Attempt 1: Caught her while she was taking the laundry down from the clothesline. Four shots with the new revolver in the back. I saw her fall, I saw her head crack against the ground, and I ran before the gunshots drew attention. When I crept back to check, she was on her feet like nothing had happened.

In the morning, there was a note next to my pillow, along with a small pile of rat droppings. “Welcome back to Henshaw, my dear boy. Please be more considerate in the future. You let blood splatter on clothes freshly washed”. I cleaned the crap off and read my morning verses. I can’t stop, no matter what. She’ll kill again, and the Lord has made me the only one who realizes that. This is what He’s called me to do.

Attempt 2: Caught her sneaking out of the family house, tracked her to some trees to the East. Two shots in the chest. I tried to shoot her in the head after she fell, but…my stomach betrayed me when I saw her face. I have no taste for death. I went behind a bush until the bile finished leaving me. By the time I got back, she was gone.

The Lord has given me this task and I must fulfill it.

Attempt 3: She’s been going to those trees a lot. I don’t know what she’s doing there but it can’t be good. Rodge taught me how to make a rope snare; he doesn’t entirely believe me but he’s willing to help. If I can catch her, maybe I can figure out how she keeps coming back. Every time I finished setting the trap, it caught me by the ankle and I had to waste time cutting myself out. I made sure to check that I was safe after the first two times but it kept happening. Lord Almighty, please, I know I’m sane, I checked!

Attempt 4: Haven’t been able to sleep. Worried that I’m going mad. Let something slip to the new doctor. Worried he might get me committed. Can’t aim straight, so I gave up on strategy and went in with an axe. She was talking in the forest with someone, some man? Not sure, no matter what I can’t get a good look at thsem. They ran after I hit her with the axe. Takes longer longer [sic] to cut a head off than you think. Kicked the head into the underbrush and kept chopping and chopping, and I didn’t leave so I could see how she comes back, but I slipped on the blood and stopped looking at her, and then she was gone and there was just this awful effigy of tar in its place and this horrid laughter and it was still bleeding.

There was too much blood in her, too much blood, is this what Longinus felt when he realized he’d pierced the side of a god? Scripture isn’t helping anymore. Who keeps sabotaging me? I know it’s not her because this time it happened when she was ALREADY DEAD.

Attempt 5: Forced myself to get one night’s good sleep. I have to be able to trust my senses. I’m not getting sent to an asylum. She’s not in the woods anymore. Scared her off like a fool. Watched the family house for three days, figured out she must be sneaking out at night, started scouting in the darkness with a hooded lantern. They were at the pond. Snuck up on them in the shadows of the moonlight. He ran again and and [sic] I just grabbed her by the throat and pushed her head under. The water was clearer than I ever remembered. She just looked up at me through the surface for two minutes as bubbles of air slipped from her lips and the look in her eyes wasn’t fear or hatred but just disappointment, like she caught me stealing from the molasses jar. She didn’t struggle, she didn’t try to pry my hands off her neck, she just looked at me, the whites of her eyes flashing in the darkness. I couldn’t. I let go and ran. I know those eyes. I loved those eyes. I loved them more than anybody else’s. They used to look down on me right before I closed my eyes to sleep, and I knew my dreams would be alright. I just ran and ran until I smacked into a tree and just wept.

Take this cup from me. Take this cup from me. Take this cup from me. Take this cup from me. Take this cup from me. Take this cup from me. Take this cup from me. Take this cup from me. Take this cup from me. Father God, take this cup from me, I cannot bear it.

Attempt 6: Cori and Deut visited me out of concern. They offered to just sell her so I’d “stop lurking around town with wild eyes”. I can’t. Uncle Vance sold her and then she killed him. What if she kills them too?

Gave them two bottles of cider as a gift, and one for her, poisoned, hemlock. It won’t work. Nothing’s worked. Maybe she truly can’t be killed. But maybe she’ll get tired of this before I do.

Attempt 7: She got tired of it. She went on a walk, a lot further than where I’ve seen her before. I got so used to her just ignoring me that I didn’t realize it was a trap. She summoned mountain lions from the wilderness. They pounced on me, she took my revolver and my knife. She looked me in the eyes and told me that I can’t kill her, but I might kill someone else by accident. Chastising me like a child. She’s still acting like this is just a game to her, a tantrum. She kissed me on the forehead like a babe she’s putting to sleep before calling her assassins off and walking away.

I am so small. She’s from a world where giants walked the earth, where men lived to be a thousand, and I grew up milking cows in Missouri. She told me but I didn’t want to believe the gap between us was so large. I don’t understand anything about her, why she killed those two men but refuses to kill me, why she still treats me the way she used to with six bullets in her torso from my gun. Is she just waiting for the day I shake the hand of the wrong slaveowner or bump into someone’s slave, when she decides I’ve sinned enough to deserve death by opossum? I worry she’s right, that I simply can’t kill her, but I can’t just live my life knowing she exists. I don’t care about the country. I don’t care about the slaves. I don’t care about her justifications. I can’t live knowing that she can kill me at any time for any reason that pops into her head, because we’re all guilty in her eyes. I will not be oppressed by her ‘sinless’ existence because I had the misfortune of being born white in America. God sent David against Goliath, as he has sent me against her. I just need the right sling.

I need to step back and pray. There has to be a way to kill her permanently. Bible study, breakfast, bible study, lunch, bible study, dinner, bible study, sleep. The Word will show me the way. I’m starting on the Book of John tomorrow.