by S. E. Mabson
Short Shots Entry (She named her journal Robin)
| Word Count: 1998
The Journal of Mahlia Wellson
October 12, 2020
Green eyes. Long lashes. (Why do men always get the long, beautiful lashes? Ugh.) My gosh, Robin, that smile, and don't get me started on his dimples. Ah, someone must be throwing water on me because I'm melting faster than the wicked witch of the East! I don't remember anything that happened last night, but that face is engraved, etched, hammered, I tell you, hammered into the deepest depths of my memory banks. Idk if I can call it love, but it is certainly enough to leave me on cloud 900 despite the fact yet another night has come and gone and taken my memories with it.
Oh, Robin, I wish I could remember more. Did I see him across the room and our gaze locked in lingering a little too long or not long enough? I mean, seriously, you should have seen his face, girl! Did we bump into each other in the park, realize we had something in common, start strolling through the park, sit on a bench talking and watching the sunset, and then rise again. Nah, that's too cliche, right? That doesn't happen in real life, does it? Maybe we danced chest to chest, hearts beating in sync until the sun came up. Then I turned all Cinderella in the sunlight. His princely expression must have traumatized me into amnesia. I don't even remember where I was last night. I honestly could have been binge-watching tv and seen him out the window and got caught staring! LoL, I hope I wasn't drooling! Seriously though, what am I going to do about this?
I’m lashing out, spouting knowledge through anger or sadness I didn’t even know I held. The worst is when someone comes to me about something important, they have clearly already told me, and I’m totally clueless. No, the worst is the sudden dread or even terror of something random (I never know why I am even scared of it), and everyone is looking at me like I’m the looney lady with a sixth sense. Mom said I’m becoming unstable and should see a therapist: Robin, I don't know about all that. Something is definitely...off. But what is there really to talk about? LOL, I literally talk to you every day about this. Ironic, I know. I can feel your judgment seeping through the pages. Seriously though, If I told someone, especially a therapist, I'd be hiding pills under my pillow by noon the next day. Yeah, I'm good telling you about my random amnesia, and well, you know, the nightmare visions. I hope you feel special, Robin. They say dogs are man's best friend; well, Journals are a crazy lady's best friend—Goodnight, for now, Bestie.
October 15, 2020
Robin, I’m sure you can tell by the salty water soaking into your pages that today was NOT a good day. It wasn’t even a bad day. That’s too simplistic. That doesn’t capture the terrible essence of today, heck, my life! In the last two days, I’ve spent most of my time hyper-focused on every shadow, every dark corner, every person whose smile seemed to rise too high. It’s creepy when the corners of the lips slowly rise to their peaks. Ominous. I haven’t slept in two days, TWO DAYS, Robin. TWO! My brain just won’t rest! It’s barely functioning at all. It knows. My mind, I mean. It’s coming. I know it’s coming. I don’t know what exactly, but I can feel it. I can feel its eyes searing into me like it’s trying to see inside. Great, it has X-Ray vision! No chance of it missing my heart when it tries to gut me! Ok, that was morbid, but still, I can feel its essence warming my skin, tickling the baby hairs on my neck and arms. THERE IS NEVER ANYONE THERE.
Now, Robin, please tell me how to explain being stalked by hot, stinky air that you KNEW was coming because you’ve had nightmares of it getting closer and closer to a therapist! Or the fact many of those nightmares were trances that felt so real I think they might have been. I had bruises on my chest, legs, arms to prove it. Terror! That’s it! That’s an excellent way to describe the past couple of days. It was full of terror. I’m so afraid to close my eyes. I fear it may be right in front of me, staring me down when I open them again. Afraid I will finally see what is chasing me, beckoning me closer, pulling me in like a cow being wrangled in a rodeo.
My feet were told to run, but I am unable to pull away. I haven’t given into it. I just feel, hmmm, It’s like driving past a burning building. Your heart races, and the suspense builds as your eyes quickly explore the scene. That’s when you realize either you have slowed down significantly or you are about to hit something with your car. Well, that’s how I feel. I’m not running into the burning building, but I can’t seem to turn away from it yet. Still, I fear looking away may be what it wants. You know, for me to close my eyes and pretend it isn't still looming over me, waiting for its chance to ambush me. I don’t know how much longer I’ll last with no sleep. Something in my gut is saying, no screaming, STAY AWAKE! I don't know if it's fear or if it’s my broken memories. WHY CAN’T I REMEMBER! Do I want to? Goodbye, for now, Bestie.
