The Upside Down J

July 11th, 2010

Now here he is sitting before me—still, silent, and beautiful. He doesn’t need to speak. When there is love, passion sings in the air; it sings songs that human language cannot translate. I am watching him, and he is wonderful. I can see his chest moving as he breathes between the ropes I bound him in. His large gray pupils swiftly scan the room. He is so intelligent, and he is mine now. His hands keep fumbling like he is trying to free them from the bonds. I know he just wants to reach out and touch me, but I am afraid I can’t free him yet. Even though I know we’re in love I can’t trust him. I had a hard time catching him. It must be fear of commitment on his end, but that doesn’t bother me. We’re together now. That’s all that matters. My Darling will be OK because he loves me. The story of our romance proves it.

Our romance began when I was out one evening searching for my dog. Clarence ran away from me again; I guess it’s a Jack Russell Terrier thing. It was getting later and later into the night. I ended up in some desolate place void of human life. My memory is a bit foggy on exactly where I was, but it was quiet and dirty. I felt something wet like a mist come upon me. I was afraid… I think, can’t really remember for sure. Though I do recall feeling dizzy and seeing a shadow that was cast from the full moon. Next thing I knew I was feeling groggy and lying on the cold, wet ground. That’s when I saw him for the first time. He was hunched over me, staring into my eyes. He has the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. They have amber irises that compliment his gray pupils. As I gazed into those hypnotizing eyes I swear there was a union of our souls. I felt warm all over and there was an energy that was almost tangible. The more I basked in the radiation of our love, the larger his pupils got. Then my Angel ran off. He left me. But that was alright. He was probably just in shock from feeling true love for the first time. My, how he runs fast! I don’t know what he was doing when I first woke up. There was definite strangeness that night. Magical. I was questioning it all on my way home; it was an exhausting walk.

Once I was home (I gave up looking for Clarence), I noticed I was feeling sore down in my lower stomach. That’s when I discovered an upside-down “J” carved in my abdomen. At first I was upset about it, but as the days went on, I began to understand. Now I get butterflies every time I see the carving—I think it’s My Love’s mark. He claimed me! Maybe it’s like an engagement ring. I believe his name must start with the letter J. I don’t really know because he doesn’t speak, but he’s just allowing the passion to sing.

My hand cramps. I will finish the story of true love later. Besides, Clarence is whining. He came back on his own. I’m afraid about him getting loose again. When he came home last time he brought some sort of grotesque, blood covered thing in his mouth. He kept spitting it out at my feet. Silly puppy seemed to think I wanted it.

July 12th, 2010

I have spent the day trying to get my Darling to speak. I keep reminding him of all the times he rescued me from danger in our past. Those exhilarating moments that confirmed we are meant for each other! He stays silent. I do like looking at him though. We don’t need words to communicate. I worry that he is still nervous about being mine now. I try to soothe him. I sweetly remind him that I cannot remove the ropes entirely until he professes the feelings he has for me. But I do feel concerned about how pale he has been getting. He seems a tad gaunt in the face. Love sick. That must be it.

I guess I should record the rest of our love story. My second encounter with him was when he rescued me from drowning. I was fishing with this dumb boy I used to like. I think his name was Lewis. I don’t know for sure anymore. I like calling him “Dumb Boy” better. I would have done anything to be around that loser. That was before I met my Darling. Dumb Boy had a little boat and we were drifting above Lake Veronica in it. I hate fishing; I was getting bored. So I tried to lighten the mood by diving into the water. But no-fun Dumb Boy just started yelling about how I was scaring away the fish. He kept saying that. I wanted him to dive in and play with me in the water. He wouldn’t do it. I am the determined type of girl though, and I usually get what I want. So to make Dumb Boy fun I started to swim away from the boat so he would try to find and catch me.

