|Date||12 March 2011|
|References||BBC - Official Website|
Christa wrote the following diarie entry:
I REALLY don’t want to do this! I’m only just coming to terms with what I am, what I become once a month. I don’t think I’ve even said the word to myself, not alone, not facing a mirror. And now, not only have I just shrugged and casually implied to Matt & Adam what they’ve known all along. I’ve volunteered as a bloodhound. WHAT WAS I THINKING?!
So our half-baked shambolic plan? Well, we wait until it’s nearly full moon, when my senses are at their height, and then I run around school, hopefully fighting the urge to sniff everyone’s backside and wee against a lamppost. And somewhere en route, find Matt’s body.
The’ (crossed out) That’s the ideal outcome. Obviously there’s always a plan B, where they fail to get me to some woods or whatever in time, I fully transform, then leap on Adam and rip him to pieces and EAT him. Then I run riot through the town, killing dozens of smokers hanging around outside pubs, proving once and for all that Smoking is bad for you!
On the whole I think I prefer plan A.
But seriously, the idea of using a werewolf to sniff out Matt’s body? I know it was my idea but it’s hardly genius. It’s like using dynamite to clear your sinuses! As if it’s just some common or garden doggy, that we can leash or pet or make roll over and play dead. Which is what everyone else will be doing if we mess this up.
I’m making jokes about this, but it’s the same kind of jokes people make in mortuaries. Or in Nuclear Weapon Silos. ‘Hope we don’t blow up the world today! Ha Ha Ha.’ Because if you don’t laugh you’ll CRY. For a very long time. With your music up loud to cover the sound.
Do you know why your nose runs when you cry? Because your nasal passages and your tear ducts are connected, and if the tears can’t get out of your eyes, they overflow into your nose. That’s not real snot, it’s kind of ‘tear snot’. And you know in films when the hero kisses away someone’s tears? Do you think someone explained to him about tear snot, he’s kiss that away too??
No, I don’t think so either.
That might sound a [bit grose] – (crossed out) little gross, but my gross tolerance has gone up quite a bit lately. There’s nothing like puking up a half digested rabbit or fox or rotting rubbish once a month to rid you of the whole girly squeamishness thing. I’ve got to tell you, it seems the other me will eat absolutely ANYTHING. But then when I become myself again, my stomach gets a little bit picky and promptly decides to rid of whatever
The other me ate.
I just really, REALLY don’t want to throw up half digested Adam.
Sometimes it feels like we are playing out all of this; playing at detective, playing at being teenagers. But the reality of what we are is BIG & DARK & VAST & OLD! And it’s just waiting for us to mess up, put a foot wrong and fall into darkness. And then it will HAVE US. And there’ll be no coming back from that. And our attempts to act human will be seen as brittle and false.
And sometimes it feels like we’re there already. Wearing masks called Adam and Christa and Matt. Doing our best to sound young and carefree, while the truth of what we are gnaws at us.
And sometimes I think I really should stop listening to RADIOHEAD!"
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