New Beginnings from Old Ends

Dear Diary,

My name is Blanca… Blanca Widow. It may seem odd that I write this, you know, my name. It's more for my benefit than anyone else. Anyone who would come across this diary in years to come. Gods, I hope he doesn't see me writing this, if he finds this… well, then I guess I will become.. become one of them, and this will be destroyed… and all this would be for nothing… no not for nothing, this is a puzzle and I must figure this out and piece my memories back together… my memories? Her memories?

A man, old… white hair… gray... beard? no, mustache… yes, and glasses... coat… white… doctor? maybe… he was angry with me.. he blamed me… no not me… her… always her… I remind him of her… I am her… I am… a part of her…

Babies… his babies… her babies… no, their babies! Two, twins… one girl, one boy, one white, one black… no, white and black… yes, white skin… black hair… gone… dead… no… sent away… why? I got attached… I showed them love… he got mad… sent them away from me… destroyed me… made me again…

I still remember them… he doesn't know… he can't know… he'll destroy me again… it hurts… the pain is maddening… he watches… he arranged for a gift… does he know? can I talk to him about it? does he know he is one, too? questions, more pieces missing… procreate… it is what we do… it is what we were created for… we don't age… the children age… what about the grandchildren…

I hear him, he's coming!


Does he know?