November 10, 1980
These cameras creep me out. What a way to start off, but yeah for some reason these cameras have been moving a lot more lately. Considering there are only 9 people here, I suppose it makes sense to try and monitor the last few that are left here, but whenever they do watch specific people like Riley or Hope, it always stays stuck on them. It's so odd because cameras usually go around the room to watch. Before coming here, I had worked at a convenience store. It's not that important since I couldn't keep that job for more than a week because I just couldn't stand my boss. However, the cameras at the store moved left and right and kept doing that for an unlimited amount of time. The cameras here move to the left then stop to watch someone and then to the right to watch someone again and that's mostly how it goes. It feels so off and it makes me think of someone watching us. A little too much. I wish I had more to go off of, but this is as much as I can have right now. Besides the cameras though, I had learned more about Hope than I actually expected to. About that bandaid from last time, she had taken it off today and she did in fact have a cut on her nose. It seemed like though it left a little white mark on her face which wasn't that noticeable because she is a slightly darker next to a white girl, but if you are up close you could probably notice. Whatever the case was, I felt intrigued to know what really happened. Tripping doesn't leave a mark like that on someone's face. I'm not much of the pushy type, but luckily for me I didn't have to go up to her and intrude because she hangs out with me most of the time. I know she likes to draw a lot. She said she always wanted to be an artist, but because her parents didn't like the idea of her dream, she decided to settle in as a lawyer to appease them, but she was never into being one so she never really got good grades from it. Her mother and father were livid with her, so now I can tell why her friend probably told her about this place. Maybe they thought she needed a vacation from her pushy ass family. So every now and then she draws characters or just people in general. One time she drew me and I will admit, the drawing was very accurate and it just surprised me her own parents did not approve of this amazing talent she had. I thought I was the only one with parents issues here. Anyways, back to the mark though, I decided to bring it up to her. Me and her were sitting on top of my bed. While she drew, I was just reading some random book I had gotten, something about nature or whatever. I don't know, it was pretty boring, so I mainly stared at the words.
"You know, I think writing in your journal is pretty cool!" Hope said randomly, staring at her little drawings. I rose an eyebrow and asked,
"Why's that?" She looked up with a sincere smile.
"Because writing about personal things is like a stepping stone, you can turn them into stories," she explained, doodling absentmindedly before continuing.
"When you write about things you've experienced, or even small fictional moments, those are stories in themselves. Everything you put in your notebook, whether it's personal or not, can grow into something bigger over time." I blinked, but it made sense to me. I just never thought of it like that.
"Ok, make sense I suppose, but why do you tell me this?" I questioned.
"Because I have been thinking, if we ever get out here. I want to make a story and make characters that millions, upon millions could see. I've always dreamed of that being reality. Although, I'm not a very good story maker. I'm just a drawer." she explained, a little embarrassed she couldn't make a proper story, however that completely switched up as she looked at me with an excited expression as she continued on,
"That's where you come in!" I tilted my head in confusion.
"Me?" I asked before Hope nodded.
"You are always right in that journal of yours. You definitely have the potential to be a story writer, and that book is proof!" she said, happily.
"Yeah but these are just my personal experiences, I doubt anyone would want to read whatever the hell I have in there." I said, trying to shut down this "master writer" thing Hope had on me, but she shook her head vigorously.
"Just because you think that, doesn't mean everyone will think the same. Like I said, everything you put in your notebook, whether it's personal or not, can grow into something bigger over time. All you need to do is believe you can do it and if you do that, then you'll have an easier time in making potential become a skill!" she stated determinedly. Those words resonated with me a lot. I've never had someone tell me I can do things if I just believed I could. When I grew up, I was always taught to do what others wanted me to do for them. To be completely honest, I didn't even really want to come here. I know it's obvious but I have to admit, there was more to why I came here. I didn't want to rely on my mother and father's house for me. My father always found a way to make me do something for him. I know I was a kid, and didn't do much, but I had aspirations and goals I had in mind, even at such a young age. I've always wanted to find a purpose to live without having it involve my parents. However my dad always assisted me working as a police officer. It wasn't because he wanted me to help others and stuff, but rather it was for the money. He believed the police made bank and thought if I got a job as one, I'll be rich and support him and my mother. It's never ever been me, in fact sometimes it was never even for my mother either. Just for him, and only him. That's why I refuse to go back to them. I do care about my mother, even if I may struggle to show or feel love for her, but I just can't go back to living with my dad, who's made me go through the ringer. To me, I think Hope's words were something I needed to hear.
