Thursday, June 30, 2011

Twenty-Seventh Post.

6/23/11; Re-calling events. Sorry, I've been busy with our current events taking place in North Carolina. Posting this had to be delayed the night I originally intended to inform everyone. I couldn't focus much between Zach and Dodgy--Heh, yea, quite the pair I'm in the company of, eh? How the hell does that work, hm? You can check out Zach's post here. I'll post as usual from start to finish.
Oh, and if you don't get the translation from my previous blog about the note Prosper left it's: The lucky ones die first
Right, doesn't that make you feel all fuzzy inside?
I don't like planes. I really, really, seriously, don't like planes. And I really, really, seriously, hate it when people debate me on it. It's really freaking simple, heavy object in the sky, logically speaking: It. Can. Fall. I don't care about the engines, how it stays up. I really, really, seriously, don't give a flying fuck. If it goes up it comes down eventually. So me fidgeting while in line shouldn't be that surprising, the security guards gave me strange looks but whatever. I grew up on strange looks, I think, I'm pretty sure.

Going through the security check points sucked. Don't like taking off my shoes, like having something strapped to my feet. Never know when you need to run. People gave me more funny looks for my bizarre socks, idiots. Don't they have any sense of humor for the absurd things in life? I shrugged, let them scan my backpack and what not before heading to the stop. I couldn't cease myself from looking at everyone, examining them, just freaking watching. Paranoia tore at me, wanted me to examine potential threats. The unhinged control over my paranoia is something I am not happy about, the constant jitters are annoying and I am not happy to have them back. Being in an airport while having loosened control over your paranoia is not fun. I repeat: Not. Fun.

So standing in line was hell. Dealing with the employees was hell. Dealing with the other people was hell. My body was sore as hell. My temper was hell. Getting onto the plane was hell. Waiting for it to take off was hell, god, suspense kills me. I kept my bag with me, guarded by my legs. My fingers anxiously tapped at the arm rest, people passed by relieved not to be sitting next to me. Trust me, I noticed. It probably didn't help that I wasn't looking all that happy either. Stuck against the window I turned my attention to it, watching the employees work outside. It was a minor distraction to the fact that I was on a plane in the first place. When someone sat next to me I felt even more paranoid, it itched to just look them in the face and scare them into oblivion so no one was bumping elbows. I refrained, put my arm in my lap and let my mind wander in a fit of paranoia.

"Are you alright?" The voice came from my left, I felt my eye twitch and muscles tense. "You're fidgeting quite a lot." I looked his way and was greeted by messy hair, on the longer side. Stubble was upon his face which accented his style. An old leather jacket which smelled "Earthy", reminded me of a less hyped up biker. It wasn't hard to see he was muscular under the jacket, with no visible tattoos but I expected he probably had some. Frosty eyes of blue with lines around the eyes, wind-burn by his style is my guess. He wore the barest of smiles, a look of a friendly stranger. "Don't like flying?"

"I love flying." I returned before flatly adding, "Just not in planes."

His expression turned to being lightly humorous, "How else can you fly?"

"Not how," I sighed bitterly, like it was his fault for not knowing the obvious. "but where." He didn't follow, I wanted to grin honestly but refrained.


"This is your captain speaking..."

Any calmness vaporized as the captain began speaking about the flight. Flight would be commencing shortly and I was not at all excited for it. I held the arm rest near the window with both hands, once more facing away from the stranger. I thought I heard a small laugh, passed it off as a child or something in the plane. Great, we were getting ready to take off.

"I can flag down the flight attendant."

"I'll throw her out the window." I retorted without thinking, he looked mildly surprised. Can't say I blame him, probably not what you'd except to spew from my mouth. "I'll be better without her. Just need to distract myself."

 "A man is lying dead in a pool of blood and water. He has wounds but there is no weapon." I looked at him confused but his friendly smile broke out,  "How did he die?"

My fingers impatiently tapped the armrest, "Chuck Norris roundhouse kicked him in the face and he drowned in his own tears." Was the first thing that spewed, I winced at my retort which only served to amuse him.

"No, he was stabbed with an icicle." He leaned into his seat casually and beckoned me, "Your turn."

"There was a family of three moles. They lived outside a home. The family in the house was making breakfast. The father mole stuck his head outside of the hole and said, “I smell bacon and eggs”. The mother stuck her head out the hole and said, “I smell sausage and French toast”. The baby mole not able to poke his head through said, “All I smell is mole asses”." He laughed at that, I regarded him for a moment before glancing outside as the plane began moving. It was back to holding the armrest.

"Why don't you like planes?"

I shot the man a look as if he was the crazy one here. "Because planes can fall. Because I don't like being cooped up in a hot, smelly, loud piece of machinery. Because. I. Can't. Fly." I repeated and bit my lip to shut up.

I glanced out the window; he in turn leaned over and shut the blinds. "Not helping you." I shot him a glare despite knowing it was probably true. He tilted his head to glance down the isle before looking back my way with a smile curling upon his lips, "I once had an argument with a stewardess on a plane. I made the mistake of calling her stewardess. 'No, sir,' she said, 'I'm a flight attendant." I said, "Hm, actually, you're a waitress with a death wish." I covered my mouth with one hand and snickered, trying to hold back from grinning like a maniac.

 I thought through the potential riddles and remembered the exchange between y and Dodgy, my mind. Some good ones passed between them, one I decided to borrow for this instance. "Seven men were on their way to Church when it began to pour. The six that ran were soaked to the bone, but the one that did not stayed dry. How can this be?"

A grin relaxed upon his face, "Easy." He drawled with a chuckle, arrogance hinting itself.  "The six were pallbearers and the one who did not run was dead in the box they carried and therefore safe from the rain."

"Well then, your turn." I said somewhat surprised at the quick response. Went ahead and assumed it was one heard before.

His turn it was, "Kings and queens may cling to power, and the jester's got his call, but, as you may all discover, the common one outranks them all." My mind went to a monarchy, back to Medevial ranks, I wrinkled my nose at a lack of an answer. Just the clue he needed I wasn't answering. "The Ace in a deck of cards." I shook my head.

"I never was, am always to be. No one ever saw me, nor ever will. And yet I am the confidence of all, to live and breathe on this terrestrial ball. What am I?"


"Heh. Tomorrow or the future, actually."

"Gets rid of bad ones, short and tall, tightens when used, one size fits all."

"Hang em' high." I snickered already familiar with this exact one.

