Jacky

9 December 2009 4:15 AM

Jacky walks along the ceiling. His steps echo through the loft space, heavy as his weight pulls up. He looked up, or down, with his white grin reflecting the darkness. He has stopped whispering for now. Decided to keep quiet. Probably till I fall asleep. So he can show me things. Show me what he has done before. What he has given people like me. I’m not a fool Jacky. I know you can read this.

He keeps telling me to go to sleep

I try to ignore him nowadays. His voice is like mine but twisted and scratched like if I were a heavy smoker. It’s just like everything else he took from me. He looks just like me in the light. But, he changes me in little ways to show what I am becoming. His eyes are soulless black spheres like a rag doll’s. They hold nothing but an empty promise of power and the sickening reminder of what he is. I know he can hear what I think as I lie on my back watching him. I also know that he doesn’t need to look over my shoulder as I write. Though he chooses to. Breathing down my spine. Whispering in my ear.

I dare not flick back the pages of this journal anymore. He writes his own little entries. He uses me like a puppet in the night. Pulled into this chair and writing down everything that he plans for me. I dare not look back at them, though I wonder how long it will be before he holds it in front of my face forcing me to read.

           I

A     M

              H           IS

              HOST

I don’t know how long I have been here. He won’t tell me anything. My calendar says the ninth but I don’t know if Jacky’s been messing with it. I swear it was the thirteenth yesterday. Is it even December?

The scales say that I weigh ten stone but I know Jacky doesn’t want me to know that I’m starving because of him. In the mirror he stares back at me, plump and healthy, but I know it’s an illusion when I look down at pale, dead flesh stuck to bone on my breathless chest. He likes to walk around as my younger plumper naked self, promising that if I let him in he’ll make me healthy again. He gets more desperate by the day. He knows I’m dying and he’s scared. Well I’m not angotosleep ok

14 June 2009 3:40PM

I heard another voice this morning. It sounded like a little boy today, though somehow familiar. I checked the loft. It’s completely empty. This is confusing because I thought the photo albums were up there but I’ll check the living room. I’m going to have to stop losing things.

I need to find someone to fix the phone line at some point. I don’t know why it’s not working. Susan said her phone is fine downstairs. This is a pretty crap entry today. What I get for spending my day looking for noises that don’t exist.

31 October 2010 0:15 AM

Jacky got me a lovely Christmas present yesterday. He got me a book on demons. He knows I like books. That’s why I work in the library. Looks like he stole it from China or Thailand or somewhere Oriental. It’s in some Asian language but I understand. Jacky helps that way. He likes showing me pictures telling me that they are like him. The book is by no means pro-demon so I’m guessing that he has given up on convincing me that he’s here to help. He just enjoys my company I guess. Maybe I do too. I weighed three tonnes this morning. I thought it was rather funny. He knows how to make me laugh.

             H      E

                        VISI         T     S 

                                                           T                  O

                                                                                 C   A                 RE

He showed me a picture he drew of a woman being raped by a man in the book. He thought it a nice touch to make the man us and rather crudely made the woman my mother. This was one of his less tasteful jokes. He also made me carve his name into my forearm last night so I think he might be a little uptight about something. I asked him if he wanted to talk about it and he set fire to our blue shirt. He doesn’t show himself much anymore, though he talks plenty. I like that about him. It’s always nice to have someone to talk to.

What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? Swear to God that you wont torture me.

He doesn’t want anything for this Christmas. He still has the watch I gave him for Christmas last week. He said he likes getting me things. They are usually rather good. Though the music he got me was a little confusing. The dead dog last month smelled terrible though it is the thought that counts. Every day is a holiday with Jackyhelooksaftermeandhewillneverletmedie

15 June 2009 6:50PM

No voice today. I can’t seem to find the photo albums. I didn’t go to work today. Feeling ill. Nasty headache and bad cough. They rang to say that they have ordered in some Theology course books for foreign language students and they are finally getting some CDs and records (They listened to me for once!). They said they will send me some in the mail so I can start categorising. I was looking forward to having some time off.

