Possession (2024) UNFINISHED

Part Eight: "Running Away Is Easy, It's The Leaving That's Hard"

I can't do this anymore. Bonnie thought to herself. It was 10:23 P.M. on a Saturday night. Her leg was still healing from the open, gaping wound that Aunt Margie had given her. Why would she do this to me? I loved her when I was younger, I looked up to her, sorta like some kind of God, but she was always so pissed at me for no reason! Did she ever stop to think about how I feel? I'm human, too! Margie's sharp, exuberant eyes had always created a hateful tension in the room. Bonnie loathed the feeling of making eye contact with Margie, giving herself a slight headache every time she tried to. Was that a reason why I felt there was something off about Margie? Was her cold, heartless eyes really a sign that she had murdered her uncle? Or was I just a dickhead? "Bonnie. Come downstairs. I need to have a small chat with you." Her mother shouts, unexpectedly. Her heart drops. "Oh, alright." Bonnie replies. She galloped downstairs, leaving creaky, yet muffled footsteps behind her. "So, what do you need?" Bonnie asks. "Hi, honey, I've been asking why you haven't been answering some of my questions about what happened the day your leg was stabbed by Margie. Just speak up." Wendy responds. "I already told you, Mama, I didn't want to talk about it, yet you keep insisting!" Bonnie cried. "I don't want to talk about this with you here." Bonnie states. Wendy scoffed. "That's what you always say when I'm either trying to talk some sense into you or trying to get information out of you. Why aren't you like the other girls in your class? They don't mind when they're being talked to, and they act normal. They're not angry all the time or throw outburst when they don't get what they want." Bonnie's heart shattered into tiny pieces, falling one by one. "So I'm the one at fault?!" Bonnie roars. "*sigh* "Bonnie—you bonehead—that's not what I'm saying!" "Well it sure does sound like it! What the hell do you mean 'normal'?! I already am normal! Please, just tell me so maybe I can get better, I don't want to end up like you!" Bonnie screams. "Oh, don't you even dare go pinning the blame on me! There you go again, turning this simple question into a big argument! Why doesn't anything I try to tell you get through your thick skull?! You know, I did not have to carry you for nine months!" Wendy howls. "What is wrong with you?! You're asking a child who is still recovering from trauma after just being stabbed in the leg and you're yelling at me for not wanting to tell you about it!" Bonnie yelps.  "Well, I'm sorry that it takes me a couple of weeks to fully describe what happened that very day!" Bonnie hissed. "You know, I never even wanted a daughter like you! You need to control your anger, or I'm gonna give you something to yell about!" "You never change, now do you? Always so stubborn; always thinking you're right! Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn't lie to me this whole time we were fighting!" Bonnie screeches. "It's not fighting, it's arguing! Get it right!" Wendy yells. "Okay, well, do you want a cookie now? What am I supposed to do with this information? It never, ever makes sense. You know what? Congratulations. Congratulations on ruining everything for me. Congrats on taking any chance of freedom I got. Congrats on taking opportunities away from me just for the fun of it!" Bonnie screams. "Oh well, I gotta tell you something too, missy. I hate you." says Wendy, lowering her voice. "...What? You know you don't mean that." Bonnie says in a soft, airy tone. "I hate to admit it. Yet you were always a burden to me. You would get mad over petty things like what kind of bread that's bought or me just asking you a simple question." Wendy says. "So I guess that explains how much I really meant to you, huh? Well, Mama, even if you don't, I love you back." Bonnie sobs, her voice breaking, yet cracking a slight smile at the same moment. Bonnie slams the door behind her, dashing into her room.

Dear Diary,

I'm running away with Shelly and no one can stop me or her. I plan to meet up with her tomorrow at five A.M. Goodbye, dull castle.