"A noose to be exact."

The plane rocked as it began leveling within the air. Floating upon the clouds I imagined, freaking praying we didn't fall through them. I glanced at the closed window with a shaky breath before forcing myself to focus on a new riddle. "If you touch me, I may be snared, if you lose me, nothing will matter." I paused looking over at him as he flashed an encouraging smile. 'Your heart."

His laugh was light, not something you'd find coming from someone that looked the way he did. I wasn't all that surprised, regarded him with a less aggressive nature. "I drive men mad, for love of me, easily beaten, never free." I had to take a double look at his smile, paranoia tried to feed me something else. Looking back at him the smile was friendly, a nice distraction to the tilt in the plane and the progression upwards. "Gold."

My nose wrinkled slightly at the remembrance of the blog, the reason I was even running out to North Carolina for. The threat of that creep called Dodgy and him mentioning of Zach within his blog. His sexual reference uncalled for and insulting, I dare admit my disgust surfaced if only for a moment. Fuck. Mystery knew I had to hurry out, she trusted me to get the job done and I trusted her to keep them safe. Trinity wasn't happy, Ronald--well, he's never happy. Mr. Sunshine was just... Off about it. He tried to follow I brought him back, twice. He tried to drag me back then; I had to fight him three times on that one. He tried to whine and mope and I comforted before telling him to "protect the pack", guard duty took over, heh. Feels weird being gone from them, amazing how these situations can make a short amount of time seem like an eternity. I don't like being away from everyone, I'm worried to the max but there isn't left to do. The plane was already in the air, there wasn't any going back. Looking at the man I knew it was my turn to go, "Only one color, but not one size, stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies; present in sun, but not in rain; doing no harm, and feeling no pain. What am I?" I questioned leaning into the one side of the seat to look at him more clearly. "A shadow."

The stewardess leaned down interrupting us from our riddles, the man beside me looked towards her slowly. He looked momentarily irked but the calmness that stretched across his face took away all forms of doubt. He looked at me briefly to answer if I wanted any snacks, I shook my head and he shooed off the stewardess. I caught him watching her walk away, assuming it was due to the obvious reasons. I snickered silently to myself and he got up, excusing himself to the restroom. We were flying, up high in the sky. I was stuck to the seat with a displeased scowl, silence falling over me now that I was alone. My mind pretty much overloaded with stress and I was able to just pass off as a result of it.

The building burned within the center of town, flashes of a sunny day breaking through, a grassy park before night set back in and the burning building continued crackling. Heavy breathing, slow blinking as it transitioned back and forth. The view of the building slowly turned away to look down a dark street, yellow bridge on the far end. Stumbling in first person, blinking of the eyes, transitioned back to the daylight. Children were screaming, running away and the view lowered to look at one’s self, a red stained dress, splattered arms, soaked hands, and a knife.

A hooded boy, grabbing the arm of the person. Struggling to pull away, knife jamming into his side--laying back on a table, staring into a bright light. Disoriented and dizzy, a scrubbed man raised a needle and lined it up with the vein. Vision blurred, head tilting to the left as the black hospital cross on the wall was the final thing ever seen.

Woke up to him peering out the window over me, I bit back any comments due to the fact he assisted previously. Patiently I waited as he pulled back and shut the screen so I could sit up. Turbulence hit briefly waking me up fully, I sat up in the seat like an alert animal, no doubt. From his laughing that description probably fits best. I downed some Advil to shrug off the pain in my back before relaxing the rest of the way, occasional small talk coming between the two of us until the plane landed. It was more bantering to try and distract me from our descent; afterwards he gave a short good-bye before splitting ways. I grabbed a cab to town, North Carolina, fricking green as hell but pretty. Zach sent me coordinates for a meeting, I planned to originally write a post prior to meeting him but after that message I took to memorizing my surroundings that was passed, the route back to the airport.

Ended up on a street corner, I walked the rest of the way into the woods with my backpack slung over one shoulder, knife in hand. I met Zach not all too pleased by the time I arrived; he was a bit put off by the weapon at my side. We discussed things for a bit, he wasn't at all different from the way he commented. Least I had something familiar to work with. He took enjoyment in using my nicknames for people on me, stretching the words. From an outsider's perspective it would probably appear to be awkward gibberish and light teasing insults.

That was when we were blindsided. Zach was gone from before me in a blur with another figure, they rolled a few feet away and separated, I tossed off the pack and flipped the blade around to the offense. I recognized the man who was pulling himself up, the biker jacket pulled me back to the plane and I fumed. Bullet rang past us and at Dodgy, figures stationed from within the woods the entire time. The enemy moved like a leaf in the wind, but even leaves can be vulnerable to a high speed bullet. Collapsed to his knee, knife being launched at Zach and I took off. My hand grabbed his shirt in case he tried to slip the jacket, knife meeting his throat as my shoe skidded off the floor and met him in the crotch. Force of impact and use of body weight knocked him to his back and I sat pinning him with the blade.

We secured and brought him back to Zach's home, I spent the remainder of the night speaking with my host before things became... Messy in the basement. No stranger to these things, Mystery will not be pleased but I can't afford to let someone who has been obviously watching her just walk free without any information. We have him and I intend to do what I can to protect her and the rest of them back home.


Further details are under debate on whether or not to post. We've been rather busy over here, while learning of a new place is enjoyable during the day and at night dealing with a crazy murderer is not, I still can't wait to get home. I miss my own territory and it's been just over a week. The things you people do to me.

Stay safe,

Friday, June 17, 2011

Twenty-Sixth Post.

A girl was screaming in the blackness this time, I woke up from my dazed state and stared into the emptiness surrounding me. The pitch intensified and I ran, no pain was here, leg not injured, spine, shoulder, it did not exist here and I really didn't care to know why. I just ran towards the voice who began screaming incoherent words before becoming muffled. A whirring came to life followed by a small humming, the muffled voice shrieked a few times before the screaming began again. I kept moving until I hit into something solid, and then all the lights just turned on. Whiteness engulfed my vision and I found myself standing in a bright hallway, far too white to be real. The tile beneath my feet was uncomfortably cold, the ceiling stained in some spots. Hard to focus when the screaming was going on, I looked to what I ran into and found it was a door, a thin window ran vertically down it.

