The Diary of Robin LaMaut

[This journal is written in a cheap notebook with black and white cardboard covers, the lined paper is thin, slippery, and generally unpleasant. Written in a box on the cover in bold, neat, and discouraging letters is, "PLEASE DO NOT READ." The writing inside the notebook is written in similar neatness, in black ink. The journal can be found under the couch cushions in the rec building on the Berg.]

If you're reading this, let me just thank you for listening to my instuctions on the cover.

I figure I should start keeping a journal, even if it's filled with "Today I sat outside in the snow" days.

I also figure I should have my "me" stuff written somewhere since I'm probably going to die on this ice cube. Or go back to Aldebaran, and I think I would rather do the first thing than go back there.

So hi. I'm Bunny. Or really my name's Robin LaMaut, my friends called me Bunny or Rabbit. I'm also prisoner EV-03286. I was born to Jack and Ivy LaMaut on April 8th, 2392. I'm a Martian. I'm from New Boston on Mars, I lived a 56 Baker Street with my parents until I was 16.

My dad's a coke head and my mom's a fragile woman who did her best to make sure I didn't end up where I am now. I committed my first crime at age 8 when I stole a pack of batteries from a corner store because my dad told me we needed them. I tried drugs for the first time at age 10 and dropped out of highschool due to having a heroin addiction. I was 16 when I was arrested for the first time, I was trying to steal a car. I spent the time Earth was being destroyed in a holding cell.

I left Mars when I turned 20, after barely scraping by for years by doing odd jobs for local crime lords. I moved to the Core sectors and secured a job as a secretary for a company called ExtraBiz, they sold electronics and stuff like that.

I ended up stealing a LOT of money through changing the books. And.. I got caught. And when that happened, I did the dumbest thing I've done in my entire life. I called some old cronies from Mars and organized the worst planned robbery of all time.

Long story short, we robbed a bank as my "last hurrah" expecting me to be the only one caught. Long story short, I was the only one who got out.

Half panicked I kicked a guy off his own ship as he was getting on, fumbled my way out, and fled. I left my friends behind, and, I hoped, my reputation.

Over the next year I tried to right the wrongs I'd done. I gave back as much as I could, I swore off drinking and drugs, anything remotely mean. I wanted to start over out here. And... God did I try.

I met a few people out here, I found someone I really like, made a couple friends, did stupid legal things, got a job. Things were going fine.

And then my bounty showed up. 20K pix, alive. I ran again, and after a few months I got caught. I was processed and shipped out to Aldebaran Three Penal Colony. It's your standard Rim prison hellhole. It's overcrowded, underfunded, undermanned, and everyone for themselves.

I guess word of what I did to get life made its way around, because within a week of being in that anarchy filled chaos bunker I was beaten to a pulp every single day of the four months I was there. Not as tough as my crimes make me sound. Life on Aldebaran was and is hell. I'm not going to elaborate on the subject, I have enough scars and memories I don't want to have or remember.

And we're up to speed, mostly. I got to "the Berg" after I was being transferred to God knows where from Aldebaran. The transport ship I was on crashed, I managed to survive but I was still locked in my cell. After two days people show up and start asking me a bunch of questions, "What happened here? Why are you in here? Why did the ship crash?" Really really stupidly obvious questions and things I couldn't answer. I think one guy actually thought I crashed the ship from my holding cell.

Anyway, I met a couple people who actually seemed nice, I got some food and water from one avian... Who I still need to find. But in the end I got dragged off by a bunch of guys claiming to be the local law enforcement. Like sectors like this have law enforcement, sure, and I'm the queen of Egypt.

And that's when this guy, Gillian, dumps me here after a long night of arguing what to do with Bunny the degenerate. It's been slow going. I don't have a change of clothes, so I've been wearing the same stuff for about a week. I'm scraping by food wise, but I have water and a shower in the place I'm staying, some community rec building.

I've met a few people who want to help me, but they want me to go face the guy who left me here and try to convince him to let me stay somewhere where the temperature rises above negative six gabillion. I'm pretty sure if I do that, I'm getting lead between the eyes. My gut says it, and my gut is rarely wrong.

I'm only going to write in here when something interesting happens, because days of "I went outside and got frostbite" will be boring. I'm going to try to find work, make friends, and get out of here.

That's a good plan, I think.

P.S. If you're still reading this, screw off. Learn to not read a girl's diary.

 

9/28/16

Okay, so it occurred to me that I forgot to put a date in the corner up there before, so now I fixed that here. I'm writing because I got a step further, I think. Sort of. I mean, I found a familiar face, at least. And I got a change of clothes, even if they make me look like a nut case. The point is, I can finally wash what I've been wearing at least a little bit in the shower here. Finding a place to put the stuff is another issue entirely, I think people will notice if I stuff a bunch of clothing under the cushions of the couch.

So yeah, I met a guy from Ragnarok, the plumber... all around manual labor guy. I guess. It's good to see there's still people I know around... That gives me a bit of hope. And so that's about it, short entry today. Not much happens on an ice berg.

Checklist: Change of clothes (check!), food, phone, somewhere else to go.