Elli's Diary: October 14, 1992
After that strange event, Dollores simply can no longer communicate or even make a sound. She is recovering slowly, but with this lack of communication, it's difficult, not just for me, of course.
Earlier today, some police officers came here wanting to know if Dollores saw anything that could give at least some clue; however, she remained silent, probably because of the trauma. The shock must have been too much for her. But I noticed something: the way she looked at me. She seemed to want to speak, but couldn't. She even dared to open her mouth, but nothing came out, except tired sighs.
I was thinking a lot about how I could get her to communicate and I remembered that she had a diary. I decided to go back home and search the rooms.
While searching her room, I found her diary in the drawer. There was the diary; I started flipping through the pages to check if there were any clean sheets I could use, and while flipping through them, I found something rather curious.
I found that piece of paper curious, so I put it in my pocket. The paper was on top of another entry in the diary itself.
“Dave was distracted again; he was walking like a zombie. This is really worrying me. I called him into the hallway and asked him; he wasn’t making any sense, he seemed completely stoned and tired. When I asked him if he was using anything else besides cigarettes, he kept saying he wasn’t using anything. I couldn’t hold back and yelled at him. Wow, everyone was looking at us, but what bothered me was the way he looked at me; he looked angry. Before I could even compose myself, he put on that stupid rabbit head and turned his back on me…”
“We were walking home after our shift ended, and he just started speeding up and kept walking ahead. I was so downcast that I just let him go, but while he was rummaging in his pocket to get something, he dropped this strange piece of paper. I’ve never seen anything like it.”(July 11, 1992)
Right after that, I decided to just close the diary. I never thought those two were going through this. My sister and I have shared the house with Dave since we moved here; it was like we were family. We always relied on each other. I couldn't wrap my head around the idea that he was going through something like drugs or some kind of stress, plus, because of work, I barely had time for them.
For now, I decided to just leave and go back to the hospital. As the oldest of the three, I had a copy of the key to all the rooms, so I intended to search Dave's room next.
When I returned to the hospital, I handed her the diary with a pen and asked her to write down what she had seen before being attacked. Scribbling lightly, she drew a stick figure with two rabbit ears. I'd never been to the disco, but I wasn't stupid enough not to understand that Dave, the rabbit, was the only one acting as the mascot for the pizzeria affiliated with the disco.
I asked her why, but she just shook her head in denial; she really didn't know what was going on. That's when I remembered the paper, took it out of my pocket, and asked what it was. She reacted in the worst way: she simply freaked out and started screaming, which caused the nurses to take me out of the room. Not knowing what to do, I decided to just go home and relax a bit.
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