It was strange, I couldn't see through it all too well, had to stand on my tip toes to see through the window fully. Within the room was a tilted back chair, a young girl strapped down with a mouth piece keeping her muffled. Her brunette hair pulled back, eyes wide and wildly looking between the people in white. I recognized what was occurring here from previous studies, Electroconvulsive therapy. I yanked at the handle of the door but it wouldn't budge, I could hear them starting for another round. The girl's screaming began again and it only served to raise my adrenaline. Fucks sake, I couldn't stop shaking.

"What are you doing out of your room?"

A voice came from the right, I looked up to see a tall man, face covered by a white surgeon's mask. I was frozen against my better judgment, my feet wouldn't move and my skin tingled with a fear I could even describe. His head tilted while awaiting a response but nothing came forth. All I could hear was my breathing which only grew louder as his hand reached down and grasped ahold of the fabric I wore. The moment he began dragging me away from the door was the moment I left first person and entered observer mode, watching as my childhood self was pulled further and further down the bright hallway.

"What you're feeling now is just going to get worse."

I looked to my left at the Caged One, she looked younger than how she usually appeared. Her hair was lighter, the dirty blonde mine used to be in the past years before it darkened, her eyes were a blue-grey, a color that mimicked fathers when they shifted through the color cycle. Her lips curved up into a secretive smile as she walked right by me and headed down the hall, following the dream child.

"It's only just beginning."

"What is just beginning, exactly?"

"Your life."

I looked at the door where the unknown girl was, through the window I saw an empty room. The building had fallen into silence, shutting down bit by bit. The Caged One's figure slowly began fading into the brightness; the white gown she wore began merging into the whiteness, becoming one with it.

"You really should wake up."

I watched as she gave a careless two-finger wave before the blackness crushed the dream, or memory, or whatever this was. Standing in the hollowness I felt no peace. I collapsed, sitting with my knees propped up to my chest, fuck sleep... It would seem this was not going to be a restless waste of time.


And then morning came hours later, and I was right. Exhausted and not rested in the least, I fell into silence most of the day. Healing up fine, Mystery's remedies for the bruises and scrapes Tzamain gave me helped a lot. My leg is healing, slowly but hell; I'm not going to complain as long as I can still use the damn thing.

Decided it was high time Mr. Sunshine got a bath, too. I headed out to get some stuff we could use at the house and passed through the ward Mystery had put up. Immediately beginning on my usual path I was just barely out of sight of the house when I came across something most unflattering. Directly in the center of my usual walking path was a stick standing vertically, and upon that stick was a decaying head. Let me clarify... This head was from the missing body of my doppelganger. To put it simply when Mystery and I hid the body to deal with securing the unconscious Mr. Sunshine it went missing, I mean, we assumed it was an animal since there are some hungry bastards (and the Jersey Devil). When no news came up it was a relief to know a person didn't find and take it, so we were left to assume it was a hungry critter.

This was unexpected and disgusting. Her decaying face, well, my decaying face stuck on a branch. Looked like something out of a bad movie. So... I did what any half-sane person would do; I walked up, pulled out the stick, and headed back to the mansion with it. I stepped inside the ward and called Mystery out only, really not wanting Trinity to have to see this. Mystery was none too pleased; we looked at the decayed head and could see that shoved within the mouth was a folded piece of paper. I felt myself scowl as I tugged out the paper, laying the stick and head on the ground. Unfolding the paper I read over what was said, I'll write it out here for you guys.

Th3 1u<k\| 0n3s DI3 Fir7t

If you guys haven't guessed yea, it's no doubt Prosper. Looking over his blog it pretty much just clicks. I shoved the note into my pocket and decided to dig a hole within the ward to bury the head. Nothing would get it now, it could just fade and cease to exist.

So... Eventful sleep, eventful day, I got the supplies for bathing Sunshine. Going to see how that goes tomorrow. Need to think about the dream part, take some time to process it later.

Stay safe.

Monday, June 13, 2011

Night of the Wild Tzamain.

You know... Writing that title I originally imagined an exotic bonfire with smores. Best. Blend. Ever. In all seriousness, no. It wasn't anything like that. This happened Saturday evening, we’ve been bunkered down since then. Been fiddling on the cellphone a bit but until we knew what we were going to do we kept our mouths shut. We’re posting it now, though. I'll just start from the beginning.


It was drawing near dinner time; my hands were wrapped in a few bandages and gloved for working. I was putting away some of the tools, knowing fully well Mystery wouldn't let me get away with missing another meal to work. Sitting on a freshly cut beam I dropped tool by tool into the box, grumbling at about this tired broken body. Least we got some things done today, put up a rope ladder on one of the trees, now we have easy access to the second level. After we got tangled up and then straightened out Mystery headed outside to garden, Trinity and Ron were on the tire swing no doubt. I could hear Mr. Sunshine giving short growls now and then, the quiet rattling of the chains letting me know where he was moving to down below. Just another small comfort, knowing where he was meant a lot and I don't mean to protect him but to protect us from him as well... Should anything happen.

I should have realized by the quieting something was coming, the atmosphere just changed. Hell, I felt just weird up until it happened. The sound of bushes shuffling, and then a giant bang, the door that was covered mostly by sticker bushes came flying off the hinges, the force of it landing yards inside the mansion. I stood up immediately, grabbing hold of the saw blade in one hand, hammer in the other and looking at the intruder. A man that came close to six feet stood in the doorway; I would have thought it to be Prosper if not for the mask. A black GP-5 Russian style gas mask adorned the face of this figure; the light caught the lenses that were tinted red, giving the man that much more of a menacing introduction. He was covered in black, the boots, the cargo pants, the plain t-shirt.

And that figure, it moved like a goddamn tank on steroids. I chucked the hammer hitting him in the abdomen but it meant little to him. He jumped over the beam I had previously been sitting on and reached out, I stumbled backwards dodging his hand and hit awkwardly into the wall behind me, sitting against it before I slid until my ass hit the floor. He looked down and raised his leg and I rolled out of there dodging him stomping down. I pulled off the ground and gained some distance which he was intent to keep very limited. The back of my shirt was pulled, I was briefly lifted off the ground at how hard he yanked me backwards, my shoes caught the floor and I skidded around to face him which only result in pain swelling on the side of my face, I hit the floor none too graceful either. He leaned down to take another swing and I held up the saw, cutting open his forearm in the process. He yelled something incoherent, or I just didn't give a flying fuck to hear what it was at the time. Either way I aimed up, my leg squaring against his stomach, a little lower he bent which was just enough for punch across the face.

