The journal only had twelve entries in it, even though it had the capacity for each trial she went through in the two and a half she had gotten it. It was designed for a young girl. The pages and cover were bright and soft hot pinks with a tiny, heart-shaped key lock to keep her fears and desires secure.

          Eloise loved it, even though she felt a little old for it. It gave its own mean of affection as a gift from the gang leader's sister. She had seen the very journal in stores before, seen that it had two keys and that both were in her own hands. The color pink, any and every shade from baby soft to neon reminded her of the gang leader's sister. It had from there on, mostly because of her eyes.

          The gang leader's sister, whatever her name was, was a lot like a rat, as Eloise saw it. The girl's skin grew pale as it lost its healthy pink over time. Her lips had slowly whitened like her sharpening teeth. Her gums and eyes had reddened too, becoming pink as her body became thinner. She went from walking like the slender, confident young lady she once was to a scurrying, rat like cannibal. Her eyes slowly turned red, but her soul did not fade from them until the end, the last part of her, and all Eloise had left of her.

          It hurt her to watch a sweet girl hollow out, the journal meant for a young girl seemed to stand as a cruel reminder of the former human dying inside and fading into nothing. Eloise often wondered if the gift of the journal was a sign of some sort, from back when the girl was still coherent enough to communicate to others. The diary was made a few years prior, yet it seemed unused. Eloise found it strange. A few pen and pencil marks dotted the first page, cornered on the left end of the line below the pink cursive "this diary belongs to". Eloise had wondered if it was once supposed to be hers. The dots and solemn glances the other members gave when they would look at it made her come to the conclusion. No one told her and she never asked. She never even asked if the girl's nickname "Asha" was part of her name.

          She couldn't tell if anyone had the answers as it was, or if they'd give her the truth. The girl's brother surely did, but they all knew their relationship was to never be discussed. It wasn't until she had to be taken down that the solemn glances from the members and angry and pained stares from her brother truly got to her, the first promise she had made to the girl upon receiving the gift and the first to break after her euthanization.

          Eloise didn't stop writing because the journal was stolen or destroyed or prohibited to, but because she couldn't bring herself to do, at least not in the very one the girl nicknamed Asha gave. She let her use in it die with the girl.

          She couldn't document her death either or what she remembered from it. She couldn't feel the journal she was crushing in her arms as she watched. She was too captivated by watching the girl's final seconds as a raging cannibal. It was in her honor and in heartbreak and horror. The girl, the first true friend she had made since her conversion and the first fully-mutated cannibal she had ever seen.

          The memories haunted her. The journal became a sort of possessed object to her, a constant reminder of what she once was, whoever she was, if only she could remember.

          She could remember the way she crouched down and balanced on her toes after she handed her the journal. She could remember the feeling of the two tiny keys in her hand as she watched the girl brush her overgrown bangs back and her ponytail fall over the side like a rat's tail. Her eyes held the confidence and acceptance of an open-minded street rat, accepting the difficult places of itself and of its kind, allowing the young to take a share of food until it found its own will to fight like she had. There wasn't much concern in forgetting her name. There was enough relief that someone didn't need to know, and wanted to know what she was still able to share. It was as though she was given permission to fall and die by making a friend of Eloise and that she had a chance to be remembered and live on in ways she no longer could through the journal she never used.