Entry 2

ENTRY 2

<i>September 7, 2017</i>

Ok let me tell you what this is. This is not some diary, I don't write diaries. Let's call this a journal...I'll use this for my kill count.

I'm joking, I'm joking. Totally joking.

Should I do an introduction? I'm not too sure how this works. Am I supposed to write like someone is reading or...y'know what I think I'll just go with the flow.

I'm Veruna. Yes, the same Veruna you read in my first entry, the only difference is I'm not 6 anymore. I'm 17, I know that's a big time jump. A lot happens in 11 years.

My mom is still alive, don't worry I'm not a murderer. I just happen to be a tad different from other kids my age. I would like to call myself unique.

My mom did wake up from her coma and she did have brain damage. They expected her to have lost a lot of her memories. Good thing she didn't forget me. As soon as she woke up and saw me, she kept yelling out demon over and over again. The doctors had to take me out of her room because they worried her health would deteriorate. She was in no way able to take care of herself, much less me.

So we got a caretaker, you may as well basically call her my mom because for 9 years of my life Ms. Mandy took the role of my caregiver. Oh, did I mention her name was Ms. Mandy? She was really beautiful. She was fairly old, the wrinkles on her face were clearly visible. She wasn't one to share her age but she looked about 40...50 at most. However, she could easily pass for 30. She had fiery red hair that made her green eyes shine bright. Her freckles covered most of her face and I sometimes liked to call her strawberry because of how closely she resembled one. At times, I truly wish she was my mother. She accepted my odd side instead of ridiculing it. She always told me how my golden eyes were pretty rather than comparing them to that of a demon. By the time I turned 15, Ms. Mandy left and told me I was old enough to care for my mother myself. She left me nothing but her phone number which she has yet to answer whenever I call.

Maybe all that affection was fake, maybe she looked at me just as the others did. All I know is that she was really sweet.

Once again it was just my mom and I. She still shakes, cries, and at times scream when it's time for me to give her her meals and medications. Frankly, it's hilarious. How could someone be so afraid of her own child, hah. She can deny it as much as she likes but she needs me. Without me she has no purpose and her sole purpose is to hate me.

Today I had to give her her medication like I do every single day. However, when I walked into her room with her meal and medicine. I saw she wasn't there. She could barely walk, so I was confused as to how she even managed to get out of bed.

I searched the house and heard a sound around the living room area. I saw my mom crawling and struggling on the floor. She was headed for the back door.

"Mommy, what are you doing down there?" I said and slowly walked towards her.

My mom turned around and I saw her eyes expand as she saw me. She tried to crawl faster and I almost broke out into laughter as I heard her wails as she struggled to reach the door.

I walked over her and grabbed her hair. I went up close to her ear. "Mommy," I whispered, "remember when I did this 9 years ago, huh? Look what it led to mommy. I think you know it's best if you don't resist."

"Let go of me! Let go of me!! You-you goddamn demon!" She yelled and struggled to free her hair from my grasp.

I grabbed her hair harder, reeled it back and then slammed it onto the floor.

I slightly smiled as I saw her wince in pain. "I told you to stop didn't I? Please don't make me hurt you mommy."

I saw her shaking and letting out soft cries. I pulled her into a hug. "It's okay mommy. Everything is ok. You'll always have me."

We solved things out. She won't act out again. I promise you I'm not crazy, she's the one that provokes me. I do love my mom. We are all that we have.