Diablo’s unwanted midnight visits take their toll. I barely eat and I no longer leave my room. Maria and Rosa are concerned with my failing spirits and attempt to entice me out of my bed with goodies they bake especially for me and all sorts of other stuff.
‘You must take a walk, Señorita,’ Rosa pleads. ‘Walk is good for you. It is good for the … exercise.’
I nod but continue sleeping. Later, she brings me a pile of out-dated magazines to read, but they’re in Spanish. However, I find an unused notebook between them and I start to journal my thoughts.
14 July 2002
Diablo is a monster. Wait; make that an ugly, hideous, disgusting, revolting mother of a freak. Totally repulsive. Loathe him. Hate his stupid, barbaric, ruthless family. Especially his miserable alcoholic mother. Want to slash off his dick and let him die. Hate this place. It’s evil and dark. Want to burn it down with Diablo in it.
Austin, my first love. My Ken doll. Handsome, loving and kind. I forgive him for dumping me and marrying Paris. I forgive him for falling under her spell. He’s human – he did what most men do when they see Paris. The relationship we had was too good to be true. Beautiful people like him don’t happen to girls like me, but I hanker after him. Still. That’s cos I’m a dumb fuck. Here’s another confession: I love his baby and whenever I hold him, I pretend he’s mine. Mine and Austin’s. I’m obsessed with Austin, I know that. I need therapy big time, I know that, but thinking about him and how much I love him gives me the energy to continue.