The sun rises and I start to wake up, but it isn't because of the light. There is something- a hot, organic weight- pressing down into my stomach. For a moment I panic, and my mind races. Even after the thing meows and starts pawing at its own tail, it takes me a while to realize what it is.

It's Sparky. Hello, Sparky.

Sparky rolls onto his back and makes a show of trying to grab the golden bars that are penetrating the darkness of my room. I feel like I can see each and every indivual dust mote, each and every molecule, as it floats down and passes through the sunlight. Sparky meows again, bored, but I don't really hear him. There's a noise in my ears- an uncomfortable electronic ringing that competes with itself, getting louder and louder until I feel like the hunchback, trapped in a bell tower. I can almost feel the stones of the gothic architecture rattle under my feet, and the rain of plaster and splinters and dust as the belltower threatens to shake itself apart.

Then Sparky meows again, and the noise that brought tears to my eyes is suddenly gone, like it had never been there. I don't like when it does that, and I check under the bed and in the corners of the room for the hidden speakers. The hidden speakers have got to be here somewhere, otherwise I wouldn't hear the things I've heard.

I know that I'm a little crazy, but I'm not stupid. I read Catch-22 when I was a kid, and I know that if I think something is totally crazy, then it means that I'm not really crazy. Well, I really think it's crazy for someone to sneak into my room and plant hidden speakers so that they could torture me with sound. That's psychological warfare, and I've done nothing wrong.

 Nothing wrong.

When I find the crazy bastards who did this to me, though, I'm going to kill them.

I watch the cat saunter out, and I feel a sense of relief and gratitude that Mrs Sparky and Mr Sparky had him. It's like he was put here just to protect me, sometimes. I love Sparky the way I never could have loved someone like you.

I decided earlier that I will start keeping a food journal and a dream journal. I remember reading, on the internet, that it's important to keep track of that kind of thing.

Food Journal Entry #1 - I don't remember.

Dream Journal Entry #1 - I don't remember.

 I think this will be a great help to me in the future.

Sparky has caught a mouse. Or a baby rat. I don't know what the difference is, to be honest. When I was a kid, I thought mice grew up to be rats. Honest to God I did.

Sparky's mouse is dead. He is bringing it over here and I think he wants me to have it.

It could be important. Sparky wouldn't just give me something if it wasn't important.

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Food Journal Entry #2 - One dead mouse or baby rat.