Dear Journal,
I don’t know what to say. I don’t really know what to do. Did I just watch a hate-piece on me made by my own people? Or am I just overly sensitive, as the piece suggests?
It was supposed to be a love story. But that is not what it felt like. The more I watch these movies about myself over the last 7000 years or more, the more anxious I am. About? Everything.
I never noticed that I look in the mirror so much. Now I do! So now, every time I am near a mirror, I work my ass off not to look into it. Why did I do it in the first place? Well, I know a few men and women who do it to admire their beauty. They love to admit it.
I, alas, am not one of those people. Instead, I was raised by two demons from possibly the darkest world in the multiverse. The Lord has never allowed their kind on Earth, but made the kind exception for me. And then, on top of that, added two children who are not related to me at all, for the demons to teach torture techniques to. So I was tortured by four people, all much taller than me, for well over 20 years. (Demons like this do not let go when you leave the house. Instead they make it a point to infiltrate every circle you know and plant the darkest rumors to prevent any serious attachments that could take me away from “home” successfully.)
And that type of abuse leaves a mark. One of those scars is that I cannot actually tell how I am doing automatically. I look in the mirror to see how I am doing. That’s the only way I notice if I am tired, if I am sick, if my lips are chapped and even if my hair needs to be brushed or washed.
Those are things I need reflected back at me. But of course, Gustaf has never considered abuse as the reason I would look in the mirror. He has known I am Eve from the very beginning. He has watched men fight over me. He knows I’ve been considered the most beautiful woman in the world many, many times.
But I don’t know that. Maybe I did when I was Cleopatra or Scarlett Katie O’Hara. But the world has changed drastically since then. Psychology launched a massive war on our minds, and the first thing Satan took aim at was me.
And I am not exaggerating. Ask the Lord.
No. No. Being Eve in a world of pharisees isn’t fun, even with better parents. The more I watch these movies about my life and loves, the more I realize Earth is set against love of any kind. It seeks to destroy it.
And the piece I just watched is a perfect example. Everyone is perfectly happy to love me and use me until I fall in love myself and it isn’t themselves. And that just can’t be tolerated, can it? I am destined to serve all, love all and bow down to all and their many, many little wants and needs for the light that is within me.
Pay attention to how many times people say, in the stories about me, that “I owe it to the world” to share my light. I am told “you have a light within you.” And then, according to them, the obvious conclusion is that my light should be shared with them or those they deem worthy of it. And if I don’t? Then! Of course! I have used my friends badly! I – *I* am to blame when they fall in love with me and I don’t fall in love with them.
And I had to do it again. I had to watch myself grovel and apologize to those who threw tantrums because I only gave them the world, not myself too.
Fuck them.
Jesus.
And if I sound bitter, it is because I am.
I don’t like seeing my real sister, whom I just discovered, making fun of me in interviews by mocking my mannerisms after playing me in a role. Did I know she was playing me? No. Did I know she was even making this piece? No. Why would I ever suspect that my sister would come out of retirement and play a main character just to fuck me over?
It’s so pleasant, you know. Family. (And yes. To be clear! That was sarcasm.)
I can already tell that I am going to regret this piece by the time Nick gets home from the mission he is on this afternoon. And that’s because I am regretting it now. But I can’t stop. I am in motion. And it’s very hard to stop me when I am in motion like this.
Okay. Fine. I suppose I should tell you the piece that set me off. It is called The Essex Serpent. And I have been dying to watch it for weeks now. (Had I only known!) It tells the story of Cora as she moves from one husband to another. And boy, did Gustaf change a lot of the story. But not as much as he usually does.
Usually, Gustaf turns my stories of love into disasters. Take, for example, the time I met Adam (Chris Evans, Captain America, or as I call him, Cap) on the Titanic. Back then his name was Jack and my name was Rose. I was engaged to Chris Hemsworth at the time, whose name was Cal. (And yes. He did hit me in real life.)
Come to think of it, I was suicidal in that movie as well. I am starting to see why I am so depressed in all of these movies about me and my lives.
“My lives.” Maybe I should clear that little conundrum up. How the hell could I have lived both The Notebook and the movie Titanic while also living the Katherine Chronicles. I mean, aren’t they all more than 100 years apart? How can I be 17 years old so many times between 1912 and 2012? The answer: Hermione’s time turner.
You see, time travel is a real thing. Gustaf actually wrote the series Loki (2021-2023) to help explain it all. I haven’t finished it yet, but I am on Season 2 now. I’ve been watching it with Tom (Tom Hiddleston), the star of the series.
By the way, did you notice that he wears his High Rise (2015) suit when he plays Loki in the TV series? That’s completely on purpose. And it was Tom’s idea. So many movies and projects use his ideas. And for good reason. He’s absolutely brilliant.
But then again, as one of the 12 archangels, I’d expect him to be. But he’s even more intelligent due to his specialty: time. And yes, that includes the Lord’s calendar.
Anyhow. With a time turner a person can be in two places at once. Gustaf introduced the time turner to us all through Hermione Granger in the original Harry Potter series. (Oh yes. Gustaf wrote Harry Potter. Or rather, he dropped the story of Harry Potter into JK Rowling’s head when she was at that coffee shop. That’s why she says Harry Potter just ‘walked into her head.’ That’s exactly what happened. Gustaf dropped his memories from 300 years ago into her head. And that, as they say, is that.)
