Of Smoke and Mirrors

Entry: 2nd of February, 1855


2 ºc. Foggy and cloudy.

London has glowed dimmer for me. After what I have predicted to be a very dull week, I am at last free from any doctor’s appointment and I no longer require any rest. There is barely any evidence of a scar, unless I touch the spot thoroughly or look directly at it at a certain light. Even though that was my greatest concern until quite recently, I have been having my hands full with other issues.

Sleep has become my worst enemy. Every time I close my eyes for a quick restoring nap, images just keep flashing back. I keep recalling that woman’s bloodshot eyes full of intention to kill me immediately turning blank as the head detaches from the body. Somehow, that scene keeps overlapping with the creepy laughter of that strange girl-like being we found during the Ghouls incident… My head is a mess… I need to rest, but at the same time I cannot bring myself to get it. My research has been the only thing that has been able to keep my mind sane. Fortunately I have been advancing on it pretty well.

Last night though, I have found a way to fall asleep and avoid initial night terrors. Without Marianne’s knowledge, I have snatched a bottle of Porto wine reserved for our fine guests. One small glass is all I need (also it is all my body can take) and my mind goes immediately blank. I am able to sleep through the night, though it does not safeguard me from a shaky, sweaty wake up.

On another matters, I wonder how my circumstantial companions are doing. Not that I was expecting them to pay me a visit, as Mr. Auri loses track of the world when he is working and Mr. McGill just does not fancy me at all. Despite of that, I still care about them in a way. I also wonder if they struggle… Probably this is exactly the reason why Mr. McGill finds me quite displeasing, for having these naïve thoughts and knowing nothing about crude, real world emotions.

I have also been thinking about the clinic where all these events occurred. I might find some peace in repenting for what happened… Maybe that doctor’s proposition on becoming a nurse might not sound so empty after all.

Nevertheless, mom’s anniversary is coming soon. I am feeling a bit anxious about it. It has been a while since the family has been reunited and I miss my brothers deeply. I wish from the bottom of my heart for them to be safe.

- bibamus, moriendum est
Let us drink, for we must die.



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