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“Clean this mess up. When you’re done, you can do the dusting.”
She walks out, leaving Bud to peel me off the floor and me to realize I already regret her leaving me alive. My hand goes up to the collar, rubbing it absently.
The monotony of chores and cleaning is actually welcome, and I decide I do like the new pen torture toy, if only because it makes cleanup easier. I am a bit surprised that even after so much time has passed, my relative immunity to actually dealing with a mutilated corpse is still high. Having access to TV has meant I do better understand how the world works, and there are very specific names for people like Jane.
And Teddy, I think bitterly.
I watched a show last year about different mental disorders, and I remember being fascinated. I always knew Jane’s proclivities were against the norm, but I don’t think it ever occurred to me quite how much or what that really meant. At least now, I know there is something wrong in Jane’s head.
Before Teddy left, I guessed that she had something dark inside of her too, but I didn’t have a name for it then. I just knew she enjoyed the blood and torture in a way I couldn’t understand. Now, I also know that child or not, Teddy too has something wrong in her head.
I read once that knowledge is power. Considering I have no power in my life, knowledge is about as good as it gets.
