As I ate lunch this afternoon, my hallucinations increased drastically. It's been a little more than a week since I gave birth to my twins. It's also been a little more than a week since my first twin died.
Allegedly.
I don't see any signs of him around, of course. But I can't shake the feeling that he's alive, somewhere. And as of late I've started trying to trust my instincts more. If any of this strange situation taught me anything.
Suki, my little girl, is most certainly no normal child. Maybe it's the things they pumped into me while I was pregnant - Or the things they pumped into her, only a day after she came out.
I eat silently, watching her play by herself in the sand pit in the corner of my room. All I can think of when I see her is the fact that I may have created a monster, and my hallucinations seem to all agree.
Yes. All three of them.
Over the time i've been in the asylum my PTSD induced brain has forgotten most of her award winning psychological knowledge, after all what good is knowing how bad you fucked up? How bad you were broken because of your stupidity. But I know schizophrenia and psychosis anywhere.The three uncanny versions of me I'm sure aren't real, just more hallucinations. One in a clean lab coat, one covered in blood wearing rags and the last one, the last one creeps me out the most, her red eyes glow with a weird thing a kin to lust and hunger, part of her face is covered in ropes, she's always in a torn version of the skirt and button down top i wore when i first got here. Along her collarbone, an inscription 'Mikado's whore'.
They're always arguing. The major reason for my constant migraines.
But today they seemed to all agree on one thing.
[You. created. A . monster]
[It's all your fault]
[You created a monster]
[A savage beast waiting to be unleashed]
They haven't stopped reciting the same chant all day since I woke up this morning and she'd grown overnight.
Again.
3 days ago she was sitting up on her own, and had already learned to roll over the day before. Yesterday she could crawl. Now she's the size of a 10 month old baby. At 10 days old..
I have tried hard to tell myself she's fine. Nothing's wrong with her. I mean when she rolled over I assumed she was one of those genius autistic kids that are ahead of other kids. You would think the same when you look at her. Normal light tan skin, thick healthy black baby hair, she has red eyes but so do I, it's a weird rare genetic trait that runs in my family. When my parents adopted Momo she thought our eyes were creepy, but she took a quick liking to my mom, 'cause they had the same light brown eyes.
-Momo. I'll probably never get to see her again. But, maybe this is for the better. Unfortunately, I have no knowledge of her whereabouts or if Mikado already killed her off. I don't know if she ever got to study at the police academy like she wanted. If she ever got to live at all.
A small tap on my foot dragged me out of my train of thought.
Suki placed her hand on my foot and kept staring at me. She does it quite often when she's hungry or thirsty so it's a bit less creepy now.
With all her crazy fast growth, I kind of expected her to start talking already, But she doesn't open her mouth except to eat or drink. Or for checkups.
She has tiny fangs I noticed, but of that I know she got them from her father.
Ah yes. That thing. Mikado.
Well, one thing in particular that I love about Suki, is the fact that she hates Mikado with the entirety of her little heart. She doesn't even call him dad.
I mean she's currently mute, but she loves to draw. Specifically, to paint. And anytime she's drawing and Mikado turns up to pretend to play the part of a responsible man and asks her to draw him, She draws a man sure, but she draws him in some horrible position she learned from watching sparring matches and duels and adds lots of blood. She'll put a caption in her wonderfully wacky kid handwriting 'Mkdo' - she can't spell his name.
One uncanny thing that unsettles me however,is that tiny fact. She loves painting blood. In fact if you buy her paint, the colours she wants most are brown, black white and red.
To make the different shades of blood at different times I realized. Stale blood is darker, more lifeless. And she knows that.
She hasn't clocked one yet.
I keep observing her day and night wondering what she will turn into when she's older.
What she will become.
What will I become at the end of this? Will anything even be left of my sanity?