JULY 11: Mythology

Today is Object Blue and Subject A's last day of camp, and hopefully their last day of contact whatsoever. However, this last day is a time of tribulation for me as I do not know what the vile Subject A is planning through this "closing performance." I have decided to follow them once more. I now sit in the same place the mysterious girl with the laptop sat before. The stench of port-a-potty and suspicion hang heavy in the air.

Speaking of the girl with the laptop, I have noticed a strange and nearly alarming trend. Everywhere now, I seem to see people writing, typing, watching. That is frightening in itself, but what is worse is how fixated they seem on Subject A and Object Blue. It's like some sort of descending plague of locusts, mainly made up of teenage girls. There are others – some older, some younger, some even male. But always, always, the teenage girls…

Some of them are actually pretty hot.

But this is no time to be distracted. Preparations continue; the children run wild.

I now sit, carefully disguised, among the audience. I must slouch to hide the obvious height difference between the children and myself, but my keen sense of camouflage helps me to stay undercover. I am convinced that only the young girl with the pigtails from earlier knows that I am out of place, and she dares not reveal me for fear of the Kermit.

The show drags on. It appears to have some sort of ancient Greek theme to it, with gods and goddesses clashing in all of their half-nude might. I recognize snatches of old stories, but nothing that I can pinpoint for certain. It has been some time since I have heard these tales. Subject A and Object Blue have yet to perform – I shall write more once they have done so.

This is…this is impossible to start with a sentence with enough force behind it, that's what it is. This is vile, this is awful, evil, inconceivable, and every other negative word I've already used in this log. It's just plain icky.

I write to you now as I sit in my headquarters, completely blown away by the horror that I witnessed today. Subject A and Object Blue performed their ancient story, revealing to the world their choice: a romance. Granted, it had a terrible ending – fitting for a terrible relationship – but it still had a bittersweet tang to it that made it just gooey without having to be literally so. They portrayed a tale of two mortals who became constellations in the sky, separated from each other except for one day a year, when they would meet each other by crossing over the Milky Way river. Subject A was a terrible actor, as to be expected. I have enclosed an illustration of him falling off the stage and cracking his skull open. Alas, only wishful thinking.

Object Blue later informed me that they were not given a choice as to what to perform – they drew from a hat to make things interesting. She even went so far as to say that Subject A was appalled by the subject. Ha. This incident is far too convenient for that to be the truth. Why were they working together in the first place? It was most definitely all part of his evil scheme. Besides, Object Blue refused to tell me whether or not she had been enjoying herself.

They held each others' gaze – and each others' bodies – far too long for my taste. This is a children's camp, not late night porno!

(P.S. – I did not have trouble walking after last night. It doesn't hurt that bad when I move slowly. And I've found an even better hiding place that Object Blue will never discover, so this line is…completely pointless. Huh.)

Whatever you say. You know, I could go on about how all we "held" were each others' shoulders. But I won't. Oh, and you left your Sherlock Holmes hat in the kitchen again.