\\devil with the black dress on//
\\my scooby gang//
[note: this is a journal entry assignment I did for English class in response to the short story Harrison Bergeron]
August 7, 2081
They visited again, just as vivid as the first encounter. My body is trembling, too
afraid to call up the emotions and pictures they stirred through my every fiber. There’s an
entity, black as coals, who is terribly disfigured. His frayed shadow clomps towards my
bedside. I am frozen, as if invisible ties strap me down. He grips my wrists, cutting of my
blood supply and weakening by bones. His fingernails dig into my pale skin and as he
releases my wrists, he runs his nails up both arms. Dark satin trickles down my fragile
skin, a metallic odor filling the room. The man moves faster than I can track him and
before my mind comprehends, my lungs are screaming bloody murder.
However, my life doesn’t seem to fall way, but I am stuck in a miasma of death.
My eyes dart furiously, which is when I notice a haggard old woman. Her grimy black
cloak is ragged and torn. It appears that every single possession of hers is carried on her
body: a muddy, stained-brown shawl, and a thrifty canvas handbag. Her stringy, white
hair partially hides her deeply etched, pale-gray face. Within seconds she is sitting on my
chest. Her weight is heavy enough to constrict my breathing, but not quite enough to end
this eternal nightmare. Time freezes, my eyes taking in the freakish tableau. I find myself
able to inhale before I am plunged back to this chilling reality. The old woman snarls and
raises her hand. My face stings, searing pain shrieking from every single nerve ending.
My surroundings become translucent crimson and murky shadows become all I can
ascertain. The man and woman then retreat, slinking backwards and glowering, becoming
revenants of a persistent, perpetual hell.
My usually lithe body is left listless, with static buzzing in my ears. It’s like a tape
stuck on repeat, the fear, the pain, every single detail down to my emotions are identical to
their first visit... The urge to fall into the dream world is calling me, forcing my controls
to surrender; the dawn will be rising shortly.
August 8, 2081
Last night’s happenings surfaced even more reasons why this superficial,
Hollywood-run world still needs to be wholly equal. My fingers burn when I trace the
scabs which should’ve by now become faint scars. The spirits have chosen me to be the
dominator, the Handicapper-General, but it has come with a price. Their ceaseless
vexations have given me paralyzing phantasms but also a tremendous strength with which
to dominate the human race. My own re-opened lacerations have given me new faith in
my plan. No one shall defy me...no one shall defy another. A world of chaos, Pandora’s
Box as I tend to believe, will cease to be. The world I have created...is truly perfection.
August 11, 2081
The last three days have been a horrendous display of typical human behavior.
Harrison Bergeron, the boy we captured some years ago, has been harassing the guards
who watch over him. His delinquency has forced us to take drastic measures in keeping
society protected from the beast he is. I fear for the safety of my well-ordered world and
for the security of my carefully meticulated scheme. The pain is returning as I think of
Harrison. My face burns and my arms pulsate with a withering pain. I must-
August 11, 2081
What a massacre. My heart defies my mind, thumping loud enough to drown out
even the most tumultuous of noises. Harrison Bergeron, the one person in the whole
world who could overturn my beautiful wickedness, escaped from his prison cell. Within
minutes I had received word of the predicament transpiring at the studio. The maniacal
young man had stripped himself of all his handicaps, to reveal the truly hideous monster
beneath. I can still feel how my heart skipped a beat as I walked into the studio. My pulse
slowed for a fifth of a second, my footsteps falling in slow motion. The horrific sight filled
my eyes and I lost control of my mind. Harrison Bergeron and his ravishingly divine
ballerina hung in the air in the dance of romance, not knowing what their future was to
behold...that they had already sold their fate. Two shots rang out, my body jerking
backwards with each blast. The heinous sound resonated through my soul, inducing a
catatonic state. The elderly man and woman...the appalling scabs...Harrison Bergeron
being locked up, then escaping...and finally, the first droplet of blood splashing onto
earth, signifying the exact reason this ideality was created. I would never be inferior
again. The wounds may never heal, but no one will ever be better...no one will now have
to go through the suffering I was put through. I will reign forever more.