The Field of Difference.
Missy Talk A Lot’s Fourth Diary Entry.
The New Girl.
Diary the most alarming thing happened through the night. Fumble and I had waited behind some trees waiting for the owl’s to drop their new victim. We had plans for this one, so there we were listening to the trees rustle and the odd piece of metal bang against each other in the darkness. The sound of ‘hooting’ vibrated all around us then something thumped to the floor.
I crept out from behind the trees and grabbed whatever it was inside a net that Fumble had found along the way. It struggled from beneath me as I struggle to contain it. Fumble was little help as he shouted, “Flesh being, we don’t hurt other’s,”
I ignored him and finally got whoever it was to stop moving. Fumble slowly crept forwards and his interface scanned the net. An image of the most ugly doll I had ever seen popped up. She had scars running down her cheeks and one of her eyes clicked from side to side. I had not wanted to let her out of the net, but Fumble had pulled the net off her before I could stop him.
“I’m Marylin, I want your dress, your hair and your eyes,” she had said, as she sat up.
I jumped back, not a chance was I letting her strip me for parts. It turned out, that was what she was sent to do. Start taking pieces of us until she was whole and useful again.
Fumble hates me now as I write this, after what we did to Marylin. See I need to live. I need to find a way out of here. I feel like I have a greater calling than this.
So I convinced Fumble to guide Marylin to a place I knew she would find all the parts she needed. I watched as the morning sun rose and Marylin followed Fumble towards the mushy soil. Dirty, sticky hand reached out, bright eyes watched her as she moved closer to the edge. She fell forwards as they grabbed at her, pulling her under the soil. She begged for us to help. But we didn’t, her voice soon drowned away and that one annoying eye landed by my feet.
I have to go now and try to convince Fumble we did the right thing, that robot has too many ideas about wrong and right. I hope Fumble will return to the dumping area and wait with me for someone who we could bargain with.
Wouldn’t you have done the same thing if you were me living here?
I’ll write back soon diary if nothing happens to me first.
Signed Missy Talk Alot..