I'm dead, oh Red, I'm dead I'm dead I'm dead!

I dislike that handmaid with great intensity. It's because of her that I'm now a dead man walking.

Oftim was returning from her errands while I was washing the car. (It's one of the few things I'm permitted to do; I better enjoy it.) Her bright red robes quickly caught my attention, standing out from the dreary plainness of everything else. She looked discouraged for some reason. My dad always told me to try and cheer a lady up, so I took a chance and waved discreetly at her. She didn't even look at me. Insensitive girl.

I tried again, cocking my hat so she could see my eyes in the light. Leaning against the car with an air of nonchalance, I tried something my dad had told me to do: I whistled at her and gave her a big grin.

She froze. I couldn't see much of her face beyond the white hat, but I could bet a slow smile was creeping up her face. Mom's face always lit up when Dad did that, and I assumed it would be the same for this...woman.

With exagerrated motions, she strutted to the back of the house, walking right past me. I tried smiling at her again, but she didn't respond. It was as if I was just invisible to her, something that must be tolerated. No, not even tolerated. Something that just is. Like a plastic potted plant.

I threw my rag on the ground and stomped on it. Is this what has become of the society? Men can't even look at women without being given the cold shoulder? I understand that the handmaids' only purpose is to bear children in place of barren wives, but that doesn't mean they have to be reduced to some lifeless thing. I really don't care what they do. They could be cooped up with the commander all night and I wouldn't care. Just don't strip away their humanity.

And now, thanks to Oftim, I must walk through life fearing that someone saw me. Because if they did, it's only a matter of time before I'm dead.

Hello, how do you do? I'm Avery; it's nice to meet you.

Well. This is interesting. My post is at a commander's house. Never thought I'd live to see the day.

They like me, I think. How could they not? The wife - I think her name is Lynn, I can't be sure - pinched my cheeks and commented on my "striking blue eyes." The commander - whose name I don't know - came up to me. We stood at eye level, though he's at the age where he would begin to shrink. I know I'm about six feet tall. I'd like to see myself be taller than him, but that might never happen. I'm young, fresh out of the academy, eighteen years of age. They may want me as an angel. Maybe I'll become a commander one day and have my own wife and one of those mysterious handmaids.

I met her today. Short blond hair, brown eyes. Her name is odd. Oftim. She looks so out of place in her red garbs. I'm sure she's not too fond of my dark green ones, either. Maye one day, when the world is free again, I can take her ice skating. I've never ice skated before. It was never cold enough. But maybe, up here in the north, the lakes can freeze over and I can escape.

This life is not for me. I need to be doing something with my hands. At least I can wash the car. Perhaps the Marthas will let me cook sometime? My mother taught me to cook so long ago. I hope I can remember how to make something.

My last night in the academy, I had a dream. It was a frightening dream, probably better to be called a nightmare. No one would talk to me. It was as if I had disappeared off the face of the earth, and only a spirit or a memory of me remained. They didn't hear me no matter how often or loudly I screamed out. I was nothing to them. Once in the dream, a figure in green glanced in my direction, but continued on her way.

I don't know what it means. I'm afraid to find out.