My Stay In Stockholm

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A kidnapped girl is the victim of manipulation. Forced to commit acts without consent from her own conscious. Will her life return to normal?

Submitted: June 16, 2016

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Submitted: June 16, 2016

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My Stay in Stockholm

Journal Entry no 23.

I bought a notebook today. The one I’m writing in currently to send you my memoirs. You my friend are one lucky guy or girl. I don’t know what you are. I bought it to document what’s going on in my life. You may be confused as to why it says 23 at the top of this page. My original diary was lost at sea. I can’t remember exactly how, though. I guess I dropped it from a cruise ship, hence the lost at sea part. I think it was boring material though. My talks included such as boys, school, and the annoyance that is associated with parents and control. I would talk more but mister is calling for dinner.

Journal Entry no 26.

I did it sir or madam. I performed just as asked by mister. He was proud of me and I got 30% of our initial income. My clothes are completely ruined though. They were borrowed after all from the first. I’ll have to put them in the wash before returning them. Mister tells me not to worry though. His calm demeanor puts my heart at ease. My first meeting with him didn’t go as planned though. For him or me, but I’ll have to tell that story for another day. We are on our way to Winnipeg. I’ve never been to Canada, but mister has friends there to stay with. I hope it snows.

Journal Entry no 27.

Sir or madam, can I confess something to you. While listening to the radio, I heard something false on the radio. My name and mister’s name came on the radio today. They said we were wanted for murder and theft, but we did the right thing. I know we did the right thing, just like Robin Hood. It was my favorite story as a little girl. I told mister that was my favorite book and he told me that, “Robin was justice for people who never knew the word.” I don’t care what those people say about me and mister. We represent the little guy. HEHE. I have to go now, mister says we are at his friend’s house.

P.S. It’s snowing outside.

 

Journal Entry no 28.

Hey buddy. It’s late at night right now and I can’t sleep. I’m sitting on the porch in an oversized shirt and underwear. The blanket around me is so warm. I took it from mister after he fell asleep. His smell makes me shudder. My life was the toughest thing I had ever faced until I met mister. He made life simple. We had a rocky start though. I guess I’ll say that punches and kicks were thrown the first time, but his voice was intoxicating. It took every ounce of my being to stay up on my feet after hearing his words. He is so sweet to. He cried our first night together. We didn’t have sex or anything, just sat and talked. I acted like a child though. He told me to act like an adult. I was 19 so it was my fault. I can’t remember, but I believe it was I who started the fight. I love him now though. Writing is making me tired though. I wish you could see the moon. It’s very bright tonight.

Journal Entry no 29.

It never occurred to me that you probably don’t know why I use mister than his actual name. He told me when I started writing that I should never use his real name. I just wanted to clarify so you weren’t clueless. That’s it. I’ll talk to you later.

Journal Entry no 31.

I need to stop acting like such a child. Mister hits me if I act like a child. I don’t want you to worry though. It’s my fault. I did something I shouldn’t have done. After we are done working he apologizes. A kiss on the forehead is an understanding that he means it. I love mister. I hope he doesn’t read this entry. He makes me so nervous when he looks through my entry. He takes some pages out for his “personal business” as he likes to call it. I know it’s because he likes my writing. Oh, this is so girly. Like a high school crush, but I mean for this to be serious topics.

Journal entry no 32.

Mr. M. That’s the name of the guy we are taking for justice. He stopped funding a local orphanage. That’s what mister said. We’ll give those kiddies the justice they deserve. I’m an orphan now if you didn’t know. It was raining that day, you know, like in movies. My parents were horrible though. They didn’t care for my wellbeing. They hired Rosaline to take care of me. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. They’re in flames now to repent for what they did. I killed-

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Journal entry no 33.

Mr. M is gone. Mister took care of him. We got to keep a little of the money for our fee, but we ultimately gave the most to the orphanage. Radio is still telling lies about me and mister. I wish they would talk about those kids and how happy they are now. I wish I could’ve snapped a photo of them when they realized what we did for them. A smile is the only thing I wish to see. Mister is more concerned for our next job. It’s only a month away and we are driving back to Winnipeg. I can’t wait to get back to the house. I don’t know if I should say this, but I hope one day mister asks me to marry him. We could buy that house in Winnipeg and I could have children with mister and we could be happy. I think if I had a boy I would name him 

Journal Entry no 34.

I got to thinking about children again. I don’t want them in a world like this. It’s bad. Mister says that they could easily end up in an orphanage and nobody like us will be able to give them the money they deserve. When I first met mister, we watched a documentary about the Cambodia and the child soldiers they had there. I threw up and asked mister to turn it off, but he didn’t listen to me. I think I understand now why he didn’t turn it off. Life sucks then you die.

Journal Entry no 52.

