that I didn't have to worry about sharing the girls fate... As soon as I got out of sight, I threw up.
I can't write any more now, I'm making myself sick. Hopefully I'll be able to continue tomorrow.