HOME | DD

Description

1249 Words

-+———+-
Warnings
Grief, Loss of Loved One, Dysphoria, Self-loathing
-+———+-
Entry 12

I can’t keep stuffing this tiny book behind the furniture. It’s becoming a real pain to remove it from its spot and it also appears to be somewhat visible if you enter the room from a specific angle. Good news though! I have discovered while sleeping holding Goobie that the fabric has become just worn enough where there is a hole just the right size for the book to fit forming. Of course, this will need a patch soon enough but for now it’s the perfect hiding spot for my private thoughts.

Entry 13

(A drawing of a vessel surrounded by question marks)

Entry 14

Sweet love I feel pathetic. Every time I think begin to tell myself I’m fine with it, I catch sight of myself in the water. Such an ugly creature… stained with sickness. Why can’t this accursed place just be more like home… no mirrors, no standing water at every turn, just… just me. Minding my own business like a reasonable person without a horrid reminder of this whole… THIS! Daff was blathering on about blights again today or whatever… curse this, curse that. He started on about how he heard that apparently some folk just have no reflection at all. Sounds like a whole load of hogwash to me but what bliss that must be. If I don’t exist at all then neither does the problem. Right?

Entry 15

After some further thought, I have come to the conclusion that since I obviously can’t just turn invisible and disappear forever… maybe a disguise is in order. If I can’t have my body back just the way it was then I’ll remake my skin myself! Ok that sounded weirder than I wanted it to… but I don’t know how else to phrase it. Why am I even apologising? Nobody aside from me is going to read this after I destroy this book anyway. Though… if you are reading this and aren’t me then could you kindly GO THE HELL AWAY!!!! Thank you.

Entry 16

The den staff caught me cleaning dishes in the kitchen today. Didn’t even let them finish asking why I was in there before I bolted. They would probably tell me off for it anyway. Not doing it the way they do it or just because it isn’t my place to be washing their dirty dish pile… I just needed something to do with my hands. Take my mind off of the stupid flashbacks. No… they aren’t stupid. I just feel stupid for getting so upset by them. They’re all happy memories and Soso wouldn’t want me to be upset so why am I crying so often? It doesn’t make sense... It’s not even like I’ve been hydrating enough to sustain crying anyway. I need that fluid in me not wasted all over the damn floor. I miss her. I really, really miss her. I’m just being an embarrassment to her legacy by acting like this. It’s been so long. I should be over it! I SHOULD BE FINE! WHY AM I NOT FINE!? I’ll never be good enough for anything if I can’t just get a grip and cope with this… Why am I just not strong enough?

Entry 17

(The page is filled black with half a pen’s worth of scribbles)

Entry 18

(An abstract drawing of a face screaming)

Entry 19

(A detailed drawing of a patch of flowering moss)

Entry 20

(Various test scribbles of an assortment of coloured pencils, a few of them are circled)

Entry 21

Don’t forget. Just don’t you dare forget. The colours. I can be normal. We can be normal. I just need to not forget. I just need them to help. They will help. They will… the adults know what they’re doing. They’re smarter and wiser and a lot older than I am. Lots of experience. They have to know what to do. They have to figure it out.

Entry 22

(A headshot drawing of Vermin smiling without his swan feelers labelled “much better”)

Entry 23

(A single large circle in the middle of the page that seems to have been drawn over several times with enough force to indent the next page.)

Entry 24

(A detailed study of the large blue mushrooms found in the Whispering Caverns from different angles. Labelled “bioluminescence is such a wonderful thing”. In the bottom corner of the page there is a small drawing of a goober.)

