Stranger's Diary

Yet. Here.

last night stole my rest.
I looked at the clock, it's 1:17 pm. I've been laying in bed, shoved in the corver almost all day. The image of his hand in mud on my window still freaks me out. The veins in my eyes throbbed. They burnt as if a dry hand held them all night. Speaking of burn, i wish he would, i wish the hole he dug for that mud went back with him. I don't know what to do, or even go from here. I'm stuck. Literally, there is no where else i can go without feeling his eyes reading my thoughts and feelings. If the police wouldn't bother, who else would?

Yauneh.

She ran across my mind faster than the trust she took from me.

"I have no other choice"

Yauneh might or might not return my call. I wouldn't blame her. When last have we talked? I wonder if she still remembered what she did with our friendship?

I hesitated to call, it might have been a good idea, but everthing else i did so far seemed like a good idea. And look where i ended up.

"Please pick up" i whispered to myself, as if he was still there. I am not even certain if he did leave, what can i do? If Yauneh does not pick up i'll be stuck here in my thoughts and.....

"Hello?"
The sudden voice over the phone which ended the trail of thoughts i had of doubt and regret startles me. I was sweating in guilt. I only called her because i needed someone to help me out of this, and only her because i had no other choice.
"Yauneh" i said to my self
"Hello? Who is this"
Im not surprised she does not recognize me.
"Y... yauneh... i ..."
"Hello? I don't have all day"
The feelings i had in me were too strong. I couldn't speak over the lump of remorse and guilt i had in my throat, the only response she heard over the phone was my tears, the pain of our past tore me apart, i tore and i am bleeding from the inside.
"Yauneh im sorry"
And what have i done? I was apologizing to myself for her. Why am i treating myself like this?
"Um, ok i, i'm gonna go now. I don't have time for this..."
"Wait!"
"Why who is this?!"
"It's me"
"..."
"I need your help"
I couldn't bring myself to tell her my name. I couldn't risk the chances of her not tolerating my call.
"Are you a client?"
Client? I wonder what became of her since she left me. . .
"Yauneh, it's, Y...Yukki. Im stuck here and i don't know what to do. There is someone, i don't know who"

The line was quiet for a brief moment. Had she pity on me? I did not care. She is my only hope.

"Uh, Yukki?... oh! Yukki, you. How can i not realize its you, the usually weird one. Why'd you call? Whatever it is i cannot. I'm at furlow's party tonight"

The usual perfect Yauneh.

"..You'll be coming right?..."

Does she not believe me?

"...it's tonight at the villa, 10pm, everyone's invited..."

Did she hear what i said?

"...I don't expect you to come though, considering every other time i've tried to get you out that hole"

Did she even try to listen?

"Okay Yauneh, thank you for telling me. Bye.

I was so disappointed.

"Bye sweety!"

And thats that. The help i was depending on couldn't even remember my name. I slam my phone, without care about how it would be damaged by the forceful hit. I burry my face in the pillow and cried. I wish i was buried. I knew staying here would affect my emotional health, everything i did affected my emotional health. So my therapist thinks. If i stay here it would drive me CRAZY. I got up and headed to the kitchen, still, trying to avoid the stained windows.
The second the refrigerator doors were open, i grabbed the first and last thing i saw and gobbled it down. I was too hungry. I was starving. Eating was an excuse for me to forget the problems i was stuck in, used to distract me from myself. It wasn't easy forgetting the person i was. the thing everyone scorned.

I headed towards the living room, after placing the ice-cream bucket back into the freezer. Dragging my weary body, worn out, tired of this, tired of being tired of things, my stomach ached after all the food i engulfed at once.

I stand at the window, facing the muddy palm print. I imagined him there.

He wasn't even sane enough to be recognized as a human being. Who would do such a thing? What heartless.

As i lift my shaking hand, the small hand that held nothing but innocence, forced to take hold the existence of the fantasy love this man had for me, i placed it directly inline of his print . . . His print. What if it fits, what if the shape of my hand fitted his. Maybe thats why he loved me at first sight. Maybe he needs me.

Thats why i'm running... Maybe.

Stuck.