I swear, his eyes flashed beneath the lenses. Bleeding onto my shirt he grabbed the front of it and threw me, not really seeming to care where I landed. I just remember going up and then coming down, hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs. Punching and kicking I can handle, but being thrown and landing flat on your back or stomach just hurts all at once, way worse in my opinion. I lost the saw when I landed, no idea where the hell it went. Just flew out of my hand. He was talking again, no; he was shouting I remember because it hurt my head like all hell. Recalling the sass I gave him on his blog and my own. I grunted pulling myself up on all fours and found him already in front of me, bending low and scooping me up by my throat. And then I was just in the air, dangling, and air slowly being cut off. I grabbed his forearm to pull myself up, give some leverage but it only worked in short bursts. I could barely reach him with my legs, couldn't use that for leverage nor could I nail him one in the ribs. All I knew was that 1) I was becoming dizzy 2) He was stilling talking 3) And all I could think was "I wish he'd just... Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

His hand tightened around my throat as his arm jolted, a hard whack echoing through the mansion. I peeked down to see Mystery going at it with her stick, doing her thing. Whacking the ever loving shit out of Tzamain from behind. I really wanted to laugh, I knew I would later, but right then I had to converse was little air was still able to slip into my body. He turned on her, grabbing the stick with his bleeding arm, denting the chunk as he did so until it snapped in two. I heard her gasp briefly before regaining, smacking Tzamain in the face with what was left of the stick. It was a hard swing that knocked his mask to one side, he stepped back and she pursued on him with another whack, a harder one after that, and again and again she attacked. He tensed, taking the blows with short snarls and grunts, and the next noise that came was not from him, a screech I knew all too well and then hell just opened a can of worms and dumped it onto our party.

I saw him, Mr. Sunshine came out of nowhere, grabbing Mystery and throwing her to the ground roughly, I panicked thinking he was going to attack her but he did not. He turned upon Tzamain and launched an assault, leaping onto his back and clawing at his masked face from behind. The enemy of ours yelled gripping my throat tightly. I choked, really thinking my neck was going to snap. Sunshine just kept going, his hands grabbed Tzamain's shredded mask and ripped off the remains, and I stared straight into the blazing green eyes, his bald head scratched open and bleeding. It was only for a split moment before Sunshine bit into his exposed collar, snarling like a wild animal. I was flung a few feet; fuck the landing I was happy to still be breathing. I pulled myself up and was met by Mystery; we stood back and watched as Mr. Sunshine tore into Tzamain.

The large man grabbed our companion by the hood and threw him onto the floor in front of him; I coughed at the sudden intake of breath, wanting nothing more than to help him. But hell, what could either of us do when Sunshine was carving out Tzamain's dark meat? He sprang off the ground like-like a freaking monkey, or pouncing cat, something, and just clawed his way into the man’s chest. The two men just brawled, and Sunshine just took every punch, every kick, and came back with another leap onto Tzamain's person, biting into him and tearing out new pieces. The pain was starting to get to him, and I could visibly see missing chucks of his body. The dent in his collar, uneven arms... His shirt was barely existent. The moment be began showing he was tiring was when Mr. Sunshine changed his attack pattern. He grabbed Tzamain and began whipping him around like a stiff ragdoll that needed to be loosened up. Screeching, growling, all these noises inhuman. Our enemy kept fighting, he punched Sunshine back a few steps but he only came at him harder, grabbing Tzamain's torso and slamming him into the wall. He bit into his side, drawing blood, tearing out flesh. Another dent, another missing piece.

Sunshine's face was filthy before but now it was just red with blood. His light grey eyes glinting with satisfaction at every piece of meat he bit off. Tzamain reacted violently to being shoved into the wall; he began punching Sunshine in the head again and again. I grabbed Mystery's wrist, really hoping she would prevent me from running at them both because honestly, I'm still in no condition to fight. Mr. Sunshine snarled, venom spewing out of his mouth in the form of gargled growls, he grabbed Tzamain's belt with both hands and heaved up, turning and throwing our enemy only a few feet. Just to get him off, it would seem. He hurried over and they continued, Sunshine grabbing a tiring Tzamain and throwing him upwards to the second floor through the opening. He vanished from the first level, but we could hear the screaming mixed with Sunshine's shrieking. Blood flew down onto the first level and I snapped. I rushed forward to the ladder and poorly climbed up it, scrambling onto the second level with Mystery right with me. She grabbed my ankle and pulled me back near the open we just climbed out of and I really did need to thank her for quelling my need to step in.

And there they were, or there Sunshine was and what was left of Tzamain. Carved open like my doppelganger was and Sunshine was chewing on pieces of him as he sat on the body's torso. I looked to Mystery who was looking up and followed her gaze, staring up at the black helicopters that hovered. A familiar logo plastered in red on the side of them. VINDICATE. I glanced to their fallen ex. comrade before looking back to the chopper, hell, we were already in deep shit so I flipped them the bird. Mystery smacked my arm down and called to Sunshine who looked our way with a sneer. Calling that we had to get down below, I called to Sunshine who wouldn't budge from his dinner. Mystery was trying to seduce him with steak and I realized maybe he doesn't know the difference between meats. And in the midst of panic I screamed in a voice that could rival Malcolm’s mother's, "If you don't get the fuck down there you will never eat meat again!"

And then he was on us, and we fell through the hole he threw Tzamain through, both held awkwardly. I was practically clinging to his side at the sudden drop, realizing I didn't go splat I swatted at his stomach until he dropped me... Which he did do to us both. Mystery was getting the children while I tugged along Mr. Sunshine to cover. He wore a lopsided -bloody- grin, like a child that was just so damn happy without cause. When he got tired of being dragged and I grew way too sore I dropped his arm and walked away, seconds later to be flung and land onto his back. He was at Mystery's side a moment later while I was slouched, muttering vulgarities.

We decided we were going to park it there that night. We stayed up, stayed in pairs, and did not leave the mansion. How could we? What if they landed, what if they were out there, or what if we dragged them to another place? There were too many variables. We were better off on our own turf and ready. Trinity and Ronald slept by one another come morning when we decided to take sleeping shifts. I woke up to Sunshine in my lap again, his mask pressed tightly to his chest. My lips screwed down in a scowl the moment I heard Mystery chuckling, telling me on he weaseled his way over. I slid him off and onto the ground to begin my own shift while Mystery slept soon after.