Entry 25

There is the strangest child wandering about around the den at the moment. No weirder than any of these other disgusting mutations but… I can’t help but notice that their phylactery doesn’t follow the pattern that Daffodil pointed out to me. These colours. They aren’t random… they have a method to them. Someone smarter than me has probably already figured that out… but the shades. Kits that looked nothing alike before look like they could be twins now. Pink follows cream and grey follows brown yet with all cyan rarely coexists… Pink, yellow, brown but theirs is just… too vibrant? Maybe they were just untouched like Daff… Or I’m going crazy. I feel like I’m losing my mind, that’s for sure. What does it all mean? Do I even care? I just want my life back. I want my ME back! I never asked for this! What did I do wrong? I was so good… I was so good… I was so good…

Entry 26

I saw the doctors today, no sign of Lulu but he’s bound to show up eventually. I don’t even know if I want to see him after what he did. Lying to Daff like that. What else has he lied about just to keep us in the dark? I don’t want to think about it. It just makes me so MAD! Anyway, they said I had a clean bill of health aside from being slightly underweight. You have to be joking, right? CLEAN BILL OF HEALTH! Are they BLIND!? Change is a normal part of growing up blah, blah, blah. You know what isn’t normal? YOUR PHYLACTERY CHANGING GODDAMN COLOUR!!!! That is ILLNESS! DISEASE! I AM SICK AND THEY AREN’T DOING ANYTHING TO FIX IT! Oh wow my ass is talking! Must just be puberty! STUPID, STUPID, STUPID! No, no. Don’t get angry. They’re trying their best to research what’s going on… they are. They are. They are. They are. It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok.

Entry 27

(The words “It’s ok” repeated over and over to cover the page. The handwriting is significantly worse as if she was shaking while writing it.)

(A chunk of pages have been torn out)

Entry 32

I really need to find myself a part time job or something… my savings are dwindling by the day. Body paint is just too expensive to even consider. I can’t even afford carrot snacks on the best of days let alone the amount of time and effort it would take for such a lacklustre result. Besides even those carrot snacks aren’t as good as the ones I grew at home. Den doesn’t even have a garden! I’m getting off track. I need something to cover and contain the mutations as well as correcting them. But what? I wish I could just change my fabric at the drop of a hat like a vessel but… Actually! Maybe that isn’t such a strange idea. Fabric…

