Map's Page

Written by Pam

Here are some things Map wrote to a friend.

First letter:

I'm not sure I am willing to tell my name, but I don't mind being called the black one. I'm 17 most of the time and very lonely. No one seems to see me.

I'm definitely not like the other outside girls--I don't know anything about clothes and makeup and that sort of thing. I can't talk their language at all, so I ignore them. There is another one inside who is in love, but I think she is disgusting. It is just asking for someone to see how dirty and deformed we are.

I don't believe it when people say I am not evil or the horrible things that happened were not my fault. I could have run away. My grandfather was 90 years old. He slobbered on me; it was disgusting. It makes me want to throw up. I want to be fat, and a boy, so no one looks at me that way again.

I like your story about eating the fireball candies so people would say you were sad. But I would probably just say: "No, I'm not sad, I'm eating fireball candies." What do the stupid people know anyway? They can't help. I'm not going to ask anyone for help--then they might find out about the bad stuff and hate me.

I don't know if hurting myself does any good. I'm not brave enough to do it. That bothers me most, that I am not brave enough to do the bad things I want to do. I'm a failure at being bad along with everything else.

I hope you don't get mad at me for writing such bad stuff. So long as no one says anything too stupid to me, I am going to stay, even though I complain a lot. I'm really very scared that if I run away I will be alone and have no one to take care of me. I think the therapist believed in me, anyway, and he didn't say anything too stupid. I wish he had, actually, so that I could have said something mean to him.

Second letter:

I don't have time to write a proper answer right now. I had to push to get to even start because the big one has to teach in 15 minutes. Did you not get my name? It is Pam backwards, because I want to turn everything upside down. We tried writing it upside down in a letter on paper, but then it didn't look like Pam at all because the m looked like a W and the P looked like a D. I'm feeling more comfortable with people knowing my name--you can use it.

I'm glad you like me okay even though I am so bad. I like you. The big one is getting more uptight about time, but I'm not going to make it easy. I really want to write you about the bad things. But I better not start. I will be back!

I'm back now, the next day. I'm glad you know others like me, and don't just think I am too bad. I'm glad I am talking to you and not to someone who is just like me. And I am glad we are both talking about the bad stuff.

I don't say mean things very much. I haven't been allowed to (by the others inside). But I think them. It would be good to be funny about it.

That is horrible that the people next door told the grandfather where to find you. It just isn't fair that kids don't have any rights. Your grandfather taking his teeth out makes my skin crawl--yyyyuuuuccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk! Did he die soon? Mine did. Serves him right.

Why didn't you run away? Why didn't I run away? When I finally did make sure I never got near him again, it worked. But I wanted someone to care about me so much that I always thought the yucky stuff wasn't quite real. And I owed him. I guess he had me trained. Yuck.

I've had a horrid day. We had to clean out the refrigerator this morning because we were getting a new one. Then the big one has been busy with lots of dumb little things at work. And she was going to call the therapist but forgot to at the right moment (scheduled touch-base call). I guess I wanted to know he believed in me, even if I am going to be mean to him. The big one has a project she is supposed to work on that she is avoiding--stupid. Someone hurt her feelings so she doesn't like to work on it.

The big one told the survivors group about me last night and I don't think they really got it. So I am uptight about wanting someone to take me seriously. Running away (with the body!) would achieve that, but I'm afraid I don't know how. We will give the big one and the outsiders a chance to work out a compromise, I guess, if they show they are properly scared. Much as I would like to knock down the house of cards, I know it would create a whole lot of extra stupid work.

I think that is neat that you do gymnastics. I wanted to be a boy too much to do anything like that, besides I had pigeon toes. Some of the other teens like horses, but I don't like anything that makes the body feel whole.

It really is cool to be writing to you. It makes me feel like I am real, even if the big one is still scared of me. I'm not sure if she thinks I'm not real or if she is afraid I am too strong. I'm really not trying to do any harm.

Better not admit that. Anyway, I'm not up to telling anymore bad stuff today, but I am awfully glad you are there. I wish there was something we could do together.