This little ditty comes from Chapter 8: The Nightmare Continues
They made sure all evidence of this episode went away, literally, when they marched me down to the burning barrel, late one afternoon. They handed me my diary and instructed me to throw the pages into the flames, like some sort of sacramental ceremony. I couldn't believe what I was being asked to do! As much as it killed me, I knew I mustn't waiver and blow my cover. I'd come so far to turn back now, my pride and beliefs would have to take a back seat, momentarily. Against every fiber of my being, I threw a handful of pages into the charred barrel, watching my naked soul burn in the orange glow, fighting back tears of grief. Chunk by chunk, pages of lined notebook paper, with my private words, thoughts, and feelings, melted in the flames. Bits of paper ash floating skyward, filling the atmosphere, polluting the air with my dirty laundry. Watching in horror, as the play-by-play documentation of the most significant phase of my life was slowly being destroyed, right before my eyes voluntarily, by my own hands. How cruel, how ironic. I could only pray that I would never forget the most minuet of details. Each memory, each piece, held a special place in my soul. How could I forget? I knew I never would. They'd never control my mind, my memories, or who I loved. And I certainly would never forget what they had taken from me.
My only salvation was to know they had not succeeded in breaking me. Burning those pages did not erase the truth. I had found my soul-mate, and we would be together again, no amount of torture was going to change that fact. It would only be a matter of time.
Whatever doesn't kill us, only makes us stronger, right? Funny, Peggy never preached that saying.
Make that two points for Lisa.
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