"Hmm, well… I suppose you have a point." I said, my face turning from stoic to understanding. I continued on,
"I'll consider it, but only on one condition." I said, before Hope could clap her hands in excitement.
"Oh, what is it then? I'm sure I can meet that condition." she said, happily.
"Well, I want you to tell me how you actually got that scar on your nose." I said, bluntly. It shocked Hope, it made her freeze. She didn't expect something like that, and I wasn't gonna let her change the subject or make up a bullshit excuse. She sighed,
"I-I don't think you should worry about that." she said, trying to push off my question, but I didn't let her.
"Don't hide from me. I know very well what a liar is, and I know when you lie. Tell me now, I'm taking any room for a lie or excuse. If you want to become partners in this dream of yours, then you must tell me what actually happened." I said, becoming more pushy. I saw the uneasiness with Hope as if she was afraid to speak up. She sighed, looking like she was stuck.
"I…I…" she stuttered, before giving me what I wanted,
"I didn't trip… I did this to myself on purpose." she answered.
"How'd that happen?" I asked. She gulped before confessing everything,
"I cut my nose when I was in the bathroom… I… I have depression and I didn't know how to deal with it, so I cut myself stupidly because I was so scared and disgusted at the fact I killed people and I can't go back and apologize for what I did. I feel so forced no matter where I go, I feel disappointed every time I wake up. As I just don't believe I deserve to live in a world I hurt. I don't know why I'm like this, I'm sorry." Some accustomed silence filled the air. It felt deep, to know someone who tried to take their own life, believing everything was their fault. Why did it feel so at home? I don't know.
"Why did you hide this? Does Evelyn know?" I asked.
"She told me she's seen some signs, but I don't think she is aware of the fact I hurt myself, I would rather keep it that way. I don't want to burden anybody with my problems." she said softly, feeling ashamed. I felt like I could see her tears starting to well up in her eyes. I sighed, knowing I asked for this, so I needed to fix this.
"You have friends here that will listen to you. Who wants to hear about what pains you. If anything, you're not a burden. Just broken, but you can always be mended by people who care about you so much." I explained. I looked down, trying to make sure I knew what I wanted to say. I knew doing this was gonna be hard, but I did before with Harrison consciously, so why should this be different, right?
"Growing up, I was never able to talk about how I felt. I was taught to keep everything to myself and toughen up, crying was for the weak. I always kept everything in, till I grew numb to pain. Till feelings meant nothing to me. I was willing to hurt people and felt no remorse for it and just made excuses to justify all the things I did. It worsened when I lost my brother and then later lost my grandparents. I thought I was a lost cause, until I met Riley who honestly helped me change a lot, more than I'd like to admit. Then, I met you and Evelyn and things became… easier. I felt like for once in my life, I felt more than just nothing. Feeling more emotions than at any time in my life." I said. Putting my hand to my heart, I continued on,
"Anger, concern, sadness… Joy. There's so much more to me now, and for the first time. I didn't feel alone. I felt… Loved. Maybe, instead of looking at all the negatives in your life, maybe you can focus on the people that make you whole." I finished and it felt relieving to let everything go. Hope was stunned in thought, it looked like my words got to her so at least it worked. Then, to my surprise I seen the faintest blush on her face,
"Franklin, I-" before she was able to finish, a few of the orange guards came into the room, their footsteps sounding like army soldiers. Everyone who was in the bed area paused in fear. I grimaced, having to deal with them again has gotten annoying to me. One of the men in the orange suits spoke,
"The games will start tomorrow. This will be your last game before your final game." To say everyone was shocked was an understatement. To all of us, we thought we'd never hear the words "final" and "game" in a sentence. The orange guards then walked off, as they threw out this huge bombshell. Everyone was quiet, but I felt a sense of determination. If this was the last game before the final one, then that means that there is a way home for me. I could feel it from everyone else too. I just need to live longer is all. I looked at Hope and she looked at me.
"So? If we make it out alive, would you like to be my partner?" she asked, giving a smile of determination. For once, my stoic face turned and gave off the slightest smile.
"You can't have a story with just an artist after all." I said. Hope's eyes softened as she never let go of her smile she had plastered on her lips. For once, the room felt so hopeful. It was almost relieving.