Welcome to our diary! I don't know what you'd be able to glean just by reading some words on a page, but whatever floats your ship, I guess. Or was it a boat? Either way, I'm just saying that you won't really get to know me unless you actually talk to me. So talk to me! ...Please?
On the inside of the cover, there is a pocket with a folded piece of paper inside. On it, is a list. This paper is titled, 'From Contractors to Flowers, Chronological'.
Luc.
Hm?
Wake up.
Don't wanna.
I- ...fine.
Sorry.
Don't be, I... I get it. Too early. It's gonna take a while to set in. We've locked ourselves in the studio, just grinding away at projects, one by one, two by two. It's not pretty. Luc's work has always been idyllic, peaceful, a manifestation of the perfect world she wishes to reside in forever. Fields upon fields of flowers stretch across the horizon while the sun shines dazzlingly overhead. It blinds me, it blinds Luc too, but if that means we don't have to see anymore (any more) then we'd happily stay there. Instead... we're stuck here.
I tried to be normal. I tried to be myself. I raised my hands like a frame to capture a scene in my head, but what happened next?
Luc, don't think too hard about it. Leave it to me. Leave all the thinking to me. Just keep creating your beautiful artworks. ...Please.
Huh. Okay.
The classmate who was in the frame when Luc did that has not been seen up to this day. They came back a few weeks later, in a wheelchair. They've been recovering. I don't know where this came from - was this the power that Karyn had been so haughty about? Horrifying. Yet Luc knows nothing better.
New Orleans, Louisiana. I remember this place - I haven't been to the heart of the city before, but in a way I felt right at home. Was that wrong? It shouldn't be a home, should it? You should be happy, you're close to us again, you could even come ba-
I heard there was a strange fire around here some months ago, and someone got melted. I thought people just burned, but I guess not. Weird things happen in Louisiana, it's actually pretty funny considering how I'm from here and I'm pretty funny.
Anyways, she told me she could do some sort of upgrade on me. Of course I chose vision, it's like having double the artistic vision now that I can see strange colours in the dark! Might even help me draw in the dark. Photosensitive materials are finally within my grasp, gotta use this in my final project or something.
Sometimes I wonder if I’ve ever met Lina here when I still lived here, but it doesn't feel like things would be this surreptitious. For one they would never have allowed it - she's not exactly the kind of person that Father would look for. Not to mention Leopold’s really cool and he would definitely not have liked us. We would've called him a “heathen”, so I had a little trouble trying to figure out how I felt about him. Then I realized I don't have to decide so quickly anymore. Lina’s here, and for what it's worth, I feel a little safer around her. She promised she'd make sure no one approached us at the airport after all, and she kept that promise.
It felt like a little field trip. And what's a field trip if you don't go to a local attraction? I've always wondered what art galleries around here were like. Basically, wherever I’m going, my first thought is always to go find art. It's for inspiration! It's to tell myself, “If they can, I can too!”
So we went to the New Orleans Museum of Art! Turns out Lina is also pretty artsy, it's always nice being able to talk about art with people that aren't my classmates - there's nothing wrong with them, but art should be more widespread! You don't need a degree to look at things and have an opinion on them.
At some point Lina started talking about "StaĆczyk”. She mentioned helplessness and spiraling and “all you could do is watch”, and… gee, who hurt her, am I right?
But I get it. Who am I to judge? Upbringing definitely has something to do with what you see in a work - it's like I get to peek at a little piece of people that would never pop up otherwise. It's pretty neat.
It's not that Luc has nothing to say about the painting, or that she fails to see the intent behind it. She has been staring at that desolate face for a long time now, have you noticed? We aren't stupid - we can understand basic human emotional cues. It just hits a little too close to home for her to say anything - and by home, I mean the cage that had called itself our Family for the first decade of our life.
The bumbling of a party next door, faded music whose bass holds us captive no matter how far we go, an ethereal question of, "What am I doing here?"
I'd be a fool not to stop and think of all the horrible news that cursed letter holds. The drapes are green and the tablecloth is muddled - there is no extravagance left in this room. The jester's eyes are trained forward, undistracted yet haunted by the unknowable.
...We remember holding our eyes open for so long we were convinced they'd crack and shatter and we'd finally be free from seeing. But now, it's our only path forward. Where else could we go? We've already escaped one place, is that not enough?
Her sketches were really cool, we started sharing our drawings and stuff and I didn't know she was a fashion designer! And a streamer! I've always wanted to draw clothing but the proportions are never right. All the fabric looks flat. Gotta set up some days where we just start drawing together, I have to learn from the expert. She's been doing so much, apparently she's got rats now. I wonder why she even takes time out of her day to hang out with me. She seems like she's got a lot to do, and here I am flying to Louisiana for the funsies.
It took a lot to get Luc to come back out of her shell.
I wonder if we're friends? Either way I hope Lina enjoyed our little outing. Maybe next time I'll ambush her during her stream. :)