We are alright. Bit bruised, a bit scratched, the kids are all alright though.
Is it bad "Another One Bites the Dust" is playing in my head now?
No idea, but I really want to just curl up in a fort of blankets right about now. Or at least until I’m healed up.
Seriously, I’m just happy we’re ok.

Stay safe,

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Twenty-Fifth Post.

Sorry for not updating, just haven't been able to sit down and focus here. You would think that it would be easy, to just sit here and rant or vent out my frustrations. It's not, though. I'm used to others venting to me but when it comes time to do it myself everything just falls silent. I guess it's the years of just brooding over my own problems and swallowing them before they could ever leave my head. I've spent most of my time so far going over repairs, using the excess materials from home. Mystery seems to worry I'm doing a lot when it's really more of securing the levels with a few beams. I wouldn't change this place, it's rather lovely as is and aside from needing a few ladders and beams I think it will be fine as is. Debating over solar power is still going on, I lean towards it so that we may be able to do work here rather than walking to town or at my house. Been trying to separate from there, I took precautions when all this shit started a couple months ago. Distancing from them, making myself invisible, they are used to thinking I'm in the house but not seeing me.

I feel like I traded one home for another. I don't just refer that to Mystery, Trinity, and Ronald (whom I have yet to speak much to), but I mean that bond I spoke about in the previous post with Sunshine as well. Bothersome, feeling pulled towards something or someone without knowledge as to why. I haven't slept much, honestly. Aside from the first night we settled in here, I slept a damn lot then. Woke up with Sunshine stretched on the chain, half in my lap. Realized then that sitting at the bottom of the slope still meant he could reach me. Mr. Sunshine hasn't tried anything hostile; he just doesn't seem to realize his own strength. I came down to visit while taking a break on the house the other day and he grabbed my arm when I was heading back to work. Left a bruise, I scolded him briefly, tried to explain to not grab so tightly. I think he may have understood examined his own hands before I left, I peeked in later to see him playing with stick. Grabbing different sized ones, I swear... It looked like he was testing his grip on them. I could just be losing it though, but I refuse to acknowledge this early that he isn't capable of learning. He's clever, I know that much.

I like having Trinity and Ronald here, despite not speaking much to him yet I still adore having her company. When she arrived and jumped on me I felt a surge of pain, but her appearance took it away. I've never been too good with kids, I attract them like flies at random times but I fail at knowing how to handle them. She's a goofy one but smarter than most her age. It's nice. She likes her "ice creams"; I laughed my ass off when I saw the melted tubs she initially brought with her and her brother. Mystery has been trying to feed her other things, but she always ends up with a carton of ice cream in her lap at some point in the day. She's so silly.

I saw Mystery's post before. Can't say everything is alright, because it's not. Everything feels scrambled; I'm hoping this new scene and tending to some repairs will be a nice, small project so clear myself of this shit. I haven't slept much; when I do it's usually just blackness again. It's nice, peaceful like before but it just doesn't comfort as it used to. My mind is constantly working, thinking, trying to remember and I have yet to discover an off switch. I've been doing a lot of pacing, stretching, trying to get my leg working better. It hurts like hell, split it open twice since being here. The stitches the Doctor put in a few days ago helped until I attacked Mystery on the first. I came close to just burning the wound closed, short term pain would beat dealing with the annoyance it's being now, but I figured that would give her more to worry about. Last thing I want to do is worry her. I enjoy having Mystery around in person now, it's nice to sit back and talk to her. I snickered at her sleeping form, tempted to flip the hammock but refrained. Taking my nightly rounds due to this insomnia is helpful, keeps me familiar with the place and where everyone stays. I feel a little better knowing where everyone is.

Walking back to the house I saw Prosper. He was walking with me step by step some distance away, his head turned towards me, watching as he followed and yet he did not touch a single tree. Weaved through them while his head remained in my direction. I kept an eye on him but he never approached, the only sound from both of us was the crunching of sticks and leaves beneath our shoes. It amazes me how his hulking form can disappear and reappear within the woods, how I sometimes lose him when his figure is on the larger side. He's bigger than Mr. Sunshine, a bit smaller than Bad Man Walking was, and definitely smaller than Victor. Close encounters with Prosper had me see firsthand that he was a tank, and seeing his blog posts I'm seeing he's either very clever or actually smarter than he lets on.

He cut me off near the mouth of the woods, keeping some distance. I thumbed at the knife in my right hand; I wondered if he could feel the amount of intensity I felt on the inside, how much restraint I was forcing to not attack him. I noted he didn't dress like regular proxies; he didn't wear a hooded sweatshirt this time. A dark brown, maybe even maroon jacket and black shirt beneath it, dark jeans, tan work boots, old brown utility gloves. His mask stared at me; the symbol over each eye was what I had to look at to see the eyes which he did not hide. The brown gaze was lighter in this lighting, looking more like copper today. I could see his hair, shortly cut and very dark, borderline black. He had to fall just under six feet, his slightly hunched figure posed with some casual air.

Prosper leaned slightly to his right, looking past me for a moment before looking over his shoulder. His head turned back to me, a slow tilt. I didn't follow what he was getting at; I just knew I wanted to get to the house and then head back to base. We stood there for minutes; he wasn't budging to go anywhere. I wonder if he even had a plan at all or if it was some sort of mind fuckery he was trying. I was not amused and impatient, unlike him. I moved to the left and walked around in double the arm’s length of distance. He followed as I went around him, turning his head to the point of snapping, body following in suit. The knife in my hand was firmly grasped, I was rather happy to have bought one since my old one was still missing. I kept moving, the only sound I heard was that of a short, raspy “Heh”. He was gone when I looked back; my guess was he relocated his point to watch from now that I was back on my property.

I headed inside from my window and well, here I am. I'll be getting to some other things from my disappearance. I have been thinking about it, you know. To type up or not, maybe it will help others to read what shit they are capable of, what they are willing to do. I don't know how much I'm going to write, maybe just what Executor and Advocate told you all about. Not sure, just something.

I should head back, I'll be lucky if I make it there by before it's completely dark.

Stay safe,

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Happy Freaking Birthday: Part Six.

