I haven't written a diary since I was a child. Before my childhood became a scarred and twisted thing. I'd tell a friend, but I have none. I'd confess to a priest, but how could I trust one? So it is up to you to hold my secrets, my triumphs and my losses.

For as long as I could remember, I have always been me. Moving along, watching behind, running and garnering furtive glances. The smear of red goo will always haunt me. All that blood, but it was also freedom, and beginning.

I have decided that I am going to be someone else now. I took a contract job as a reporter, but in doing so, my name will be available and a record for anyone to see. For anyone to track me by if anyone is still looking. I have chosen another name.

Are you ready for this? It is fairly exciting. Molly Buttonwood. What a great reporter name right?

Reporting and cleaning. Contract work, fairly low paid, but still legitimate. If I can maintain it, I will never again have to repeat my history to make money. Molly Buttonwood is fresh, and clean and happy. No cares plague her mind. I have already obtained identification and thus, today is the first day of my mangled legitimacy. Drapeta died so that Molly may live.

So onto the really good news. Things are looking up. I made cards and am enclosing one.
Business Card";
I will earn money, and pay taxes and do the things that normal everyday Americans do.

As a contract reporter if I do end up getting contracts to clean up Crime Scenes I can gather information of what happened at the scene, for double pay. Double legitimate pay.
Paid for the clean up and for the article. How great is that!

Thanks for being here when I needed you most Diary.