Third and last piece of text tacked to the 'I am a Good Person' document. I found the room. It was hidden behind a plaster-covered door. The hall outside is covered in dust and plaster shards. I had my boyfriend kick the door in. We found her inside. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it. I could never have pinned my mother down as a killer... I can't give this information to the police just yet. It would fully absolve me, I know, but I must continue reading. I must continue documenting. I can't let these secrets of my mother slip away, so easily, after I had lost her for so long. I have found Beatrice, but the true purpose and links to the remainder of the record will need to be fully seen. For now, here is that final attached text:
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The Way of the World
Characters:
Beatrice, lady, 20s
Ann, lady, 40s
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Scene 1
Dusty room. Beatrice, ugly complexion, strapped to a bed. Ann enters with a case.
Ann:
Bea, darling, I'm home at last! I'm sure you must have missed me?
Bea:
Like the world! Yes, I did. How was the outdoor world my love?
Ann (removing her mitts):
Like Hell in a handbasket! My wonder how some can spend their whole lives out in it.
Bea:
That used to be the life for me, until I came here...and the skies, how were they?
Ann (distracted):
Hm? O - them, well, yes. I suppose they were blue and filled, partly at least, with birds.
Bea:
O Ann! Do tell me which types, you know I'm mad for that sort of thing!
Ann:
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Because that would be just you wouldn't it, B? That should be the way which you speak to me but it isn't. I come here everyday and request the sound of these nice things, these wonderful sounds from your wonderful throat but I am given nothing. Jeremy is dead. Or was he Jimmy? They all blend together, all these names, these forgotten details in a long string of life. I wish I could crawl beneath you and have the same sensation from your soft buttery skin, the same resonance as your slender feminine throat, instead of having whatever I have, whatever this monster form has leached me onto. I have no choice in the matter any longer, this is the way of the world.
I have lived a long time and now I truly understand it all. I now know the way of the world. I found the postman at my door yesterday and he produced a package for me which I'd ordered for you. Now it's on the desk beside us. Jerald is gone. He's lying in the garden, beneath the sprouts, around them, the leaves partially covering his face. He is at peace. He took his death well. He lay down easily. He accepted the garden soil. He breathes worms now.
You haven't lived as long as I. I wished to take you on as my allone. But you will not be that. There is nothing else. There's nothing to be done now, B. It's all alas and done. There's nothing more to say, there's nothing more to do. I will take this package here and end our times together. It's plaster. It's supplies. I will seal you in like a great Pharaoh. I will put gold on your eyes. I will be waiting for you in the next life. You will be more gracious then.
You've begun to kick a fuss up, B. I will need to have a firm word with you. This is almost the end. We will arrive at the last Testament soon enough. We will arrive at the place where the needle hits the record. Until then, Beatrice, it's just you and me. Did you really think you could reason with me? It's the way.
ns216.73.217.39da2
and then Add to home screen.