October 16, 2020
Robin, I’m still awake. It is 11:45 p.m., and I can feel myself drifting, just not to sleep. I feel like I’m moving, but my surroundings are perfectly still. My hands feel like they’re shaking, but nothing. It’s like my mind is responding to a sweet lullaby sung by a Disney princess. My psyche is searching for the origin of the beautiful sound and leaving my body behind. I almost closed my eyes. Then I saw you lying on my nightstand next to my bed, which I am heavily avoiding, by the way. Anyway, I knew you could help me. It’s pulling me into a trance. I don’t hear anything, but I can feel it. These trances never go well. I wake up alone in strange places, and I am always injured. Save me, Robin. I can’t do this anymore. Magically imprint a spell to vanquish my demons and rid me of my torment. No? Can’t you do that? I guess I knew that. You may not be able to make magic demon-slaying spells appear, but you are fantastic at stopping trances. Now I know how to stop them. I need to focus on something other than its siren call. It’s 12:05 a.m., time for coffee number 14. Bring on the jitters and Netflix.
P.S. Sorry about getting your pages wet again! Have I ever mentioned how great of a best friend you are? Good-bye, for now, Bestie!
October 17, 2020
Robin, girl, I saw McDreamy! Girl, I stopped dead in my tracks. When whoever was behind me bumped into me and mumbled off some agitation, his smile embraced my eyes once again. Ok, yeah, I saw how corny that swoon was. Anyway, we locked eyes, and he winked at me! We didn’t get a chance to talk, but his gaze stayed on me until we were both swept away in the downtown pedestrian traffic. That smile is forever etched into my memory. Not even my broken memory system can make me forget that Masterpiece God made.
Even though remembering his smile has been a great escape from the...thing. I can’t help but feel like I know him. I don’t mean like I just met him the other day and forgot the night. I mean, I feel like my stolen (broken, forgotten, withheld, whatever!) memories are about him. I can feel it. We didn’t meet four days ago, I know it! His vibe, aura, or whatever was too familiar to be new. Do you think he may know something about this thing? Maybe he is my guardian angel! I need some coffee on that note. These eyeballs won't stay open on their own much longer. Thanks for always making me feel better, Robin. Goodbye for now, Bestie!
October 29, 2020
So, I know it’s been a while since we talked, but after you helped me realize I just needed to focus on something else, I did. I opened the blinds and embraced the sun, ate some real food, and went back to work. You will never guess who I saw at work! McDreamy! His real name is Silas Wolfe. The name felt so familiar, but I couldn't place it. He doesn’t work there, though. I got to speak to him, and we have been inseparable since. I don’t have much time to elaborate; I need to get ready for our next date. I just needed to tell you I know who he is finally. AMAZING! That’s who he is, simply amazing, complexly amazing. AMAAAAAAAAAAZING! Did I just make that up? Complexly. I don’t know, maybe that’s love talking. I hear it makes you do and say crazy stuff! Anyways, I have been in the sky soaring with the birds so much I completely forget about the...thing. I even went to sleep. Something about him just makes me feel so safe. We watched a movie, and I was wrapped in his small but secure arms and drifted off. AND NOTHING HAPPENED! Not even a bad dream. All I could think about was a future with Silas, and every night since actually. WOW, I'm sprung. Well, I’m going to get dressed for my hot date. Goodbye, for now, Bestie!
October 31, 2020
Robin, it happened again. The nightmare! At least I think I was asleep. The...thing...got through to me again. I saw her hovering over me, just looking at me. No, she was staring through me. Inside me? Eww! That just gave me goosebumps thinking about it. She looked like me but...dead, like a zombie skeleton. She had skulls orbiting around her, me. I knew it was me. I could sense her trying to connect with me. I just couldn’t tell if it was a good connection or a bad one that she was trying to make. Her face was frozen, emotionless, giving away no clues of her intention, just staring. I scanned the room for Silas with only my eyes. I was too terrified to move my head even so much as a millimeter. I didn’t know what she, it, (me?) was capable of doing. But, I could have sworn Silas, and I was on the couch watching a scary movie seconds before she appeared. I don’t know how I ended up in the bed underneath my dead self, or why she was wearing the black witches costume I bought for the Halloween Party tonight, or why she was emitting black misty smoke. I now understand the expression ‘smelled like death,’ though. My nostrils still burn, and it was a dream, I think. I’m still not sure. This room still feels so cold. Reality? Vision? Dream? Crazy Lady? Death date? Goodbye, for now, Bestie. Hopefully.
November 1, 2020
I can’t get it out. I’ve scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, but I can’t get it out. I hit him, Robin, hard. The apprentice. Every memory just made me even more furious. The...thing, it was my memories. Silas took them, but he messed up. Magic has a price, they say. It’s all over me. His blood is all over...everything. How could he do this to me! How could he sleep with them! The full moon, Halloween it all came back to me. I let her in...the thing...my memories. Evil. Halloween’s full moon embraced me, and I released my fury; I’ve joined the family of sinister misfits. Goodbye, forever, Bestie.