Dear Diary;

It is been 68 days.  Sixty. Eight. Days. I am a prisoner. There’s been no ransom demand, he hasn’t tried to assault me, still, I’m a prisoner in this hovel, this shack. I am going to die here. I’m going to die alone. I don’t think my friends and family know where I am. I haven’t been to work and yet no one has tried to find me. I have been forgotten.

I’m hiding this diary from him because I think when I’m dead, perhaps someone will find this Journal. My last testament. Proof I was here. He feeds me. I have water. I’m even allowed to shower and sleep in a real bed. I don’t know what he wants. I don’t know what matters anymore.

I’ve begun to question my sanity. Was the life I led before, a dream? Are my memories wrong? I remember large groups of people laughing. I remember crowded sidewalks and arguments with strangers. I remember the smell of cars and cheap perfume. I miss those smells. How did I get here?

I can hear him, my jailer. He’s moving around. Is he the reason I’m being kept here against my will? Have I done something to wrong him? Dear Diary I don’t know what’s real anymore. When I’m able to look out the windows, all I see are trees. There are no people, there are no cars, no buildings. Where am I? He’s coming! Oh, dear God! He’s coming!

“Hey hon? I’m just about to hop in for a quick swim. How about after that I toss a few steaks on the barbecue? The cottage is a great place to sit out the pandemic!”

 

 

33 thoughts on “Dear Diary;

  1. Murphy's Law

    Wonderful Pam. You have expressed universal thoughts and feelings perfectly. Even your painting expresses isolation. We’ve all become painfully aware that we don’t have to be away from civilization to be isolated….a pandemic can physically isolate us from loved ones, strangers, and even the neighbor’s right next door!

    Please be healthy and safe. Maybe when this is all over we can all get together at that cottage and have a hell of a party!! 🤗
    🐾Ginger 🐾

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
  2. Melanie B Cee

    O_o Quite the piece of writing. It echoes many folks, who find this whole long ordeal more than their mental ‘muscles’ can take. A jailer? Well at least she’s got steak. I understand we might not have that for much longer too. Now that? Is horrifying!! Good job!!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
  3. nmartinez1938

    The skin exposure to the sunshine is a healing force, fortified by the waters of the sea. A jailer who needs not keys, an appetite for rich foods, a shack of shelter – there are worse places to die. The view of green living trees, better than the view of cemetery and marble stones. No stopping the wonder of roaming thoughts of before.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
  4. nmartinez1938

    While we are imprisoned, an unwise sentence imposed upon us all, making use of the now – what will nourish our bodies and minds, when freedom hopefully dawns again, insights gained will give us strength, new, and never thought of before.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.