13 February 2010

Iprayedtodaybutitsnotenoughgodcantsaveme I remember the words

HedrivesoutdemonsonlybecausetheirrulerBeelzebulgiveshimthepowertodoso

              H     E

                                           VISI         T     S

              H     E                              L                                       L

      O   N

        M           E

? 2010 9:25PM

I can’t remember anything that has happened in the last week and everything I have written for a past few days have been his little fuckabouts. I know what you are doing Jacky. You are trying to show me that you can control me.

On my desk this morning was a Chinese copy of the Maleus Malificarum. Looking back it seems that Jacky somehow made me able to understand what it said. I’ve never learnt Cantonese. Every picture has my face. Except for one with my mother’s. I wonder if she knows where I am. Has anyone tried to find me here? Maybe Jacky convinced them I’m dead. They probably gave up long ago. I must have been here for months now. I burnt the calendar two weeks ago. There is no point trying to keep track of time anymore. I’ve finally realised that I’m going to be stuck here with Jacky for the rest of my life.

          N          E V           E                                                                          R

A

                   S                                                           O           UL

                     T                                                                          O

                                                                     U              S  E

I have his name carved into my left arm and the wounds seem to be becoming infected. If I’m lucky perhaps I’ll die of gangrene. Though Jacky seems to have found a way to stop me starving. My skin is sunken and grey. I must look like a walking corpse.

There is a copy of the soundtrack for Boito’s Faustus opera on the turntable. Mefistofele it’s called. I went to see it with Karen while we were still married. She didn’t enjoy it so neither did I. I should have listened. Mephistopheles didn’t take Faust’s soul in that version. Seems like a nice idea now. Far more optimistic.

69 Jackyary 2010 98:67JM

Jacky has put a little more effort into fucking with the calendar today. I burnt it just to show him that I don’t give a shit what he does. He wasn’t impressed so he threw a knife at me. It missed though he wouldn’t have planned for it to hit me. If I die he has to find himself someone new. It seems to be my only edge up on him. This may just be my last entry. I made a noose out of the television cable today. If I’m lucky Jacky will be distracted and leave it alone. Though I know you can read this Jacky. You can’t stop me you fucker. You can’t control me. I’ll fuIllbreakyou

              H     E

                                              IS

                     T                                                       H         E

   B                              L   E     S                                     S  E              R

                     S                                                          O         UL

Jacky says that if I like I can die. I told him no. I can’t leave him alone. He is my best friend.

DontworryjackillbewithyouforeverHe will look after me I can’t live without Jacky and he can’t live withoutgotosleepIwillshowyouhappinessburnthenooseandgotosleep

20 June 2009 4:15AM

I saw him again. He was outside the door. I locked up to make sure he can’t get in. He has scratched my name onto the window. Jacky, like Mum called me when I younger and, now that I think about it, she called me it the day before she died. How can he know that about me? Right now I just hope that if this psycho kills me someone will find this and they can use it as evidence to lock him up. They haven’t called to ask why I’m not at work. A whole new set of demonology books were coming in yesterday. They would have needed me to stack them on the shelves. Religion or mythology?

I haven’t got a good look at him but he is tall with dark hair similar to mine. Hell, maybe he is a lost brother or something. Mum kept plenty more secrets from me when she was alive. The fucker is tapping on the window. I’ll catch him and take a photo.

heisme

2010?

The noose is round my neck Jacky boy. You may have stopped responding when I talk to you but I know that you read this. You can see everything I see. You’re inside me. Well now I’m going to take away the last thing I have and I’m not going to let you keep my empty shell to play with. By the time you read this I’ll be hanging from the ceiling and you will be sent back to your hell and you can stay there you son of a bitch. My name is Jack Colson and someone out there will remember me. No one will remember you.

The angels will save me from us. You gave me the book Jacky. You can’t take away memory and I have always had the words in me. I’ve put the pieces together and translated it. I am beyond the constraints of language. You’ve taken away my speech but you can’t stop my pen.

We Could Be Gods

                             But I am greater as a man

                                                   L  ET

       M            E

                O                                                U                                    T

AB OMNI HOSTE VISIBILI ET IVISIBILI ET UBIQUE IN HOC SΆECULO UBERETUR