Коллекционер
Chapter 2
Icouldn’tkillmyself,I’mtooangrywithhim.
He’salwaysabusedme.Fromtheverybeginning.Thatstoryaboutthedog.Heusesmyheart.Thenturnsandtramplesonit.
Hehatesme,hewantstodefilemeandbreakmeanddestroyme.HewantsmetohatemyselfsomuchthatIdestroymyself.
Thefinalmeanness.He’snotbringingmeanysupper.I’mtofast,ontopofeverythingelse.Perhapshe’sgoingtoleavemetostarve.He’scapableofit.
I’vegotovertheshock.Hewon’tbeatme.Iwon’tgivein.Iwon’tbebrokenbyhim.
I’vegotatemperature,Ifeelsick.
Everything’sagainstme,butIwon’tgivein.
I’vebeenlyingonthebedwithG.P.’spicturebesideme.Holdingtheframeinonehand.Likeacrucifix.
Iwillsurvive.Iwillescape.Iwillnotgivein.
Iwillnotgivein.
IhateGod.Ihatewhatevermadethisworld,Ihatewhatevermadethehumanrace,mademenlikeCalibanpossibleandsituationslikethispossible.
IfthereisaGodhe’sagreatloathsomespiderinthedarkness.
Hecannotbegood.
Thispain,thisterribleseeing-throughthatisinmenow.Itwasn’tnecessary.Itisallpain,anditbuysnothing.Givesbirthtonothing.
Allinvain.Allwasted.
Theoldertheworldbecomes,themoreobviousitis.ThebombandthetorturesinAlgeriaandthestarvingbabiesintheCongo.Itgetsbiggeranddarker.
Moreandmoresufferingformoreandmore.Andmoreandmoreinvain.
It’sasifthelightshavefused.I’mhereintheblacktruth.
Godisimpotent.