Only after I swam for a while and turned around I noticed Dumb Boy and his boat were absent. I was getting tired. I went under water to test how deep it was so I could take a break, but to my horror I got stuck on some sort of rubbish! I began to drown. Just when I felt like my eyes were going to float out of their sockets, My Angel came. He wrenched me free and took me to shore. He swims like no other man. He took me to shore and he watched me with such concerned eyes as I coughed and sputtered, and then he left me without a word again. Actions speak louder than words. I recognized him as the man that keeps me safe. From that day on I have loved him. O yes! After that thrilling experience of being whisked away from Death, I began to stage peril to be saved from. Just so I could see him.

I can’t wait to show my parents my Rescuer. They didn’t believe my stories. If anything they were fretting about my sanity. They almost didn’t go on their second honeymoon vacation because of their meaningless fretting

July 13th, 2010

I’m starting to believe that the reason for this intolerable silence is that my Dearest is mad at me. I have been examining myself in every way possible to understand why he is upset. Why else would he refuse to speak? He won’t even look at me. I have done everything to attempt to please him that doesn’t involve setting him free. My last resort is to try making him a feast of a dinner. I have a stuffed chicken in the oven now. I do hope it makes him feel better. He woke me up last night from making this whimpering moan. It was very sad. I dashed over to him; I wanted to help—only I failed. He started hissing at me as he writhed in his ropes.

I think he’s angry about how I made him mine. It wasn’t my fault. My frustration was escalating from seeing him but never having time to chat. So I came up with a genius plan to keep him around a while.

See, I quickly caught on to his superhero traits and started staging danger. I would purposely run out on the road in front of semis—and he would appear, swoop me up , and take me to safety. He’s a great leaper. I would go hiking in the woods and walk off a bluff, and he would catch me. My love for him kept growing. I don’t know where he used to hide so that he could always save me. I tried to be sneaky with mirrors, but I never saw him looming nearby. Ah how love is mysterious.

So I decided to fake one more damsel in distress situation. Only this time I would be armed with my father’s tranquilizer gun. Having a veterinarian in the house is so useful. I decided to go in the old shed on our property and hide the tranquilizer, along with some fire extinguishers, inside. The timing was perfect; my parents were far away and unable to stop me from capturing my Soul Mate. I settled close by my hidden goods and lit the shed ablaze. This was such a sacrifice for me. I treasure my Hero so dearly I could barely stand the thought of hurting him with the tranquilizer; however it was worth it for our romance.

I sat patiently in that fiery place and waited for him to come for me. Sure enough, like a ray of light, My Angel rushed in! There was so much smoke that he was struggling to find me. That’s when I shot him. He was so divine as he fell. I put out my fire and dragged him to the house and into my room. And now here we are! Only I guess he’s upset about how I was forced to shoot him. I nearly cried when I saw that dart sticking out of his skin. I really didn’t want to do it, but he made me do it! I needed to take action! He loves me. He’ll forgive me. We’ll be happy and in love again in a matter of hours. I’m sure of it. I wish I would have known him before my 16th birthday. We could have celebrated it together. I can’t believe I wasted my birthday with Dumb Boy.

July 14th, 2010

Today should be a day of grand celebration. I’ve been with my Darling for a total of two and a half days. I can’t tell if he’s still angry or not, but I have decided he must not speak English. No worries. Words only lead to broken promises and lies. It is the actions that are important. But the chicken dinner went over very well. You know what they say; the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!

But, I am starting to feel the slightest bit of wonder about him, and not in a completely whimsical way. He still won’t speak to me, and it is getting harder and harder to feed him. After the chicken, he wanted to eat a lot. When I started to spoon feed him the chicken (he still needs to keep the bindings of love on) he ate the spoon! Such strong teeth he has! Never have I seen such strength. So, I ended up feeding him with my fingers. I would kind of drop the food in. He ate that whole chicken and all of those potatoes, and was still hungry. He started making a type of racket I have never heard before. It must be his magical way of expressing himself. It was so beautiful it gave me chills because it was that great! His language is made up of grunts and snorts, like a magnificent, wild stallion. I am so lucky to have him.

