[The date is scribbled out several times and rewritten, with no conclusion.]

He’s watching me write and doesn’t seem to have a problem with it so I should tell you what’s happened since the last time we talked.

Miss Diary… we are in a very weird place. I assume you remember going through the… tunnel? Whatever that was. I think the tripod just wanted to get rid of me and sent me somewhere. I was probably supposed to die in the process. But I didn’t.

Instead I’m here on Mars with this thing. At least I think it’s Mars? It looked like Mars when I was falling and when I can see outside it looks like the NASA rover photos. But it’s all wrong. There’s plants and animals and the sky is blue with big billowing clouds. Too cold for how it looks.

[Emily has drawn her view of the room she’s trapped in. It is a rough sketch that shows an entryway to what might be outdoors, another wide entrance hole to the right, and some kind of structure in the corner.]

Doctor Moreau found me. That’s what I’m calling him.

[Emily has drawn the alien she calls Dr. Moreau. His left eye and left flipper are larger than his right, and two of his right tentacles are oversized.]

He’s the size of a car and his face is lopsided. He? I don’t know if Martians have sex. Sexes I mean. I don’t WANT to know if they HAVE sex.

His face doesn’t change expression so it’s hard to know what he’s thinking. I don’t think he wants to hurt me though. Yet anyway. I woke up with one of my arms tied down to a spot on the floor so I don’t think he trusts me either. But he put my bag near me and he hasn’t tried to hurt me. He did take my phone, but that was barely charged anyway. He seems to be really attached to it. It’s been in a little pouch on his back (??) every time I’ve seen him since. Not sure why that is. But he left me you, Miss Diary. And all the other crap in my bag.

It’s so LOUD here. Loud might not be the right word. The air feels busy and it kind of gives me a headache.

I’m starting to get hungry and I’ve BEEN thirsty. So I hope he brings me something soon.


[The date is scribbled out several more times. Emily eventually settles on “Day Two.”]

Dr. Moreau walks around outside on a thing like a dish with three flexible legs but inside he drags himself around by his tentacles and

[There are two lines of text scribbled out.]

God the eraser on this pencil sucks. He pushes himself along with his flippers. One of them is longer than the other so he has to steady himself with the tentacles and with his… tail? Whatever you call the teardrop end of a Martian.

The one I saw on Earth was so sluggish but even Moreau who seems all lopsided and injured can move freely here. I think the gravity is less which makes sense if this is somehow Mars.

Today he brought me a metal dish with some “food” on it. It was something he must have found outside. A big jelly thing with some plant bits still attached. He set it down with his tentacles by me and I pushed it away. He pushed it back toward me and then he did… something. It didn’t make a lot of sense but I had a sudden really strong thought in my head and I felt like it was his thought and not mine. Since I can’t describe the feeling right I’ll just stick one of these dumb planner stickers my dad got me when I started college that have been collecting dust in the bottom of my bag since then.

[There’s a gaudy planner sticker that says “Lunch Date” in the notebook.]

Why not? But I think he was trying to tell me the food was okay. He was saying something about my body and about how it wasn’t going to be hurt by anything but... specifically anything in front of me. If that makes any sense. I wonder if that was supposed to include him.

I took a bite. It wasn’t good but it hasn’t hurt me yet. Kind of like lettuce that’s starting to go bad. It was soggy and didn’t taste like much. He thought “at” me again and this time it was more like

[There’s a gaudy planner sticker that says “YAAAAAAAS.” That’s “Yas” with seven A’s.]

I think he was happy about it. But then I saw something behind him that immediately freaked me out.

Behind him was this other tripod machine, like a much smaller version of the ones that had been on Earth. Its legs were short like the ones on Moreau’s platform but it was fully enclosed with those same big eyes the Earth tanks had. It looked more unprofessionally made. Less mass produced than the ones that attacked us. What bothered me was that it had a needle the size of my arm in one of its artificial tentacles and was poking the needle into the side of this big machine in the corner.

The machine had been there since I woke up yesterday (?) but it had been empty before. This time I could see that it was a giant tank for storing liquids, and what the tripod was siphoning out with its needle was a dark red substance.

All I could think about was the reports back on Earth of Martians stealing human blood and injecting it into their own veins. I realized all at once why Moreau hadn’t killed me yet and why he wanted me to eat and stay healthy. I started kicking and screeching at him and he drew back with that same stupid smile on his face. Except it wasn’t a smile. So close up I could see the Martian “smile” was always an illusion. It was just a couple of skin flaps on his face. His real mouth was a bit higher up and it was turned down in a cold sneer.

One of my kicks landed before he backed up all the way. I could see a bruise start to form on his weird wet skin. I’m pretty sure I just kept swearing at him but that memory is caught up in another one because he tried to tell me something else in my head:

[There is a smiley face and XD face sticker next to each other.]

Something about a split down the middle or a separation… and a sideways ear? I don’t understand what any of this means.

I’m not going to let them have my blood.