(The rest is blank)

~~~~~~

Secret diary. Secret diary. Fern is sad… she needs someone to talk to. Maybe soon.

7/914 Acorns

Description

1249 Words

-+———+-
Warnings
Grief, Loss of Loved One, Dysphoria, Self-loathing
-+———+-
Entry 12

I can’t keep stuffing this tiny book behind the furniture. It’s becoming a real pain to remove it from its spot and it also appears to be somewhat visible if you enter the room from a specific angle. Good news though! I have discovered while sleeping holding Goobie that the fabric has become just worn enough where there is a hole just the right size for the book to fit forming. Of course, this will need a patch soon enough but for now it’s the perfect hiding spot for my private thoughts.

Entry 13

(A drawing of a vessel surrounded by question marks)

Entry 14

Sweet love I feel pathetic. Every time I think begin to tell myself I’m fine with it, I catch sight of myself in the water. Such an ugly creature… stained with sickness. Why can’t this accursed place just be more like home… no mirrors, no standing water at every turn, just… just me. Minding my own business like a reasonable person without a horrid reminder of this whole… THIS! Daff was blathering on about blights again today or whatever… curse this, curse that. He started on about how he heard that apparently some folk just have no reflection at all. Sounds like a whole load of hogwash to me but what bliss that must be. If I don’t exist at all then neither does the problem. Right?

Entry 15

After some further thought, I have come to the conclusion that since I obviously can’t just turn invisible and disappear forever… maybe a disguise is in order. If I can’t have my body back just the way it was then I’ll remake my skin myself! Ok that sounded weirder than I wanted it to… but I don’t know how else to phrase it. Why am I even apologising? Nobody aside from me is going to read this after I destroy this book anyway. Though… if you are reading this and aren’t me then could you kindly GO THE HELL AWAY!!!! Thank you.

Entry 16

The den staff caught me cleaning dishes in the kitchen today. Didn’t even let them finish asking why I was in there before I bolted. They would probably tell me off for it anyway. Not doing it the way they do it or just because it isn’t my place to be washing their dirty dish pile… I just needed something to do with my hands. Take my mind off of the stupid flashbacks. No… they aren’t stupid. I just feel stupid for getting so upset by them. They’re all happy memories and Soso wouldn’t want me to be upset so why am I crying so often? It doesn’t make sense... It’s not even like I’ve been hydrating enough to sustain crying anyway. I need that fluid in me not wasted all over the damn floor. I miss her. I really, really miss her. I’m just being an embarrassment to her legacy by acting like this. It’s been so long. I should be over it! I SHOULD BE FINE! WHY AM I NOT FINE!? I’ll never be good enough for anything if I can’t just get a grip and cope with this… Why am I just not strong enough?

Entry 17

(The page is filled black with half a pen’s worth of scribbles)

Entry 18

(An abstract drawing of a face screaming)

Entry 19

(A detailed drawing of a patch of flowering moss)

Entry 20

(Various test scribbles of an assortment of coloured pencils, a few of them are circled)

Entry 21

Don’t forget. Just don’t you dare forget. The colours. I can be normal. We can be normal. I just need to not forget. I just need them to help. They will help. They will… the adults know what they’re doing. They’re smarter and wiser and a lot older than I am. Lots of experience. They have to know what to do. They have to figure it out.

Entry 22

(A headshot drawing of Vermin smiling without his swan feelers labelled “much better”)

Entry 23

(A single large circle in the middle of the page that seems to have been drawn over several times with enough force to indent the next page.)

Entry 24

(A detailed study of the large blue mushrooms found in the Whispering Caverns from different angles. Labelled “bioluminescence is such a wonderful thing”. In the bottom corner of the page there is a small drawing of a goober.)

Entry 25

There is the strangest child wandering about around the den at the moment. No weirder than any of these other disgusting mutations but… I can’t help but notice that their phylactery doesn’t follow the pattern that Daffodil pointed out to me. These colours. They aren’t random… they have a method to them. Someone smarter than me has probably already figured that out… but the shades. Kits that looked nothing alike before look like they could be twins now. Pink follows cream and grey follows brown yet with all cyan rarely coexists… Pink, yellow, brown but theirs is just… too vibrant? Maybe they were just untouched like Daff… Or I’m going crazy. I feel like I’m losing my mind, that’s for sure. What does it all mean? Do I even care? I just want my life back. I want my ME back! I never asked for this! What did I do wrong? I was so good… I was so good… I was so good…

Entry 26

I saw the doctors today, no sign of Lulu but he’s bound to show up eventually. I don’t even know if I want to see him after what he did. Lying to Daff like that. What else has he lied about just to keep us in the dark? I don’t want to think about it. It just makes me so MAD! Anyway, they said I had a clean bill of health aside from being slightly underweight. You have to be joking, right? CLEAN BILL OF HEALTH! Are they BLIND!? Change is a normal part of growing up blah, blah, blah. You know what isn’t normal? YOUR PHYLACTERY CHANGING GODDAMN COLOUR!!!! That is ILLNESS! DISEASE! I AM SICK AND THEY AREN’T DOING ANYTHING TO FIX IT! Oh wow my ass is talking! Must just be puberty! STUPID, STUPID, STUPID! No, no. Don’t get angry. They’re trying their best to research what’s going on… they are. They are. They are. They are. It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok.

Entry 27

(The words “It’s ok” repeated over and over to cover the page. The handwriting is significantly worse as if she was shaking while writing it.)

(A chunk of pages have been torn out)

Entry 32

I really need to find myself a part time job or something… my savings are dwindling by the day. Body paint is just too expensive to even consider. I can’t even afford carrot snacks on the best of days let alone the amount of time and effort it would take for such a lacklustre result. Besides even those carrot snacks aren’t as good as the ones I grew at home. Den doesn’t even have a garden! I’m getting off track. I need something to cover and contain the mutations as well as correcting them. But what? I wish I could just change my fabric at the drop of a hat like a vessel but… Actually! Maybe that isn’t such a strange idea. Fabric…

(The rest is blank)

~~~~~~

Secret diary. Secret diary. Fern is sad… she needs someone to talk to. Maybe soon.

7/914 Acorns