Chapter One
Hey diary,
The pot of nothingness is back.
I know a little more about myself now.
But it’s still not enough.
I almost had him. I can still have him. His amulet is somewhere in Texas. Only their mate can bring them back and I could do it. I could be with him. I could get up and leave and go look and start my own adventure towards what will probably be my own doom. But it’s a thought that never leaves my mind.
My pot of nothingness isn’t quite what I thought it was. I still have and feel emotions but it’s almost like nothing really touches my heart anymore. I haven’t cried so hard and so much that I can barely breathe and to where I am screaming out at my pain in a while. Last time I can think I have it wasn’t because of my pain. Well I guess it was. It was a no going back and guilty cry.
My hair is getting longer again. I’m not a virgin. I’ve drank alcohol. I’ve smoked an e-cig. I’m a changed person and the thing that gets me is that I don’t feel different and I don’t feel regret. Like who the hell am I? Is this me or is this what he has made me to be? I’m a little bolder now. I wear what I want to wear and I don’t put my head down as much.
It really bothers me that I can’t really feel emotions. I still cry and I still feel sympathy and happiness but I feel like it’s only a front. I really feel like my heart is dead or ice. I don’t know if I want to feel again or not. One part of me does but then another says that it’s for the best if I don’t. I don’t become affected by things that usually should affect me and I can move on easily.
It’s incredible to think that someone can screw you up so much to where you can’t feel anything except the dying need to want and to be with them.

Chapter Two
It takes a certain kind of person to be in my field of work. You have to deal with the crying, the sadness, and the look of hope in a person’s eyes just before you tell them and them being frozen in fear and disbelief right after you tell them. Now you might be asking just what is my field of work and or what is my job. Well my job is to be the right hand man to the grim reaper. That’s right death. Death itself doesn’t do the delivering of the bad news, I do. Death just does the taking of the souls and then he hands them over to the big guy. So I guess that makes me the big guys right right hand man.
It’s only once every couple thousand years that death finds someone that he likes enough not to kill but instead he makes them his right hand man. So I was once one of those people. They’re usually women.
Anyway.

Chapter Three
The yearly carnival is something that changes each year. On year it can be a children’s carnival and the next it can be a place where the devil goes on his vacation days. This year was that year. Walking through the gates, receiving the stamp, and walking forward into the unknown of hell with your fingers and arms linked with your chosen other. You enter with hope and courage but you leave a child with everything stripped from your soul. By walking in you are making a deal with the devil and only the worthless walk out with their sanity.
A ride is a level is hell. The further you go the closer you get to never escaping. How else is the devil supposed to get his helpers?

Chapter Four
The sepia seeming room was filled with smoke of the gay and the depressed. The only source of light comes from the lighters that light the minutes of life they give. It is in this place that teenagers come to die. The irony is that they came in to live. They came in to be popular. They came in to get on the bandwagon. They come in hoping to be a bigger and better person walking out but they end up being smaller and stupid. The laughter comes from the drunk. They open bottles brought to them by their comrades who are skilled in the art of fake ID’s and sleeping with their bosses. The bottles serve the same purpose as does the drugs. Each shot into the veins of the souls that have hit rock bottom. At the end of the night, when the laughter and drunken spirits is gone only after a moment, is when the teenagers that have come to feel stronger, only feel dumb.