(Journal Entry 4 - July 2021)
I have so many questions. I know I shouldn’t but I have to get this down on paper. My head! Dean I need you here, you’d wrap me up in your arms and tell me what to do next.
I’ve been told more. A terrifyingly intense police chief has visited me today. Tabitha Penhalligon. She’s informed me that there’s a possibility of a personal motive behind all this?
Dean, I’m terrified again. I thought I was coming to terms with being caught up in an awful crime but there’s more to all of this. The police are still gathering more information.
Tabitha has told me you are safe. But even if you wanted to, you can’t visit me. That kills me. The not knowing where you are, the being unable to have you here. I take a little comfort knowing that, that decision is out of your hands for now. But as soon as you can decide, I hope I see you again. It’s all I’m opening my eyes for each morning. I can’t remember anything. If I hurt you physically or worse, emotionally, I’m so desperately sorry. At least physical wounds can heal. Hearts are more complex. Help me.
Tabitha stated that the personal motive may be rooted in revenge? For what? I know I’m a head case but what could I possibly have done to warrant someone putting me through what they did? Putting so many people in danger?
I’ve learned that there’s two more people here with me in this medical facility. They’re involved somehow.
It doesn’t feel like a conventional hospital now I think about it. It’s quiet and there are security personnel everywhere. I don’t know if I’m in a cell or a ward now. It’s like my world has exploded all over again. Tabitha assured me her and her team are making enquiries and they will not rest until this all makes sense.
I wish I could talk to you. Little Peter is here. Do you remember him? You must do, from Berlin? He interned with me years ago, remember he just all of sudden disappeared from our lives? Dean he’s been hurt. Badly. He’s not conscious. Apparently he’s been shot. He may survive but it’s too early to tell. I’m heartbroken even if we have become complete strangers. You know me, I love everyone.
Another name, Drew? I don’t even think I’ve ever met a Drew, ever. They were both in there with me. Wherever ‘there’ is. This whole ordeal is a blank. It makes me shudder as to what may have happened to me and I don’t even have a memory of any of it.
Drew was shot as well. He’s healing but it’s early days for him apparently too. What the hell is going on? Was I meant to be shot? Am I not supposed to be here? Does this mean this is unfinished and I’ll have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life?
Tabitha even said that as we speak, they’re attempting to ‘neutralise’ suspects. Whatever the hell that means. What on earth has happened? I know my mind wonders from time to time but I think I’d remember being involved in something like this.
Dean, you know me better than anyone. I know I’m too much for some people, even you, when you broke up with me all those years ago. But what have I done? I never want to hurt people. All I want to do is help and love everyone around me. That’s me. The core of who I am. Despite this world being pretty damn horrible to me over the years. Continues to be so it seems.
My head is aching now. I don’t know what to think. I thought I was beginning to make some semblance of sense about this but it’s like a new bomb has blown everything to pieces again.
I’m thinking as much as I can, who out of everyone who is in or has passed through our lives feels this level of hatred toward me that they wanted me dead?
I’m looking at the wall. Everyone we know is in front of me. Faces I’ve loved, fought with, reconciled with. I don’t know. It’s awful. Can I trust anyone I’ve ever known?
I need to write this down. Forgive me. Can I trust you? There. I’ve said it. I don’t want to put that question out into orbit but none of this makes sense. I hope it burns up in the atmosphere before it reaches you. Of course I trust you but when you have no answers, the mind plays tricks on you. Maybe this is part of the plan? Make me paranoid. Maybe they, whoever they are, are still fucking winning.
There’s obviously one person in all this it can’t be. He saved me. That I do know. I saw his face. Is he the only person I can actually trust right now? Forgive me again. But I have nothing. I have to write these people down. Who do I miss? I thought I missed people before but I have never felt a longing for people like this. Ever. It’s a physical pain on my chest. Pushing down. Stopping me from breathing properly. Please ‘flatten this city’ as you promised over the years. Dean I’m calling for help!
Big Boy, Mama, Dad, Ali, Gabby, Lars, Trix, Harry, your parents, Em, Georgie (kiss him for me), Arthur (kiss him too), Lee, Henry. This list is impossible to complete.
I feel like I’m in a sealed box and I can’t get out. I can’t run. Just run away somewhere and leave this all behind.
If or when (please choose when) I see you again, know that I wrote that question to you down out of desperation. This pad and pen is all I’ve got for everything right now. The good, the bad and the ugly, all recorded here.
I need to rest now. My internal injuries are healing, my head injuries too. But I’m in pain everywhere. It hurts to breathe. I’m not out of the woods apparently, myself. But I’m hopeful and the medical people are too. You should see me now. A bruised and bloody mess.
Burst through those doors and shout my name, Trouble!
You’re the only person from my life I ever need to count on. Please come back and run away with me.
I love you. My Big Boy.