Mystery told me about her encounter with Wildman, Victor, and the Executor. I was glad to see her unharmed and hear that Shadowchild too was well. It meant a lot to know she came all this way then to try and find me, even after everything at home. Listening to her was a comfort all its own, to be able to hear a voice I trusted. So few there are I can say such to. My hands stopped their nervous shaking, calmed; we switched to discussing plans on what we were to do. It was chosen this place would be our "bat lair", or base of operations. I nearly cackled, sarcastically, at how long it was going to take to get this place up and running. Working out a power source especially, solar perhaps? Checking out the floors beams and the likes would be wise to help secure the levels. On top of that a ladder or rope ladder would work on the trees that have grown tall within the building itself. The roof was nearly gone which provided enough life during the day and a decent amount during the night, so I found out that evening. The third level was pretty much non-existent, the second floor was together a fair amount. Those are pretty much the basics of what I'd like to see done immediately. Mystery knows this, and has her own say. Either way, it's a project I look forward to working on... After I get some sleep and fixed up.

This place is amazing, though. Better than the fort I found a while back. Not to mention it was within walking distance as well, figuring out the fastest route via map would be simple enough. Walking the terrain once the leg was a bit better would help too. I walked the perimeter outside already a few times, glancing out into the woods surrounding the building. Vaguely wondering how near Prosper was willing to get, I could see the disturbing mask within my mind peering through the trees to my position. Paranoia, I had control over my own, tamed it well and would have to again now that I have lost some control of it. One more glance and I decided it would be alright, Mystery's method of being warned should do well enough should Prosper want to play up close.

I went back into our sanctuary and slid down the slope in the floor to where Sunshine was. Chained in the chains taken from the garage, ones my father used to use when working or found on this old farmland. Shackles were my finding and I snatched them as well before we came here. Useful they are, we would have to see when he woke up, though.

I eased myself at the bottom of the slope and looked to his form laying curled on his side. This man I knew to be vicious, that committed criminal acts during my times of rest and taunted me with personal tokens when awake now laid sleeping. His chest puffing and deflating slowly within his deep sleep. A filthy and lightly scarred face retaining some boyish similarities like from the childhood memories.

Kill him before he kills you.

I thinned my gaze upon his figure; he was completely unaware of these thoughts.
Kill him, for everything he's done. Can do. It nagged at me strongly, the simplicity of just snapping his neck.

He tried to kill you as a child.
He betrayed you already.

Wasn't that just because I couldn't save him? I bit back with doubt.

You were a child, what could you have done?
Puffed out your lower lip and hope He'd return the boy?


You ran.
You chased.
We failed.

The whys still are sitting there, unknown. Too many holes. Too many variables. I want answers and you won't give them.

Kill him before he kills you.
That is my answer.

I felt a heavy scowl weighing down my lips, like hell I would accept that. I watched as Mr. Sunshine's face contorted into something negative. Did he dream, and if so, does that mean he had nightmares too still? I scooted over closer to examine him and found his body shivering lightly despite the warm night air. Tempted to leave I instead stayed, hesitantly reaching out a hand to pet the shaved dirty blonde head. The shivering began to slow the longer I remained sitting near him, lightly comforting. Maybe there would be more reason to call him Mr. Sunshine, perhaps it wasn't just a sarcastic title given because of the gloomy setting he weaved in his previous visits. Seeing him then I could see the innocence, that of a child trapped beneath years of corruption and suffering. The sun was still peeking through the thick clouds.

Perhaps shit was going to get a bit better. Hell, if he could retain that I still have some hope. Whatever the fuck I am or was may still have hope, for a better tomorrow. I smiled lightly, if not without a tug to the heart strings. I hummed quietly "You Are My Sunshine" the way I grew up with it, refusing to allow the Executor to take such a memory from me. My sleeping companion stilled, calm and I felt as his fingers pinched my tattered pajama bottoms within a light hold. I had a fail voice for singing, but humming at least I got down decently, I guess. Or maybe he just remembered it, eh? Kindred souls we were. He probably remembered and knew more than I of our past. I hoped that when he woke up later there would be no hard feelings about Mystery knocking him one, and if he could speak I damn well prayed he had something to say about what the hell happened all that time ago.

I honestly had no idea whether or not he was a danger. He ripped apart the front of my doppelganger. I would like to think it was because he knew she wasn't the real me, but the paranoia of maybe he was just ready to kill me still comes into play. Does this hinder the fact I am going to protect his life as if it were Mystery's or my kin's, as if it were those I fight for? No. He's just as precious. I've seen a gem covered by coal once before, unable to shine against the rays of the sun. I see Mr. Sunshine and he might be just like that, only he might be finally peeking through the layers of coal. He may have finally begun breaching the surface.

We can only hope he's trying to regain something he lost, the control. I just don't know how I would proceed if his death was the only conclusion. There is this bond, you see, which is so fucking hard to describe... But it is just there. I don't talk about that lover shit, I'm not much of an expert there, heh. I mean, that feeling that you're familiar with something that it becomes this strong connection, you must have it with you. That of a girl who lost her memories, perhaps her mind in the past, and can still feel those connections without any given idea as to why they are there. But they are, and they are strong, and she knows she has to protect them and figure out why... Just why. And maybe then things will be a little better, a little more whole. Then again... No one is ever whole, are they? No one is ever whole until they are dead. But she doesn't need to be whole; she just needs to be close enough, right? I just need to be close enough. So I look to Mr. Sunshine and feel this connection, from a friendship that was strong enough to withstand a jump in time with him first taken to when he tried to drown me. And I think... Hell dude, if you die on me I'm going to be sad, but I'm not going to quit moving forward. But I would have to go through this entire thing feeling hollow and vacant, and that wouldn't get me very far. It wouldn't get me far at all. So... I'm going to protect him, even if others think I'm crazy, even if he is vicious still when he wakes up. It's not going to be easy but that's fine, I don't like easy. I don't need to feel like a winner in a world you literally can't win in.

So for the night I stayed, ended up falling asleep back against the slope because I sure as hell still wasn't going to nearby him in a state of vulnerability. Variables, my friends, too many. Mystery came round in the morning and shooed me home, I cleaned up and returned with food and a sketch pad to figure out what the hell kind of changes we were going to start making. Sunshine was still out, which was good. I think he was entitled to a rest within a safe environment.

Here is to meeting in the flesh a woman I consider kin, and here is to reuniting with a friend I can barely remember. To keeping him safe and the rest of our asses. Honestly, I think shit is just getting started. So... Leg, body in general, heal up fast because if you think that road getting here was bumpy you've got another thing coming, heh.

