First week of January 1953.
I often find myself asking the same question, am I really insane? Or is it the people that guard me that are the insane ones? Now the reason is that I feel as if life is a dream or that things happening in our daily lives aren't real. My name is Thomas Lincoln and I have been in a mental institution for three years now. Often at times I find myself talking to things that aren't there or I talk to myself. But I think it's because im alone isn't it? Ya that's the reason why im sure of it.
Second week of January 1953.
I feel their piercing gaze come through the walls at me as I talk. The man in my room tells me to whisper and tells me things he says I should know. I tell him things I could do to them that they couldn't possibly imagine. But, for now I let that part of me lay dormant for the day will come when I have my chance to escape and be free of this damned place!
Third week of January 1953.
They make fun of me I know they do! They think im worthless but I'll show those bastards what I can really do. They have no clue of what im capable of and they won't see a damn thing coming!
First week of February 1953.
I've finally escaped! I told them they would regret everything they did to me and i made them pay oh how I made them pay! It was wonderful watching them squirm and gasp for air when I slit their throats, I couldn't help but have a smile on my face.
Second week of February 1953.
I still talk to the man that was in my cell, he was very proud of me for what I did. Now I couldn't be any more happy.