The Moth Diaries
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Lucy and Ernessa have become inseparable. Ernessa’s taken her over. She’s consuming her.
What I saw wasn’t real. And I know it wasn’t a dream.
Ernessa is a vampire.
At an exclusive girls’ boarding school, a sixteen-year-old girl records her most intimate thoughts in a diary. The object of her growing obsession is her roommate, Lucy Blake, and Lucy’s friendship with their new and disturbing classmate. Ernessa is an enigmatic, moody presence with pale skin and hypnotic eyes.
Around her swirl dark rumors, suspicions, and secrets as well as a series of ominous disasters. As fear spreads through the school and Lucy isn’t Lucy anymore, fantasy and reality mingle until what is true and what is dreamed bleed together into a waking nightmare that evokes with gothic menace the anxieties, lusts, and fears of adolescence. And at the center of the diary is the question that haunts all who read it: Is Ernessa really a vampire? Or has the narrator trapped herself in the fevered world of her own imagining?
nipples. Even Charley is more developed than Ernessa, and I know she has her period. I got my period for the first time a few months after I came here. I had just turned fourteen. I didn’t tell my mother until I came home for spring break. “I was afraid you weren’t going to get your period because you were so traumatized by everything that’s happened in the last year,” said my mother. “How do you feel?” I didn’t answer her. “Grown up?” she asked. “Daddy only knew me as a girl,” I said. “He
all Dora wants to talk about. Other than taking drugs, which she apparently does a lot. In her spare time, Dora’s writing a novel based on Nietzsche’s philosophy. She’s already written three hundred pages, she says. She tried to explain it to me. It’s a dialogue between Nietzsche and Brahms. Actually, I was trapped in her room while she read passages from Thus Spoke Zarathustra. She’s only bothering with me because there’s no one else who would listen to her without going, “Oh, please …” At the
calling her house to find out what’s happening, but I don’t want to talk to her father. I know that something killed Pater. I know I saw a cloud of moths swarming in Ernessa’s room. I know someone walked along the gutter the night before Dora died. I know Charley is gone and Dora. One by one. I know the person leaning over Lucy was real. Those are facts. After chemistry, it was snowing hard, and everyone wanted to walk back in the snow. Ernessa headed in the opposite direction, toward the
want anything bad to happen to Mr. Davies. I’ve pushed the dresser in front of the door and locked the bathroom door. After dinner I have no time for homework today, only for my writing. Thank God I didn’t tell Mr. Davies much, just enough to get him upset. I could feel his resistance to what I was saying, even before he heard the words. Everything will be in my journal. My journal will protect me. Sunday morning (yesterday) I got up at about eight thirty. I looked in on Lucy, and she was
was a different kind of silence this time. No one knew what to say. From time to time, someone began to whimper a little, and then a few others started up. Everyone took turns crying. I didn’t even cry when Lucy’s mother hugged me. I whispered in her ear, “Cremate the body.” She looked at me in amazement, then she started to sob again. I’m sure Ernessa didn’t cry either. Lucy’s special friend. I saw her this morning in assembly. She was red and swollen, like a pregnant woman. Sofia and I