The Novella Life of Illuscia Nester Himawari

    I was born and raised in Sheboygan, Wisconsin . Unless you live nearby you’ve probably never heard of it. Even people in the large Wisconsin cities (Madison, Milwaukee) don’t know we exist. Wisconsin in general is known for our cheese, our cows, and our love of beer. And of course for our excess of mental institutions and serial killers. Ed Gein and Jeffery Dahmer hail from my home state. In case you’ve been living under a rock, they are two of the most infamous serial killers in America. I don’t know if it’s the cold climate or what, but we seem to breed quite a bit of crazy up here. Sheboygan is not immune from the crazy. We have this old abandoned asylum by the highway. Here’s a picture of it from an old post card . It used to house the criminally insane, at least according to local folklore. This is where the Milk White legend came from. Milk White was supposedly a patient at the asylum. He was born there, h...

    So it all ends with me dying. Not literally, of course. Not figuratively either. Philosophically maybe? How did we get here? How does a simple home video lead to such violence, death , and the utter dismantlement of my perceived reality ? I guess that’s what you’re here to find out. Justin kept trying to call me, kept sending me messages, but I was still in no condition to respond. I’m not sure if you’ve caught on to this, but my mental state can sometimes be described as rather flimsy. When facing distress, I have this slight tendency to fall into bottomless pits of anxiety, and there’s really not much I can do about it. Except petting Dave, that is. So that’s what I did, for half an hour straight. Just kept stroking his silky feline exterior, the shiny orange fur soon enough stained with crimson patches of blood. I still hadn’t found time to clean up. Where could I clean up? My bathtub, and by extension my shower, was filled with what remai...

    What does a sane mind look like when subjugated by waves of unrelenting madness? An innocent home video turned into murderous slaughter. Normal, loving parents morphing into deceitful, homicidal maniacs . The very foundation under my metaphorical feet disappearing, leaving my fragile psyche spiraling into the unknown abyss. Yes, I tend to get just a little bit philosophical when I’m under a lot of stress. I suppose, under normal circumstances, it helps calm my nerves, but as I sat in that dark cabin cradling Dave like a little baby - my “mom’s” sinister words echoing repeatedly in my head - I felt no relief in delving into the soothing corners of fatalism. The situation required swift action. Swift, decisive, well-executed action. Not my strong suit. So I did what I imagine anyone in my situation would do; I called my big brother. He’d know what to do. He was my polar opposite in many ways; charismatic, athletic, outgoing, funny. He could make w...

    I’m sorry I haven’t been able to update sooner, but it’s been a crazy couple of days, and quite frankly it wasn’t on top of my todo-list given the urgency of my current situation. I’ll do my best to give an accurate description of the events that followed the brutal demolition of my life as I know it , but time isn’t exactly on my side, so I’ll have to keep it brief. After the text from “mom” I didn’t have time to think. I didn’t know what to think either, I just knew I had to get out of there before my “dad” arrived. So in a panicky haze I quickly grabbed the laptop, and Dave the cat - who’d been loitering diligently just outside the door - and ran down the deserted street sobbing hysterically. I had no idea where I was going, or what I was doing. I guess I just figured that running was a solid plan given the circumstances. I got about halfway down the block before the rational part of my brain interfered. Why am I running? Shouldn’t I show th...

I don’t celebrate birthdays anymore. When you get older you try to forget they even exist. You really don’t need a reminder telling you you’re slowly becoming an outdated dinosaur, and I’ve always found commemorating the harrowing approach of your own death a rather morbid notion. So I suppose having my birthday in the middle of a nationwide lockdown was somewhat of a godsend. That didn’t stop my mother from sending me a present though. She always found a way to annoy me, in the best way possible, and she’d out-fiddle the devil himself just to put a smile on my face. I don’t know how she did it, but this morning, when I went to let Dave, my cat, out, I nearly tripped over it. An anonymous brown package just laying there, inside my flat. How the hell did she pull that off? I chuckled internally as I desperately tried to decipher what was scribbled on the front of the package. It was clearly in her handwriting. I’d recognize it anywhere. The worst f’ing h...

  Once upon a time, there was a King who had four wives. He loved the fourth wife the most, spoiling her with his deepest affection and providing her with only the finest things life could offer. He also loved the third wife and proudly displayed her to the neighboring kingdoms. He relied a lot on his second wife. She was his trusted advisor and companion. Whenever the King faced a problem, he could confide in her, and she would help him get through the difficult times. However, not much can be said about his first wife. Despite her significant contributions to maintaining his kingdom and her tireless efforts to win his love and admiration, the King barely noticed her existence. One day, the King fell gravely ill. Despite his efforts to find a cure, he realized that his time was running out. He reflected on his majestic life and decided to spend everything to prolong it, leading him to consult a mystical sorcerer. The sorcerer said, “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but nothing can be don...