Diary of a Madman – August 14th
**Author’s notes: This is the eighth piece, the first is found here
You can find the complete, professionally edited and extended book here along with two short stories for $2.99.**
An obituary from the Liberation Times:
Julie Stone, 26, died August 12th 1988.
Julie was born on January 8th in 1962 and attended Memorial High School where she received her High School Diploma. She excelled as an artist and had plans to attend the Liberation Community College early next year.
She is survived by her aunt, Crystal Birmingham. A small service will be provided at Liddell’s Funeral Home.
I walked over to Vanessa’s apartment and knocked on her door. I asked her to lunch and guess what? She said yes. And then, you won’t believe this, we went to watch a movie afterwards.
I feel so much better after the other night. It’s like the hunger is almost gone. Of course it won’t be gone for long but at least I won’t pass out anymore. That note I got in the mail was a bit creepy. But I’m in control, not him.
So I knocked out more of my book in the morning and spent time with Vanessa. What a perfect day, Diary. We get along very well and I can tell that she likes me. The way she looks at me, the way she smiles at me, they way she touches me; I think I’m in love.
The hunger is fast asleep, at least for now.
I woke up thinking of her. I feel almost like a new man. The hunger that dwells deep inside seems to be asleep, snoring quietly.
I opened the blinds to my apartment and I let all the sunshine in. For a moment the sun blinded me but slowly the sun retreated behind some clouds. I then heard a slight knock on the door. It mustn’t have been more than 10 o’ clock in the morning; but she was there with a tray in her hand.
I let her in and we spent the whole day together on my couch. She thumbed through some of my books and even borrowed a couple. To Sarah was included in her stack. She left a little before the sun went down and I actually wrote more in my new book.
Today seemed like a very productive day, I even cleaned up a bit and that’s when I found a crumpled note. It was another page torn out of you. I never felt scared as I held it in my hand. I felt horrible. It’s a lie; a total and indisputable lie. He is just trying to trick me. He’s a liar.
The hunger is still sleep. Thank god.
From a torn page of Todd Casil’s Diary:
Sarah’s dead. I killed her.