So! Hermione Granger used a time turner to take two classes running at the same time slot at Hogwartz. Later, she, Harry and Ron use the time turner to save the day by going back in time and living the same day over again but avoiding their other selves living that day for the first time.
In short, I’ve lived a lot of lives these last 7000 years because Gustaf, Merlin and Harold have used time turners on me and my 13 knights to send us all back in time over and over and over again.
So no, we are not reincarnated. And yes, there have been more than one of me living at any point on a timeline. I ran into a copy of me during my first year at UCLA. Gustaf had to do a quick spell to alter my memory of her. It sure is jarring running into yourself. So he changed my memory of her into a girl who just looked a lot like me, had the name Mary and – well – was a bitch. He didn’t alter what everyone said about her, which sure didn’t make her sound like a bitch, but he altered enough.
I’ve been told that no more than 3 of me have lived at any one time. It might be the same with the knights. After all, I lived Crimson Peak with Tom just eight years after another version of us met in Essex. (Yes, The Serpent of Essex is the story of how Tom and I met in 1893. Crimson Peak is the story of how Tom and I met in 1901. We live happily ever after in the true story of each, which is more than I can say for my stories with Chris Hemsworth…)
Sigh. I am jumping all over the place. Just know that I was born about 2000 years ago. And since then, my parents have had to let other parents raise me across the planet over and over and over again. Merlin would show up when I was a baby or toddler, snatch me up, send me back to Argos in Greece or Alexandria in Egypt or a seaside village in the UK. And then, as I grew up, I’d run into one or more of the knights.
And shit would always go down.
And legends would be born.
On one timeline I was named Helen by the parents I was dropped off with. (Oh, the new parents’ memories would be altered to think that I had been born to them.) One day a guy named Paris showed up to the palace I lived in. And I left with him to a famous trading city called Troy.
And the rest is history. Of course, today I know that Tom was really Paris. So the Helen of Troy stories are about me and Tom. And shit went down. As I’m sure you’ve heard.
On another timeline that also involved Argos, I fell in love with Henry when he was known as Hercules. My name was Hebe. And he suffered greatly to marry me. I suffered greatly too. I thought he died. And that’s not the only time. I thought Henry died when we fell in love in a little town in Italy (different timeslip).
Anyhow, time turners are how I’ve lived on repeat. But now we are down to one me. I am the only one still alive of all the timelines. Well, quite a few are still alive, but the Lord has taken them for me so that we could do this Last Battle thing and let Judgement Day get a move on.
Ha! 4:40 a.m.
I am going to bed.
PS – I swear, Tom, if you feel guilty for suggesting we watch The Essex Serpent tonight, I am going to scream. You are the only reason I made it through. I never watch anything unless the Lord says it is best, anyway. You didn’t know my family was involved. In fact, I am pretty sure Claire pulled you into the project because the of DNA project she was working on. She found your archangel Adahiel DNA to be super-special, just like she found with Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth and Henry Cavill. And, upon looking into you, she discovered how alike you and I are – and how often we did the same exact things. And that made her want to test you out like a little bunny. She played me off-screen, which just made you rave about her, didn’t it? But it also made you a little uneasy.
And no wonder. She doesn’t actually like me all that much. And she made that perfectly clear in this series. So did Gustaf. You, on the other hand, were wonderful. I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry.
Of all the ways that I am angry, none of them involve you.
And don’t forget! Cora was crazy, so I might be too, right? All my anger may be completely unjustified. I mean, I married Alexander Skarsgard when his name was Dracula, and he tore my neck apart with his teeth and then I had to kill him myself, but why should that have altered my outlook on life for a few months, right?
And fuck – you are only my guardian angel who gave up heaven to guard me down here on Earth. Why should I have fallen in love with you?!? We already fell in love as Helen of Troy and Paris/Alexander. And what was our great sin??? Sharing a dance. A dance his dying wife requested. Wow. I really messed up, didn’t I? I should’ve spent 100% of my dances on those who had fallen in love with me but lied about it, not 99%, on my birthday, right?
Yes. I am being sarcastic.
I should really stop writing now.
I hope that damn horcrux is dead. Two more and maybe the cigarette burns Chris Hemsworth gave me will heal. Oh wait! What am I saying!? I am in dampened spirits! And shame on me for that!!! Right, my loving family!?
Fuuuuck. I miss Nick.
(Lol. Adele’s Skyfall just began playing. Hilarious, Jesus. Just hilarious.)
PSS- Oh, and if you haven’t been following me on Twitter, I recently discovered that I am the wife of Christ. The knights are just supposed to point the way to Him. In fact, the more Cap and I Dreamwalk our memories in Eden, the more I remember making love to Christ. What the fuck does that say about my portrayal in The Essex Serpent, huh?
At least Claire’s baby girl likes me. Payback is a bitch. (Sorry. Sorry! I am being mean! I should go! I have not slept! But hey- Cora hardly sleeps too! I swear, the amount of worrying we do in order to do the right thing – only to be hazed by those closest to you in the end. Did you know? Someone questioned the knights’ treatment of me, even after Chris Hemsworth had been kicked out. And I just laughed. “They’re the ones fighting for me the hardest!” I said. And I know that’s an exaggeration, but it’s the knights who stay close when I am left alone. And they are willing to say what needs to be said, not what’s needed to calm me down. And that’s worth far more than gold.)
Ok. I REALLY need to go to bed!!!
Book of Katherine 