Dear Angelika,

I do not know what to say anymore. I am no longer keen on even writing to you because the news is so bad. There are bruises, all over my body, on parts of me that I have never wanted to be touched. My body is black and blue, red too. All over.

Can you even imagine what that feels like?

I suppose, maybe you can. It is not up to me to presume to know your experience.

Things have happened to me, sister, things I do not ever wish to remember again. Yet every single time I close my eyes, there it is, happening to me over and over.

This world is not glamorous, it is not entertainment in the way that I presumed it would be. It is deadly and dangerous, nightmarish to the core. I do not understand why anyone would wish this upon themselves.

Everyone from the circus is entertainment to the outside world, but as a prop, a toy, rather than a human being. They do not have one shred of decency towards us, as the mess of my body shows.

You have had experiences with the opposite sex too, haven't you, Angelika? I do hope it did not feel to you the way that it did to me.

They say when you experience trauma that you should be able to escape in your mind. Your brain should protect you and take you somewhere beautiful, but that is not the experience that I have had. That is because the world is not a beautiful place.

The world is ugly, sister, it is filled with something so hideous I cannot even find the words for it. I hate it. I hate it. I cannot explain to you the hate I feel. It is as if a beast, a fiery hot red demon, has crawled within me and it wants to break free, to do some real damage, to rid the world of its ugliness.

It knows how to do it as well.

I have a blade, Angelika. I am twisting it between my fingers as I speak. I know with utter certainty that I need to take revenge on the world, to rid it of this ugliness. It is my purpose. I do not know how I understand this, but I do. It is what I have been put here for. I do not have any choice in my actions.

But who do I take revenge on?

The freaks who fight among themselves, who blame the world for their issues, who are aesthetically ugly? Or the men with true evil lying in their hearts? They might look beautiful to the outside world, but there is something truly disgusting inside of them?

I know this must scare you, sister, and I am truly sorry for that. But this is what I must do.

Blood will be shed, you mark my words. The next time you hear from me, I will have made a difference to this place.

Your sister forever,

Diamonique.