Friday, May 27, 2011

The Notebook: Annette

Annette was already in a mental institution when The Mad Ventriloquist met her. She had been found in the same house as her dead roomate, sitting in the corner and muttering about a tall man. She never stopped muttering, and the jury believed the insanity defense. She was placed in a high security facility, but Minori knew people.

Minori was the only reason The Mad Ventriloquist was there. She was very persuasive. A gun may have been involved. But it was the true start of the notebook so The Mad Ventriloquist can have no regrets.

The Mad Ventriloquist took the notes. He also had a tape recorder to make sure he caught everything. Minori asked the questions.

Annette muttered.

Minori asked questions for two hours. Annette did nothing but mumble.  She and The Mad Ventriloquist had almost given up. Then Minori mentioned her own sister. Then Annette said this:

"I had a sister too. He took her. He took her and I think I helped. Emily was trying to find out what happened. They say I killed her. I guess I did. I'm sorry for your sister. But you shouldn't look any further." She started muttering after that.

The Mad Ventriloquist doesn't agree with Annette. Annette was silenced. They locked her up and no one but The Mad Ventriloquist believed her. The Mad Ventriloquist has seen this technique before. Silence gives him power. He goes after those seeking the truth because it is an act of defiance. Speaking is dangerous, but it is brave. It is noble.

It is really late. The Mad Ventriloquist needs to pay more attention to time.


  1. Okay, so I saw your silly ass posts over on that douchebag's blog so I come over here to see what the fuck you're going on about. And all I see is all these fucking cryptic ass drunken messages.


    You fucking talk in third-person like you're some sort of big shot. You're always talking about drinking, like some frat boy trying to seem cool. And that's not even the half of it.

    You act like this has a point. You act like any of our stories matter. You know what? They don't. We live, we get wrapped up in this shit, we die. That's it. That's fucking it. It doesn't matter if some wino on the Internet keeps posting our stories online, we're still fucking dead.

    And not only that, but the wino gives advice. Oh, because THAT isn't at all dangerous.

    I mean, seriously, what the hell?

  2. The Mad Ventriloquist is confused. He does say what he means. He thought he was saying it very clearly.

    And everything has a point. Everyone has a point, dead or alive. And they deserve to have their stories told. They deserve to matter. Even if just to wino on the internet.

  3. No. You do not say things clearly. You prattle on about grasshoppers and shit. Fucking grasshoppers! Like those are important!

    Nothing has a point, okay? What happens when the wino dies, hmm? Who the fuck is going to tell their stories then? No one. No one is going to give a damn about your notebook and all the names of the people in it, no matter how wonderful or tragic those people and their stories are.

    We're here and then we're fucking gone. All that matters is accomplishing something, fucking SOMETHING, before the latter happens. It doesn't matter if anyone else in this hellhole remembers us afterward, as long as we make an impact.

  4. Grasshoppers are very scary.

    After The Mad Ventriloquist dies? Someone will notice. Someone will carry things on. Whether it is something large like a successor or something small like Kiera getting mad at him.

    Memories and stories matter. They affect people, they teach, they give knowledge. Speaking is accomplishing something. It is leaving something behind. It is dropping a speck of hope for someone at their lowest to find.

    Although The Mad Ventriloquist wonders why it bothers Kiera so much. If it means nothing, why speak against it?

  5. Are you fucking joking about the grasshoppers? Tell me you're fucking joking. You know, some of us live in the real world. The one filled with war, strife, and men in business suits that are much scarier than some fucking bug that can be squashed.

    Stories might give someone ideas or hope or whatever the hell they happen to take from it, but that isn't enough unless someone fucking acts. Just telling stories never changed a goddamn thing, action did. Action changes the world. Not sitting around fucking talking.

    And why speak against it? I dunno. Something about a passive, drunk, crazy-ass person like you just pisses me the hell off.

  6. Some people are better off not acting. It's best for them to just step back and let other people be inspired by them, before they just mess everything up.

  7. Normally, I would fucking disagree. In your case, however, maybe it IS good your drunk ass isn't bumbling around knocking shit over.

  8. The Mad Ventriloquist has only done that once. Maybe twice.

    Perhaps when Kiera's actions make her responsible for something she is not proud of, she can come here and yell some more.

  9. Only twice? My, my, you're one of those legendary stable drunks.

    And don't make me laugh. I've done fucking plenty I'm not proud of. I just have more important shit to do than sit around crying about it. Grief and self-loathing can wait.

  10. The Mad Ventriloquist is not crying. Nor does he regret. But he understands that sometimes the best action is to not act at all.

    And yes, he is a stable drunk. Once he was in even a stable drunk in a stable.

  11. Don't stop posting. It's a great way to see how others have dealt with it, and it will help plenty of people. If nothing else, who doesn't love a good story?

  12. Kiera, this is a bit late, but...stories are a fundamental part of being human. People have been telling stories since they were smart enough to scratch bison onto cave walls.

    And this might not make much sense, but if someone's life becomes a story, when they die, it's not really the end. They'll be remembered. Everyone dies, some sooner than others, some in worse ways than others, some more tragically than others. The point isn't to not die, the point is to be remembered so you don't disappear when you do.

    And I like The Mad Ventriloquist's writing style. It reminds me of Lemony Snicket.

  13. You. Me. Beer. Stories. Someday.

    And Kiera. Stop being a fucking bitch. Leave the man be. You aren't helping.

    Just keep moving.

  14. I side with the crazy guy in this one. Telling stories can help keep someone sane, when nothing else can. Hearing of those that survive, and understanding what caused it helps as well. Not only that, but what if this is his release? His sanctuary? Even the illusion of helping someone may keep the Fear at bay. So honestly, if you have such a problem with someone who is a pacifist in this fucked up violent world, I suggest you go and do something that actually means a damn. Instead of going after a man that wants to help, do something and stop whining. Which is exactly what you've "not been doing."

  15. So, hey. Question. What ever happened to that voice recorder of yours? Wouldn't there be some audio floating around if it still existed?