He kept begging for food in his own perfect way, and I was only too honored to continue feeding him. Only he just kept eating, and eating, and eating. It was so cute to see how excited he got when he saw me bringing up food. He loves everything I serve. Except I don’t know if I can afford to feed him like this for long; I guess being a hero gives him a ferocious appetite. He ate an entire frozen pizza, three pounds of ground beef, two cans of Campbell chicken noodle soup, a box of Oreos, four boxes of pasta, and well….he ate nearly everything in the kitchen; I became so desperate to appease his stomach that I even had to give him the can of pumpkin in the pantry. I couldn’t help myself in feeding him. He’s too fantastic to resist. But I was a tad worried he’d get sick. Never have I seen a man eat like that!

When I ran out of food and drink, and he realized I couldn’t produce anymore, he did a funny trick. He closed his eyes and turned olive green. For a second I thought he was dead, but then I saw he was breathing, such a sweet sight. I love him so much! But I can’t take him to a doctor. The doctor might tell me I can’t feed him like that anymore, and that would be too sad. He loves to eat. And it has to be OK for him to do so, he’s so thin! He’s been green and asleep for a while now. I just sit back and stare at him. I suppose I will have to leave him for a little while to get more food. I’m starting to get a little hungry.

July 18th, 2010

My parents will be returning home in two days, and I am excited about them meeting my future husband. I’m sure they won’t be upset that I used the emergency credit card to stock our food supply. I know they will understand.

I have decided to name My Love. I have named him Jameson, oh what a powerful name. I’ve been spending all my time with him. I got fired from my job at Burger King because I missed my shift twice, but I don’t care. How could I leave my Jameson? Plus, Jameson stopped being green two days ago, so it was worth it. I could spend eternity looking at those amber irises. Oddly, he hasn’t wanted to eat anything since he woke up. I’m sure he’ll get that hunger back soon and start making those adorable noises.

I’ve been telling him all about how our lives will be soon. I know he’s excited about it. I can see it in his eyes. I tell him how he’s going to be my little old man someday and how he will play guitar on the porch of our little house on the beach, and how I will sing for him as he plays. I tell him about the children we will have and how they will look like him. They’ll have his amazing metabolism and oral strength, his amber eyes, and his buttercream skin. And if we’re lucky, our daughters will boast his long limbs and jet black hair. I know Jameson is thrilled about how I’m going to get the little mark he carved on me embellished at the tattoo parlor. His upside-down J is scarring beautifully. I showed him how nicely it is scarring, and he furrowed his thin eyebrows and reached out towards it. He actually seemed upset about it for some reason. I thought I saw a few tears weld up in his beautiful eyes. I reached over and tried to hug him, but he flinched and wouldn’t look at me. I think he feels bad about the small amount of pain his mark has caused me. I know we can have a life together. I released his bonds when he stopped being green, but I was sure to keep my tranquilizer close by just in case he wanted to resume hero work. I know he’s a workaholic because when I let him loose, he started running all over my room. This dedicated attitude screams how fine of a husband he will be someday. Marriage is a job. I was delighted to watch him show off his fleetness. He was athletically leaping from my dresser to my bed and everywhere—then he started scratching at my window. I was afraid he’d hurt himself by breaking out. So I had to shoot him again. It looked like he was going to start banging his head against the glass or something. He howled in pain, but he was soon peacefully slumbering.

I decided to buy him a harness intended for big dogs and a leash. The harness is such a romantic symbol of our love. It’s a way of saying how his heart can’t contain the passion he has for me. The passion brings on an explosion of emotion. I keep him in the house in case the neighbors don’t understand our relationship. My only concern at this point is keeping him restrained. He is stronger than me. He tugs the leash hard. I may have to buy a little shocking device so I can get his attention again.

July 20th, 2010

Jameson got his appetite back today. I found out because I caught him eating the carpet. I’m amazed at how he can digest anything. I was quick about rushing down to start a feast for him. All of this time in the kitchen is reminding me of how I used to desire John—that stupid jock at school. I don’t know what I liked about him. His athletic skills are nothing compared to Jameson’s. Oh, but back then, before Jameson and Dumb Boy, I would spend hours baking treats for that stupid Jock and his team; I didn’t care about the countless hours I lost, or the fact I was failing geometry. At least my foolish past infatuation with that jock made me a better cook for my Jameson!

