4/12/98. This is me. I am not safe, not here, not good to be around. And there is no new life for me. Death is coming closer, endless pain.

I want to hurt them all. I want to hurt him most of all who holds out hope.

Pain is the only way out.

4/14/98. I'm tired of living in this stupid, soft, woman's body. I'm tired of being nice. She is getting stronger; it isn't as easy to control her as to push around a bunch of little ones. Maybe it isn't even as necessary.