It’s been a whole week since I last posted. I don’t really know why I didn’t post. There didn’t seem to be time. When there was time, I couldn’t think of anything much to say.

Two “new” parts surfaced this week—new to me, anyway. I am getting used to the idea that I have been pretty much the last part of myself to know anything.

I spent the week getting to know them.

One of them seems to be almost exclusively organized around sleeping. He makes sure we don’t sleep unless it’s safe to sleep. It is safe to sleep when Nata tells us we can sleep. Otherwise, it is not safe and we will die.

So that’s made for an interesting week, full of what seem to be flashbacks of unbearable sleepiness and of present-day terror of sleeping.

He doesn’t trust anyone else. Only Nata. And he’s not very caught up with the present. He didn’t know she was dead. Now he knows she’s dead, and every second is full of terror for him, because she isn’t there to tell him what to do.

He didn’t know the reason she won’t let him sleep is that hypothermia makes you sleepy and losing consciousness increases the risk of death. He doesn’t know the trauma he’s remembering is the freezer. He just remembers the importance of obedience, only now there is no one to obey.

He’s a hard part to work with because he doesn’t think to comfort himself. His first instinct is always stoicism, and he doesn’t trust me either. He’s barely aware of my existence. Staying “warm” is hard.

Mishka means mouse. That’s Nata’s endearment.

Spati, Mishka.

Sleep, little mouse.