Stay safe, darlings,

If she wants to walk into hell let her.
She may have forgotten but we remember.
We remember everything.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Happy Freaking Birthday: Part Four.

"This place looks like shit." Were the first words that came out of my mouth. Hands on my hips I gazed around the place that was to be our base. Let me explain what I meant... The broken down mansion covered in green, completely overgrown, was fucking amazing but ultimately a mess. I stopped my leg from bouncing where I stood and turned back to Mystery with a scowl, "If you expect me to do all the slave work on this shoddy place you'll get my boot up your ass."

The woman opened the trunk and pulled out the wheelbarrow, "I'm don't. Mind giving me a hand?"

I shot a suspicious look back to the mansion before heading back to the car and opening the backseat door. Mr. Sunshine laid on his side, arms and legs off the seat. He was tattered, dry blood staining the dark sweatshirt and jeans, his hands bare were just covered in faded red. His mask was on his person, but off his face. As well, the hood he wore which had black see through fabic to hide the masked face, was also pulled off from earlier. Crappy stitching makes me think he did it himself. We pulled up the wheelbarrow to the door and I went around to the other side, Mystery (being a giant compared to me) was able to reach over the wheelbarrow and pull his legs while I pushed the fellow's shoulders. Let's just say we managed to get him in with little bruising and only a bit of humiliation on my part... Mystery tugged his legs while I was pushing and I sort of landed awkwardly. Very happy he was unconscious... Very, very happy.

Punched her for laughing so hard.

We wheeled our friend into the building and gave a quick looksee as to where he was going to go, eventually choosing the sunken down part of the house. The kitchen had collapsed into the basement at some point in the past, there was a nice slope that led right down to the dimly lit place. We brought him down there, the lush of green welcoming his body as we pretty much dropped him out of the wheelbarrow. Bound his wrists in some shackles and linked chains to wrap around the base of the tree. Together we secured him in a spot that would surely be of comfort when he woke up. I was hesitant to leave but did so anyways, the two of us had much to speak about during our time of silence.

We went up to the first floor and I sat down, needing to take some weight off my leg finally. Mystery took a seat nearby, the moonlight making her more visible to my curious eyes. She was pale, probably more than me. Her hair was rather curly, tied back within a pony-tail. No makeup, unless you count some minor bruising that was starting to show. I glanced to her shirt which read "Books is good" on it, nearly facepalmed for that not being the first clue to let me know who this was initially. To say I was surprised Mystery was female is only partially true, what bothered me more was the fact I was not informed despite the time spent building such a kinship. My mind reeled over her expression when the axe began down on its path to her skull, I could feel my hands on the verge of shaking.


I took in a deep gulp of air and released it slowly.

Not an enemy.

My eyes remained heavily set upon the woman across from me, I repeated the words within my own head. She was not my enemy. Not the enemy.

"Are you alright, Shady?" I blinked a few times, focusing once more and nodded.

CRACK goes her skull!
We have a winner, folks!

I leaned forward, my good leg pulled up for I could prop my arm against it and rest my forehead within the palm of my hand. My fingers wrapped around my bangs, lightly tugging at the images that continued to nag my thoughts. The axe brought back the knife I used to murder those two proxies with, children of other families lost and gone. Families which brought on the thought of my own, whom I still haven't seen since I've been back. I wondered how they were, if they were even still alive. Fucks sake... Almost two weeks with a fake, one of His, what the hell should I be expecting even?

"Shady." I stopped tugging at my bangs and looked back up at her. "Talk to me. You aren't alone."

I shifted slightly, "Yea." was the only thing muttered for the first minute we began into the conversation. "I'm just... Tired." I could feel my left hand itching to tap, already jittery and flexing on the ground.

"You just spent days with the Executor and his goons. On top of that a week walking back home, tired isn't the only thing."

What the hell was I supposed to tell her? Where did I begin? How did I begin? I fidgeted, this was different. Comforting others was something I was used to but what the hell did I know about it when it was in reverse? "Sorry." Is what came out next, a heavy sigh huffing out.

"You don't have anything to apologize for."

I nipped my lip, really wishing now the rubber bands were still on my wrist so I had something to distract with. "I know. But still."

Just start talking. Take your own advice and just start rambling.

Right. Rambling, I was good at that.

"They came during the night... The Executor, The Advocate, and Proxy 269... Prosper." I began into the retelling. I didn't cry, I didn't shake until the mentioning of Mr. Sunshine. The stay at the place, dark, smelling of hell on Earth. I told her how they had to drag me out, eventually knocking me into an unconscious state. The blurry awakening into unknown territory, strapped down with three shadows surrounding the cold metal table. The violence that ensued between us all. Trying to wretch free from the bindings only to have my skull slammed into the table, the process beginning immediately with the Executor. The mental war raged from that early morning till the afternoon. No intermissions, Advocate slipped into place when the Executor felt finished for that time.

I told her about blacking out and hearing the Caged One screaming for hours as Executor tried to break through the barrier. I explained to how I was awake and aware when the Advocate played his games. With only one thing to go on, one whisper from a forgotten past: The pain is nothing compared to the memories. And while I can't remember fucking much I told her I believed it true. That little reminder and I held onto it when Executor began blinding me from the outside world.

I explained the short hours I had to sleep, how I spent a majority of them just tugging  at the shackles, mind coursing with different plans of escape. And how 269 would be watching through the small slot on the door as I did so. A silent taunt, a silent threat to not even try. I would glare at him for hours as I did so until I fell asleep, only to be woken up by begin dragged back to the room for another round of fighting and pain.

I told her how I would shout at them, "You can't tame me! Can't tame me! Can't tame me!" when the drugs began fucking me over. Twisting in the bindings as I laughed hysterically at them. At the sour expression Executor wore. They tried harder and I adapted, and I laughed through the unwilling cries.

Then there were the memories ripped forth, I told her the sequences seen, everything that was felt. How they tried to use it against me, but they were my memories. Mine. Events I couldn't remember, and everything they tried to add to the memories were all just lies. Pretty little elaborate fucking lies. And I told them, I told them they were being retarded and Executor slapped me hard for it. Leaving me just with the Advocate who had a smile in his breathing and a grin to his words.

