#egjournal

I want to hate you. Let me hate you. Let me hate you for bringing me here. Let me hate you for ripping away my hopes. Let me hate you for things that aren't your fault. Please just let me hate you. Don't let me like you. Don't let me depend on you. 

Above all, don't let me love you.

I’ve kind of realized that he’s become a good friend to me. Like, more than just a claim, he’s one of the few people to really, I don’t know...know me? I guess. Him and Sarah. That’s another thing, Sarah’s like, wormed her annoying little troll self into my heart. But like, in the best way possible, I think. We went to the beach after her punishment, which god just don’t get me started on, and we talked. Her, me and Nick. I don’t know, something about the two of them, I feel like I can be myself. She knows our secret, I know hers, we’re all just, okay. 

It’s weird, that’s for sure. I’ve never really had friends before. Not the way I do with them. I’ve always been part of the crowd, but most days I never felt like I had someone to turn to when I needed them. Not that I ever wanted to tell them, I don’t ask for help. I don’t ask for anything, I learned not to. But Nick and Sarah, they just give. All the time. They’re the type of people that make you feel like they care about you, really care about you. It’s a welcome change, I’ll say that much.

Maybe that’s why I was so willing to just open up to them. I know I showed Nick a side of myself that even I don’t like admitting to having most days. And he didn’t run. Actually, he just faced me down and calmed down the monster and it was kind of a relief. I thought for sure he’d just cower in the corner, for a minute there it looked like he would. But as usual, he surprised me. Even more he seemed to share my thoughts, that Ben needs to be taken care of. I know that the Puckermans have plans for him, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want a piece of the action. No one messes with my friends.

Some people live lives That the rest of us could never imagine Am I living one right now? Or is this terror I feel just so ordinary?

Every day is like a nightmare Every day without the comforts that I knew Oh, without the world I am lost and so alone

The journal of the once Kurt E. Hummel, now just Kurt.

So something happened.

Something good. Usually I'd be screaming about it to just about anyone just to show them all how excellent I am as a Mistress - I mean, I was never one to be humble, right? But I can't. No, I won't. I don't want to. I'm even having a hard time tellingyou,and you're nothing but a sheet of paper.

Brittany loves me.

Or she says she does, and I believe her. She loves me. How fucking weird is that? The good weird though, definitely the good weird. All those films and books are right though, it feels...good hearing it. Not that I could make her feel like that. For starters, she's a slave. I don't love slaves. And besides, it's in the rules, and if anyone were to find out that I might...I don't.

And I certainly don't love crazy, grumpy hairballs that take away Brittany's attention. He's such a whiny brat, especially when she turns her back on him for more than a few seconds, but I put my foot down about him sleeping in our bed. It isn't happening, not in a million years, and the little shit better get that through his head fast. But Brittany loves me, so it's okay.

Did I mention that? Brittany loves me? Yeah? Okay.

Because she does.

Conflicted again. Seems to be a constant state. I need to pick a side already. Because this is tearing me apart.

Christmas was perfect too. I got a few nice things from my family along with the family Christmas card. How mom still manages to make everyone pose for that stupid photo is beyond me, but it was nice to see on Christmas morning. The Caretaker was feeling pretty generous himself and gave all the masters a gift, I got a harness, which I have to say looks really good on Nick. He seems to be a fan of it himself. Though, to be honest the best gift I got this year was Nick.

I am alone.

So many of the other slaves have left, claimed, rented, whatever. I am alone now. There are a few of us, and we don't really talk. We just complain. And hope. And complain some more. My resolve is increased. My memories have decreased. I no longer keep them as I wanted to. Even Melissa has gone. She said her master would send a care package. He never did. What would be his excuse, I wonder?

I find myself writing songs to pass the time. I sing the odd bar, but the guards rattle the cage until I stop.

Mistress Elizabeth seemed thoroughly uninterested in me. That's fine. There are others I can court... although Hunter seems to have gone to ground since his brother arrived.