Our last job, buddy. That’s what I’m thinking about right now. The last time I saw mister. I thought about the children we never had and the memories that were too few to count. I met my maternal grandma yesterday. I never met her before. She hugged me for the longest time. I don’t know why she was crying. It didn’t make sense to me. She never met me. The police officers allowed me to talk with her before returning to my room. It was small with no bed. I fell asleep and dreamed of the first time me and mister shared a bed. He embraced me ever so gently. Like a love story. My grandma told me about her life. She got pregnant with my mom when she was only 16. She worked hard her whole life and my mom still turned out as a demon. I told that to my grandma but she was blind to the fact and worshiped my mom. I told her what I did to mom and dad and she ran out of the room crying. I tried to explain to her the demons that my mom and dad had become, but she was crying too much. They took me away.

Journal entry no 53.

I went to the courthouse today. I didn’t know what I did but they said I had killed some people. I told them about Robin Hood and mister. The judge looked at me for the longest time. He squinted at me. He was creepy, but I just smiled at him. It took him a while before he finally told me that I was to be sent to a hospital. I like hospitals. Before mister, I wanted to be a nurse. I love helping people. I read about a nurse who would kill babies. I think that is the worst sin. I hope she is burning in the hottest flames. Before I left the judge told me “Good Luck.” I like that he did that.

Journal entry no 58.

I’m staying at the hospital. I’m a temporary resident, but I like the wristband I’m given to wear. Purple, my favorite color. It is nice hear but I wish they didn’t lock the door at night. I get nightmares and I want to walk around. Some of the nurses are nice to me while others are mean. They tell me some of the stories they have of being a nurse. I tell them about my stay with mister. Some of them frown and hurry away. The nicer one give me a smile and walk away. My doctor is Ms. Shaffer. She is short and blonde with very curly hair. She likes to pat my hand and call me dear. I call her buddy, just like you. We don’t talk about a lot. I just tell her about mister and the house in Winnipeg. I love to talk about Winnipeg. I wish I lived in Winnipeg, or at least that the Hospital was in Winnipeg. After I get out of the hospital, I’m going to buy that house in Winnipeg.

Journal entry no 60.

Some of the other residents have begun to refer to me as “Stockholm.” I ask them what that means but they never tell me. They all act strange except for Dotty. Dotty sneaks into my room at night some times. She had sex with a guard and stole his key. She likes to curse and smoke cigarettes. I bet she would like mister. My grandma comes to visit me from time to time. She cries sometimes but Ms. Shaffer always comforts her. I don’t know what they talk about. I know they talk about me because they always send me out of the room to discuss something private. That’s usually when grandma cries. I wish she was strong like me. I can only think of one time when I cried. I tried to run away from mister the third night I was with him. I can’t remember the reason why, but I cried after he brought me back. I still can’t recollect what reason I would have to run away from mister. He makes me strong.

 

Journal entry no 61.

Dotty snuck into my room again last night. I asked her what the name Stockholm meant. She said it wasn’t a name but rather a place. Of course I knew that. It’s in Sweden, but she said a place that only a few people visit. “Some never leave.” That’s what she said. She gave me a hug and that was the first time I looked into her eyes. They were so sad. I gave her a kiss on the forehead just like mister. She told me not to mention him again. I asked her why and she told me he was bad. I told her he wasn’t and asked her to leave for being mean to him. I love mister and I know I will see him again.

Journal entry no 62.

Today is a bad day, buddy. All the residents were gathered around the TV. A news report came on about mister. He died in a gunfight with police. I still don’t understand why. Mister was good, he helped so many people, including me. I think I acted like a real crazy person. It all happened so fast I don’t remember too well. Ms. Shaffer was there. I don’t know how long I was crying into her coat. It seemed like forever. I think I might be the right fit for this hospital. I’m ending my journals for a while. Ms. Shaffer said that she is going to start helping me on getting out of here. I like her. She’s nice, like mister.

Journal entry no 63.

As I look over the entries from my previous mind, it’s clear to me how fucked up I really was. I should explain. I’m 21 as of July 14, 1984. My name is Claire. I was kidnapped from my home on the night of May 18, 1983. The shock of the situation created my mind to revert to a younger age. From the looks of my entries, I would guess between 6 and 12 years old. As my mind reverted it also created a likeness for my captor and of his cause. He was hitting major business men for “crimes against people.” My parents happened to be on the list for outsourcing work to overseas. I killed my parents. You may be concerned with me, my friend. Don’t be. I grieved over this when Dr. Shaffer pieced my mind back together. Dorothy “Dotty” Anne Shaffer, sister of my doctor, lent me a pack of cigarettes a day to cope. It didn’t take me a day to smoke them. I guess my life will not be normal for a while. I have 49 more weeks in the hospital and final evaluation before a judge before I’m allowed back into society. I’ve begun developing a relationship with my grandma. She’s agreed to let me live in her house and fund my college. I didn’t even think about going back to college. Well, I think this will be my last journal entry. At least in this journal. My medication is kicking in and Dotty will be coming to my room in a bit. I’ll see you Space Cowboy. Hopefully our next time will be on better terms.


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