Seeing as I am probably going to be locked up in this prison forever, until I die, of course; and that I may die probably the Wednesday of next week, or maybe even Thursday of next week if I have enough water, or maybe I won’t get any water and will die on Monday–I would like to say something.
I just wanted to say how utterly foolish yesterday’s entry was, about the Charming husband plus wife ordeal–honestly, it doesn’t make any sense now that I think re-think it–naturally, I cannot re-read it in the dark. Oh, how naturally unnatural this whole world is!
Anyway, now, let me tell you about my childhood.
WHERE AM I NOW? I don’t know, I don’t know, I’m crying all over the paper again, getting everything wet as usual–I’m an old dunce–well, a young one–so clumsy, but I don’t know what just happened and I am terribly frightened!
I can read what I’m writing now because it’s not dark anymore. Blue lights are swirling everywhere, spinning my heart into a
it’s cold in here.
This is what happened, I tell you in truth:
I was about to tell you all about my childhood, when suddenly there was a shutter–or a flutter–like the sound a chicken makes after preening itself. Chickens aren’t half dirty creatures, and I do love birds so, but, I’ve never seen a crow so large. You see Grimhilde across the hall from me in her cell, seemed to have turned herself into a dreadfully large crow! I didn’t know it then, and her voice sounded like a crow’s anyway, but I didn’t realize that she was a crow until my cell door began to be unlocked, and then wings started getting in my face, and the crow said, “Hold on, dearie, I’ll get you out,” or something. And then, seeing it was a crow, I must have fainted, and last I knew was I was looking into Snow White’s terrible white eyes, and she clapped for a woodsman, and said, “give me her heart!”
Then the woodsman opened the lid to a beautiful box, and told me to get in, and I told him that I wouldn’t fit, and then he and Snow White got very angry, and so being she ran at me, but tripped over the box for my heart to go in that the woodsman dropped on the floor, and she disappeared!
And you know how very fond I used to be of Snow White, but now I am a little glad to be rid of her. Right after she disappeared, however, I thought that I had best leave before I disappeared, and then I double thought and decided that maybe if I jumped in the box, then I would get back home! It seemed such a novel idea, so I ran back, jumped over the box just as the woodsman, unfortunately, was picking it up, and I fell rather heavily upon the floor. Now everything is blue around me, and I am writing, wondering if I shall ever find my husband. Now I am about to cry again, and