Mom and Dad’s flight got delayed because of a thunderstorm. I will see them tomorrow. I hope they don’t get upset about the carpet. I wish Jameson would have told me he was hungry. I thought I comprehended the noise code. I only hope he doesn’t turn green again since I want Mom and Dad to meet him right away. And the shock collar is working like a charm. Jameson is learning fast. Love is a universal language.

July 21st, 2010

Mom and Dad are upset about some of the small bits of damage Jameson has done to the house (silly Jameson eats about anything he can sink his grandiose teeth into). So I bought some time to get Jameson trained by claiming the famine kitchen and damaged woodwork, carpet, and books were from a rambunctious party I had. They believed it, but the chew marks are causing suspicion. I attempted to blame Clarence. I’m not sure if they bought it. I need to train Jameson better. I am so grateful that he is in the green stage right now. Those eating frenzies must take a lot out of him.

July 25th, 2010

Horrible news! Yesterday Jameson stopped being green and was all wild and wonderful, but my mom discovered him and says he must go! She says he is repulsive and questions his humanity. How many tear stains can one poor girl’s journal hold? I can’t believe she doesn’t understand! What Jameson and I have is truly special. She wants to report him or take him to a doctor. I might have to let him go and possibly never see him again. I don’t know if I have the strength to do that. But I’m sure a doctor can prove just how human Jameson is. I tried to show my mother how I can control him with the shock collar, but she won’t listen. She says I am being selfish and cruel. Dad isn’t being helpful either. He’s trying to study him! He looks at Jameson, and starts mumbling how Jameson is very close to being human. I am disgusted. My Dear is now in an industrial cage with only a blanket for comfort. A deep anger is brewing inside of me. I can scarcely tolerate looking at my parents for what they have done.

July 30th, 2010

The doctor is full of venom and lies! He said truly barbaric things about my Jameson. He made claims that Jameson doesn’t have any organs—only one that is completely foreign. The doctor even found some sort of decaying, molding wings. The doctor says Jameson’s blood is orange (that I did notice from the tranquilizing dart but everything else is a total LIE), and his body is full of strange pouches of a type of stored energy—but that is debatable.

I saw some of the testing done in the office before the medical people whisked Jameson off to a place I cannot go. What I saw was dreadful. I felt so sorry for my Jameson. He shrieked in terror as those evil nurses held him down so the doctor could perform test. I know the nurses wanted to put their hands on him. They are jealous of me. Jameson hated everything they did. The light in his eyes, the tapping of the knee, the blood pressure—all of it. It is all my parents’ fault. I hate them.

I did everything I could to save Jameson in the doctor’s office. I tried to distract those foul medical people by attempting to open the biohazard box, but I was stopped. I began screaming and hitting everyone I could. Jameson is mine! My efforts were regrettably futile. The asylum talks started. They are the crazy ones. The way they treated Jameson was grotesque. They are going to keep him away from me to continue testing him. Can’t they just accept he is a man of magnificent rarity? But no! Instead I am homebound with my idiotic mother and father. I hate them.

August 2nd, 2010

I still rot in my home. I constantly desire Jameson. My parents are still intolerable. How dare they not let me visit him! All my parents do is cry about what has become of me. I don’t love them anymore so I couldn’t care less about their petty sorrow. I am determined to venture out and save Jameson from whatever hell he is in. Those doctors know nothing. All of those lawless tests and they still know nothing. They were even desperate enough to call an old Irish hag called a “Seanchai” in for answers about what Jameson is. At least my evil mother and father tell me the Jameson updates…even if it is just an attempt to win back my favor.

The Seanchai says he is called a “Leech Fairy,” and he lives by stashing his organs in people. He has magic that puts people to sleep so he can take out a potential carrier’s organ and replace it with his. They claim Jameson’s body can’t support his organs. There’s a carrier for each different organ. The carriers usually never know, and there is no change in behavior reported.

