Mally's Diary: October 2049
Posted by anonymous.
After the downfall of local cyber-ware enthusiast gang NONE MORE METAL, a collection of diary entries was discovered at [DATA
EXPUNGED], New Rome. The details appear to be from one of the gang's more eccentric, potentially mentally unstable members.
Read at your own discretion.
Entry 1
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By Maleficent
October 2049
Mary, Mary, quite
contrary, how does your garden grow?
With silver bells and
cockle shells, and pretty maids all in a row.
Mr Lombardi used to
recite that poem to me often, usually when I was in detention. I’d always
ponder why. Not necessarily why he recited poems, that was something common for
him (quite the literary geek if you will). No, dear diary, I pondered why he
chose that one, and always that one.
It seemed like a nice
poem on the surface. Perhaps, one could argue it was accurate too. Yes, I
suppose I was always changing my mind. I’ve always gotten bored easily. Ever
the child prodigy I used to finish my schoolwork far more quickly than my peers.
In the time that I had left my golden brain would wander and wonder about many
things. I’d conjure up fantastic plans of mischief, question why my idiotic
classmates couldn’t catch up to me, stare curiously at Mr Lombardi’s newly dyed moustache.
The swirling, spiralling cacophony of chatter would cease at the call of the bell.
My only thought then was what to have for lunch…
Looking back at little
Mary, all alone scarfing down on her Nutella and marmite sandwich, I can see how
she’d drift into destructive daydreams. Cold blue eyes flickering on and off at
the peers laughing from inside the school, dumping their rubbish on her back
through the window. Every act was a small spark of inspiration. One, freckly, rat
faced girl ‘accidentally’ spills her yoghurt.
Can I develop a working slingshot from the material on
my desk?
The yoghurt slinks under
the school shirt collar.
If I fire it, can I blame it on good little Lucy?
It turns out the answer
to both was yes. Momma’s an engineer and Lucy is a stuttering bitch who can’t
defend herself.
Detention came for other
reasons, like forgetting homework (a self-appointed genius has better things to
do, like melting ant hills)
When I got there, it
turns out stutter bitch had ragged on me by writing it all down. That’s the
first time Mr Lombardi recited the poem.
At the time, I thought he
was just being funny. Yeah, yeah, I’m contrary, I’m weird, I get it. Back then
the things I did could be considered stupid for one so intelligent. The degree
of my mischief fluctuated by the day. Small pranks, the occasional near-death
experience. I didn’t care. When have I ever cared?
I came across that poem
again last night, in the midst of research. Turns out Mr Lombardi was either a
dick or a sadist, or both.
From what I can gather,
the original meaning of this old English tale has something to do with torture
and a woman named Bloody Mary. This delightful lady used the supposed ‘silver
bells’ and ‘cockleshells’ to mutilate the thumbs and genitals of protestants.
If they survived that, then it was execution for them. Her supposed garden has
been interpreted as a graveyard of the damned souls she forcefully put to rest.
Now, as a teacher I
expect Mr Lombardi knew this so one must wonder if what he saw in me that I
reminded him of a gruesome (though very awesome) story.
Is violence and death all
that awaits my future?
[Redacted due to messy scribblings and inappropriate images]
Sorry for disappearing,
but I have exciting news dear diary. None-More Metal got back to me about my
request to tail their exploits. With supposed high stakes plans on the horizon,
seems they need all the hands they can get.
I’m so bloody excited.
What appears to be a hand drawn image was found at the bottom. I have left it for impact. Warning for mildly disturbing content.
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