This is an actual guestbook entry, written by Star's best friend Cody, who incidentally was/is also one of my friends, while he still lived here. Presently he resides in a place far away from where I live. I think Star once explained the situation behind this story, but I don't remember what it is. So. Read and enjoy.


We say hello to all of those that are lost... And maybe to a few that are found... So may I ask when does it end? May we never know the true end? Has it ended? Did it end in A.R.P? Or did it end in room six acute male section two? At a point in time we thought that we might as well crank up the synapse and live twice as long... Unfortunataly we discoverd that this would lead only to our demise... But what doesn't these days? The window did this! Or was it the Book from 1953?

It might have been the constant voices. Maybe It was the voice that talked to us. The one in the socket? Yes! That was it! Not A.R.P. For that was only the begining of what seemed like years of constant thought. The place on the water that claimed that I was of no harm to the people on the outside of the walls. The place where screams would wake us at night as a fourteen year old girl tried to stab the guard in the face with a pen that she had hid in her sock. The very pen that they made her sign the paper that was going to save her. Oh yes we remember the man in the colorful shirt telling us that it would help us. That the problems that had been locked inside would go away. Ha! He deserved the pen!

He brought it on himself! We should have helped the girl. It would have been fun. Yet we ignored her futile screams as she was drug away by the gaurds. Back to A.R.P. she went, where they would tie her down to the board. Now she would scream and fight until she was out of breath. We are glad the we did not break at that point for the story of the board was wide spread. The sockets spread this talk rather quickly. This is only because they are thin and sound waves are tossed back and forth with only a simplistic wisper. Damn the sockets, for they are the true things that spread the fear from room to room.

Day 453