Memorabilia of a soul in purgatory

These are recordings made on a cheap voice recorder, the type of recorder that uses the micro-cassettes, which were all the rage back in the early 90s. The voice in the recorder is Trauma, as she speaks to herself while alone at her apartment.

A clicking noise is heard in the recording, followed by a slight distortion as the micro cassette began to unwind, "Hello? Testing. Did I hit the right button this time?" the recording cuts off, then picks up again.
"Well I feel stupid. Here I am, alone, talking into a machine larger than my hand. I don't even know why that man was carrying this old piece of junk. The pawnshop wouldn't even take it. Since I'm stuck with it, I may as well put it to use. I haven't had a diary in my entire life, probably because of the whole 'being blind' thing. Alright, let's start with introductions. I am Trauma, simply Trauma, a 22 year old loser who is very familiar with Murphy's Law. I guess I could go on about how my past is a jumbled mess, and how I have always managed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong people... but this isn't a sob story. I do not seek the pity of others. I despise when people pity me.

"The thing about me is... well, all my life I've tried to fit in to something. Heck, in my teenage years I used to run with some really stupid people just for the sake of feeling I belonged. Looking back I should have shot them all in the head, but at the time, it was amazing for me. I knew they were retarded, and I played myself stupid just to 'fit in', but what's the point of acting a part if it's not really you? Then again, that leaves me with the question: who am I? I know my name, I know my age, I know my past... but I have no definition of who I am. Perhaps it's the fact I've never seen myself. I have no concept of how I look other than what people tell me... or perhaps it's the fact that, up until recently, I've been a dumb bitch trying to fit in with a group of morons. I think I lost myself at some point... and it's left me with a rather hollow feeling inside. I don't know who I am, so I have no reason to preserve myself. Don't get me wrong, I'm not suicidal or anything, but I don't feel like I should care for my physical well-being. Is that wrong? It doesn't feel wrong. In fact, this is the best I've felt in years!"
A noise is heard in the background, like a light thump. There is another click on the recording and it goes blank.
[end of log/to be continued]

[Second recording]
"The world went to sleep. I swear it did, I can't hear anything past my walls all of a sudden. That's... impossible. My hearing is beyond that of a seeing person!

"Anyway, I've been working for this gang named Blood Roses or something of the sort. A bunch of golden-crib babies with daddy issues... but the pay is good, so I'm not complaining. One of my contacts even had the nerve to invite me to a rave they were holding in Waterfront. I laughed. Me at a rave? That'll be the day! I treasure my hearing too much to subject it to obnoxiously loud music. Good music, mind you, but still way too loud. I lose my hearing I lose it all.

"I remembered Eliza today for some reason. I think I may have passed her by one of the stores. Eliza... I feel bad for what I did to her. But it was for the best. She was way too weak for what I knew my life would become. Eliza has had it all. All that I haven't. A loving supportive family, a comfortable living, a real job. She is a kind, caring soul that witnessed something she shouldn't have. Mike was the man I killed that day. Mike... the head of a very prominent gang back where I come from. He was a charmer, and I liked to tease him, but when I say no I MEAN no. And if someone tries to take advantage of my blindness I go feral. I stabbed him... probably about seventy times. I felt his blood all over me. He wasn't breathing. Eliza walked in just then. She took me to her home and I showered, then we were off.

"Had I stayed things would have gone worst. I would have faced my destiny, but Eliza wasn't going to allow it. Silly Eliza. I know she stayed here in San Paro. I know she most likely stalks me every now and then. I swear I smell her perfume whenever I walk past a mall. From day one she stuck to me like a slug... a very pleasant slug. I may have even developed some feelings for her at some point, if I had a heart...." there was a long pause in the recording, then the sound of a lighter and a heavy sigh as she blew out smoke from a cigarette, "But that's impossible. I am a monster. I've detached so easily from everything that has ever dared love me."

There was another long pause. After about a minute of silence she added, "I need to kill something."
[end of log/to be continued]