Leech fairies also eat a lot to sustain energy, and then “rejuvenate” by going into a green sleep mode. They have the ability to teleport only when one of their organ carriers is in danger so they can rescue them. Great strength is also granted on rescue missions by magic. If a carrier dies, the leech fairy dies. The old hag—the Seanchai—had the nerve to talk to me on the phone. She started telling me that I have tried to humanize a wild being. She said that Jameson does what he does out of instinct. BUT JAMESON SAVED ME BECAUSE HE LOVES ME!

I will never believe that woman. I yelled at her and was creative with my insults, but the doctors are so dumbfounded I think they do believe her. There are lies everywhere around me and I can see them in form now. The lies look like little black monsters that wiggle constantly. The lies try to grab me. I see them clinging to my parents and crawling down the walls. But the black hellions can’t touch me. The truth is protecting me. Or maybe it’s the love I have for Jameson that protects me. But I must go and rescue my Jameson. My parents have finally accidentally told me where he is. Tears, interrogation, persistence, and lies pay off.

August 28th, 2010

Days have passed. I still hate my parents and refuse to look at them when they visit me in this dreadful place. I am confined in an insane asylum. I am amongst truly crazy people.

My life is empty now, but I finally feel enough sparks in my depressed soul to write in my journal. The white coats say journaling is “therapeutic.” The hope of reuniting with Jameson keeps me alive; as does the faint belief that he may need my life to stay alive. He might actually be a Leech Fairy. Without this knowledge, I would surely die of grief.

I cannot believe I have lost the battle for love. When I set off for his lab, I was certain I would prevail. I was sly and daring. I got to Jameson’s room by switching places with a cadaver that was supposed to be experimented on. It was worth shoving the heavy body in the closet and then going under its sheet. The table was cold on my naked skin; Jameson’s harness was uncomfortable being crammed under my back to hide it, but I felt it would be worth it. I couldn’t risk any part of my clothing being seen under the thin sheet. Once I was wheeled into somewhere I leaped from the table and scared the enemy to death. While they were stunned I made my escape to begin my search.

When I found him, he was surrounded by a pile of food and was eating. He seemed happy. I could make him happier. Luckily, the guard that was watching Jameson was an idiot; he was sleeping. I tackled Jameson and wrestled him into his harness. Jameson seemed upset that I disturbed his meal—No! He was upset about when the guard woke up and sounded the alarms. Jameson wanted to come home with me. The guard was talking to me, but I wasn’t listening. I think he said something about the police. Not that I cared. I was too busy trying to get Jameson to move. Then all of these people came rushing in, but I seized an IV pole and was ready to fight them. It was chaos. The scientist grabbed my arms and pulled my hair. People were trying to take Jameson’s leash, and Jameson was trying to eat a pineapple.

I screamed and begged Jameson to intervene and save me one more time. I cried out louder and louder as I was being taken away. I heard police sirens. Then Jameson’s eyes widened and his skin seemed to throb with the rush of blood rampaging in his veins. I was filled with joy. I was positive Jameson would save me, but Jameson only kept standing there till his eyes couldn’t widen anymore. Then he vanished. He was simply no more. I never cried so hard. I wept as the handcuffs were put on; a sheet was draped around me. I started rethinking everything the old hag said about leech fairies, especially the teleporting to rescue a carrier part. Perhaps Jameson isn’t a human after all. That doesn’t matter; I still need him. Perhaps Jameson put one of his organs in me and that is why he was always there for me when my life was in danger. Although, he didn’t save me out of instinct, he picked me because I am special to him.

I remember seeing how anguished the scientists were at how My Love was no more. I heard them grieving and thinking of ways to find him again. But I didn’t tell the scientist I was a carrier. I won’t team up with vermin. I don’t trust them. They might use me to bait Jameson back. When I escape from this asylum I vow that I will endanger myself to get him back. I will get out someday. I am studying the security carefully. I have noticed the stairs are not watched as cautiously. When I do escape from this appalling dwelling, it will be happily ever after for the two of us.