Where did I lose that diary? Well, at least I think, that I lost it. But why now am I recalling those words? I can still picture them shapes of the letters written within; minuscule and with serifs. Cramped line after cramped line. No punctuation. Did I ever learn his name? Was it Darvey? Must have been Darvey... and let's say Richardson, yes, that sounds good. Darvey Richardson. Can you hear me? I thought not. Why? Because you are dead. You have been for quite sometime now, but in case you didn't know, I thought to remind you... or... am I actually reminding myself?
Darvey, I met you once, before your death. Briefly. Then you were gone, and I watched you as your mangled corpse rose, convulsing, up from the pavement. I gently held your face within my decayed hands. I stroked your cheek with my bony finger. You didn't react. Deep I peered into your eyes and found nothing... then... then in a fit of rage I shoved you from me. I smacked you as hard as I could, over and over and over again. I blurbled or roared choked roars at you. I shoved my fingers into your agape mouth, goading you to take a bite of me. But you wouldn't. You simply stood there, vacant and ignorant of my existence. I shoved you again and as I stormed away, I hope it looked stormy, I swore I was done with you. You were not Darvey Richardson any longer. You had become just another statistic.
But you weren't. Not really. You were a memory. And I stole yours from your diary. Ingesting them inside of me you became a part of me. And even after I left you to stand amongst your new flock, you still lingered in my brain. Your diary was short and left me feeling... I don't feel.
Don't deny that I do.
Which; deny or feel?
I hated him even though I didn't know him.
I read his diary
——————————you were a blight on my sanctuary. I couldn't ignore the death that roamed outside the library walls knowing you were one of them. I tried reading again, but you infiltrated my thoughts as I read. You nagged at my subconsciousness while I pried open my phone to replace it's battery. Your form appeared in shadows cast a through the library at dusk. The emptiness of your eyes burnt after images into my retinas. Why were you still here? Why did you haunt me so?
Don't confuse the matter. You know what you did. Just look outside at the pile of ashes and charred bones left alone in the street.
What happened to the others?