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December 8, 1999.Last night our game self-destructed. I'm not happy, none of us are. But. Mattie is dead. I suppose that's a pretty meaningless statement, all things considered. She was my Atlantic City character in our vampire game. If she ever existed, it was as one already dead. But still, it hurts me to know that we'll never talk again. "I liked my character." I don't have any perspective on Mattie. She's way way too close to me - tactless & cerebral, totally helpless when push comes to shove (at least most of the time). But she knew that the box with the yellow triangles stenciled on the side couldn't possibly be a nuke. It wasn't heavy enough. Her exuberance - and mine - was slapped down constantly. When I wanted to act, I was told to be quiet. When I acted anyway, I incurred official displeasure & public censure. And before she came to Atlantic City, she'd spent half her life locked in a room. She never told me if Mattie was her real name. She never told me how old she was, although she must have known her birth year. She never told me what it was like talking to her sire & captor the first day, the second week, the tenth year he kept her in the tower. I hope she's gone someplace fun. I hope she's realized that she can't trust her elders the way she'd been taught. I hope she learns how to fight. I miss her. It hurts. Goodbye.
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