Dear Diary.

Tuesday, August 30th 1952. Jupiter County Hospital. Chapter 1.

Dear Diary,

My body aches all over, not from the wound Dot has physically inflicted on me, but from the pain of knowing that the one person you care about most in the world could do something so hurtful and cruel to you. I know what I did was wrong. If I could I'd go back and stop this all from happening I would, but I can't take it back now, the damage is done.

I just wish Dot would talk to me. I'm scared of this place, it's the first time we have been out of the farm since I can remember. I don't want to have to go through all this alone. It's funny though, although I've never been alone, I've often been lonely. Especially when Dot gets in one of her moods. But I've a gut feeling this mood'll last much longer than usual. What have I done?

Right now, we're in the secure ward of Jupiter County Hospital. It reeks of antiseptic and that putrid old concoction mother used to clean the cabinets at home. The walls are cold here. I miss the warmth of the farm. They have us sealed off in a guarded room where no one can get in apart from the hospital personnel, so that means no visitors. Although, we don't have anyone to visit us, so that's not such a loss.

He found us, Phil Palmer, our milkman. Although he didn't know we existed. No one did. Mother kept us hidden away because she was ashamed that she had birthed such an abomination. He was dropping of the milk on our porch when he noticed there was still some from the day before, untouched. He came in to investigate and found mother in the kitchen. He said he heard us running to hide in the closet. I could barely move then, after what Dot had done to me, she had to drag me along with her. That's when he found us.

They've been doing all sorts of tests here. X-rays, blood tests, you name it. It's terrifying. I just want to leave and be out in the sun. I can't stand the way the people stare at us, the way they talk about us like we can't here them. We do have four ears!

I can't believe this is all happening. It was just a few days ago that Dot and I were helping mother harvest the crops before the season was over. I know I wanted to pack up and leave the house, but I never expected it to be under these circumstances. My life seems to be swirling through a whirlpool like a ship in a storm, but as mother used to say; after every storm, there's a rainbow.

---

Dot still won't talk to me, to make things worse a woman named Elsa Mars came into our room while we were taking a nap, dressed in this red and white candy striper outfit. She was beautiful, she had curly golden hair, dark green eyes and a German accent. She was so glamorous, like a movie star. And the best thing about her was that she didn't shudder or repulse when she saw us, like the others here at the hospital.

Plain Jane didn't take to kindly to her barging in on us. But I didn't mind, I loved the company. She told us stories about her past as a performer, and she even told us that she once crossed paths with Bettie Garble! Oh my, she must've had a lot more stories. But she was more interested in us, asking us about ourselves. Why, she even asked us if we were virgins! She was so forward, but it's nice to have someone to talk to about things like that. That ticked Dot off, I could feel it. She was down to earth is all.

She had to leave, well, truthfully, Dot told her to leave. But she said she'd be back. Oh, I hope it's soon, I don't think I can stand to be alone with someone who wants nothing more than for me to be dead.

~Bette Tattler

Dear Diary,

I realise it's been some time since I've last written in you, a lot has being going on, and still is. Amidst all the chaos though I do find myself in solitude at the moment, apart from the usual parasitic leach I have stuck to me. I mulled things over as I said I would the other night. I needed to think of a plan. I decided to kill two birds with one stone.

We needed a alibi regarding our mothers death, as I knew we'd be found sooner or later, although I'd rather it be the latter of the two, as I still haven't got the story straight with Bette, and the detectives are arriving from the station at noon tomorrow. I just can't talk to her right now, after what she has done. I decided to punish both Bette and myself by stabbing her with a scissors, that way we could claim that when we tried to stop the murderer from killing mother, he retaliated and fled.

Oh God. What have our lives become. I long for the tranquility of the farm, the fresh air. This hospital will be the death of me. Mother was right, we were safer sheltered away from the cruelty of society. I don't think I'll ever forgive Bette. I've blocked her out of my head for the time being, I need to be with my thoughts and think things over. Everything's going to change now. I can feel our end watching over us like a hawk.

---

I can't believe how much of a goddamn idiot Bette is sometimes. Of all the people to be eternally stuck with, why her? My life is a cosmic joke.

We were awoken by some crazy old candy striper, Elsa Moon, or something like that. She came in, with her dreadful eyebrows and started pestering us with all these questions, going on about how she wanted to be a star. Who runs this place? Honestly, from the second I saw her, I knew she was a phoney. She was angling for something. I knew because of the way she looked at us, like a child in a toy store. She didn't run away like everyone else, I'll give her that, but I don't trust her.

Then out of the blue she asked us if "anyone had tasted our cherry pie" in her semi German accent. Who does that? I had it when Bette started divulging in her disgusting personal life with her new gal pal. God. What a load of sluts. I told her to get out and leave us alone, but I know it won't be the last I see of her. She won't stop until she has what she needs.

~Dot Tattler