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Fool's Paradise

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New Entry on new meds!

1 December 2004

Well. That certainly was interesting, wasn’t it?

With the help of the lovely Doctor Powers and some hypnosis, coupled with a completely new prescription, I rid myself of those last horrific nightmares and with them, the bad influence of that poor, deluded Miss Summers. I wish I could be angrier with her, but I am merely saddened.

At the end of my tether, in my worst depths of despair, she came to me dressed in the white cloak of a doctor. Clearly she had snuck into the facility in this disguise. She appeared to have been crying. And what she said was so strange, that I wonder at it still:

“Spike. We don’t have much time and they won’t let me see you anymore, so I gotta make this fast and you’ve gotta try to believe me. You’re Spike. You’ve never been anyone else to me! I know what your nightmares are, they’re memories. But Spike, that’s not all that you were. You’re also this man, this William, a man who would cross an ocean and nearly kill himself to earn his soul! This is the man that I love! The man I believe in. Please, Spike. It’s taken me so long to get here.

“Spike. Please say something. Come with me. Let me help you escape. I've been able to get some ID for you! We can get away. You can have a real life. With me.”

“That life,” I vaguely remember telling her. “Is a lie.” Then I began to scream at the top of my lungs for the assistance of Doctor Powers, for it was she who had discovered how the sedatives caused those horrible night terrors, and I am forever indebted to her aid. Come to me she did, and spirited Miss Summers away.

On her person, Doctor said, they found my driver’s licence, green card, and passport, all looking remarkably new and in perfect order. Almost…too new, now that I look at the license, even though it is three years old, it bears no creases from my wallet…

Ah, no matter. It is a relief to have them again. A man with a country, an allegiance, a career, and a name – and my flat! How good to see it again, to write here at my sunny breakfast nook! Though the sun…it is so very strong. Has it always been this strong? It must have been the days in hospital. Still. At the sight of dawn, I…wince. Perhaps it is a reaction from this new medication?

Thanks to the hard work of the esteemed Eve Powers, I have perfect recall for the life I led before. Nothing as exciting as espionage, but I will take the normal life of a bank clerk any day. No one knows why my memories recalled the life of 1880 with such clarity but it seems the robbery I suffered on that fateful May evening forced my mind into some deep-seated denial brought on by the death of my treasured mother Anne, some months before. I’d never quite dealt with it properly, you see. I suppose this was simply my mind’s way of healing itself. I am most certainly William Langley of London, born and raised, Oxford-bred, and residing in California to take on the duties of global banking. Who also writes the odd phrase of bloody awful poetry on occasion!

I do hope that Miss Summers finds a manner of healing herself. She seemed so desperate to attach herself to any remnant of that “Spike,” a man who most certainly is dead by now, that she nearly convinced me I was he. And while I would certainly enjoy doing the random act of good will, I am neither monster nor champion. I am merely a man.

In the few days I came into contact with Miss Summers, I felt a most powerful connection. Yet dear Evie is right, that a young woman so struck by her grief merely awakened that of my own, and with it my most basic needs to rescue and protect. I do believe the sweet doctor is jealous and may have a crush – one I will gladly return in kind.

Thus I have no further needs for this journal, dear diary, and will sign my name and employment with great certainty…

Yrs,
William James Langley
Global Mergers and Acquisitions Officer
Wolfram & Hart Bank and Trust
Los Angeles, CA