I told her of the new ones that came because of my resistance, how I watched them more than I watched 269. How I listened to them when they spoke when the Executor wasn't around. How I learned they were gone, for they were murderers before they came to be His. Of the girl who I killed through the underside of her chin, with a blade found at any kitchen section of a store. Gutting the second backup until he was dead upon the floor, then tangoing with 269 when he nearly broke down the door. The feeling of the knife parting the meat of my leg to scrap against the bone of my thigh. Then to be carried to another room I had yet to see and have my leg wrapped enough to not bleed out. The entire time my upper body chained and then restrained by 269's crushing hold from behind.

Dealing with Mr. Sunshine as a child, when the Executor made the elaborate little pocket inside my head. Where I was imprisoned for what felt like months when it was only nearly a day. Time... It has a cruel sense of humor. I always thought it, but that experience really hammered it into place. He kept me there, opening more time to try and break me within my own head in a setting I thought to be reality. Only when he treaded into the locked away memories, when he pulled forth Mr. Sunshine did all hell break loose. I explained to Mystery the best I could about feeling like I was being pulled, a new weight latching onto me. It was her, the Caged One, and we blended together harmoniously for the first time, or at least from what I can remember. We crumbled his sphere of lies, past and present working as once. But he would not have it, the breaking sphere collapsed upon us and I woke up back within reality. At least, I hoped it was reality for a long time... Questioned it until I made contact with Mystery. I explained how I couldn't remember the moment we blended together, but I just remember we just... Were, there, as one, and I never felt so close to being whole. About how it took time to even remember what the hell happened within that bubble he created.

I told her how Executor showed me Sunshine and I at a younger age, and him trying to drown me within the waters we grew up nearby, for reasons I do not know of yet. How he drowned me in a filthy tub until I was barely conscious before pulling me out and throwing me the ground. How I choked on the disgusting water and he thought kicking me in the mid-section would help. And I felt my eyes grow warm with pent up tears at the confusion and how unbearable it was to not be able to remember a fucking thing. About why someone I was close to would betray me, what led to it, what made me survive it. About the boy I couldn't reach in time to save and how much he must hate me for it.

Every minute spent with the Advocate. Every cut made into my skin, every needle under the nail, every bit of plastic thrown back up after he shoved it down my throat. The sheets of ice melting beneath my skin, the beatings, both verbal and physical. The horrible way he spoke so merrily about us in the room together while performing such criminal acts. The nonchalant way he stood next to the table and played with the blood colored ring he wore, right middle finger. How, unlike the Executor, everything I did and everything I said he took with a grin. Sadist. He took everything, like I did, and tried to reuse it. Only difference was, he liked the abuse. I didn't bother trying to adapt to him, only the pain he delivered did I work against.

And Executor... When he cleared the room the day before, had me face down against the metal table and sat on the side of it. Humming quietly and scolding me while he held a lighter up to a knife, my pocket knife which he had sharpened himself just to add insult to injury. And he heated the blade for minutes on end before leaning down and digging it into my bad shoulder. Carving that fucking well known symbol, making sure it would forever be scarred there. Singing quietly "You Are My Sunshine" all the while, knowing how quickly my blood was turning to poison just by listening to it come from him.

Or when he dug too far into my mind... And I saw him. I told her, I saw him, where he was. How I am going to apply that to finding him someday soon, and make him experience all the shit he's caused to so many.

And the mask... The fucking mask I took with me. How they bound my arms and legs and on the mask during my times of sleeping. Squirming to try and wretch it off my face, cursing and swearing and just fucking screaming. The silence with it on was the worse. And Prosper, he just watched.

The escape... I remember being loosely bound and hearing something scrapping across the floor. Peeling open my eyes to see a key, and when I looked to the door I saw no shoes, no one out there. I grabbed the key and tested it on the shackles, one by one they all unlocked. I moved to the door, stumbling some for I had been mostly dragged or carried from room to room. I tested the key upon the door to be surprised it even worked. The place had a master key and I was holding it. I left, 269 wasn't near. I made my way down some halls, no real idea where I was even going. Found 85 and strangled him from behind till he was unconscious, just a kid... He was just some kid. Fifteen? Maybe a little older. Left him there alive, couldn't go through with it. Moved further, found the exit and unlocked it. 269 found me. Mauled me from the side and smacked the crap out of me, threw me against a wall down the hall. Caught his arm, I remember snapping it back behind him, dislocating it, and then breaking the lower portion of his arm. I shoved him into the wall and took off, breaking out of the torture house and running. He kept coming; he kept chasing me until I couldn't see him. Until I was just free.

I spent the week trekking back home, I told her about sleeping in the woods. How He appeared and left when I threatened my own life. Hiding from 269, who has been appointed my new tormenter it would seem. Tuning into you guys when I rested my leg every few hours, or during the night when it was so hard to sleep. Worrying over Mystery's disappearance and then resorting to breaking into houses for food and to clean up while families were out during the day.

Meeting a Doctor who was helpful, if not slightly off. I barely spoke to him but he offered much assistance. Patching up my wounds were the top priority, I wasn't going to take advantage of anything more. But... He went to the kitchen and I told her how all hell broke loose. I went to see what was happening and the Advocate was there, I couldn't see the Doctor but the way that bastard spoke made it sound like he was alive. It was enough, I attacked him. There was surprise in his body language, in his breathing, that I didn't run in my condition. And I told her how he jumped back, grabbed a chair and threw it at me as a diversion before locking himself where the Doctor was. I could hear him killing the man, I tried to break down the door but it wouldn't budge... The noise just fell silent, and the Advocate was laughing about how he wanted to play more games. I told her... I told her I left, and could hear him screaming after me about how we had to talk on continuing our fun.

Then coming home. To them. To just all of this.

My hands were in my lap by the end of it, one leg curled in, bad leg still straight. I tried to keep my hands together, to stop them from their pattern making. I had enough crazy for one day (or almost two weeks), I didn't need to feel like Monk and House had a baby and I was it.

"I thought he was dead. It hurt so badly... All I wanted was you on the ground with that axe impaled into your neck. And you know what the most fucked up thing is about that? I barely even know why I felt that strongly, heh..." I muttered to her as my hands just locked together tightly, shaking lightly. "Then you on the ground... Your face, your scream... Hearing that felt natural. It felt-" I shrugged, a smile faintly touching my lips but I felt like shit and it was nothing close to being happy. "-so natural. I'm not a good person. Trying to do good, but not a good person. How the hell does that work, Mystery? I've studied this, I've learned, observed, years upon years... I know this stuff so well. So why the hell can't I apply it to myself? What the hell made me this way? I don't... I just don't even know who the fuck I am anymore and it's unbearable."

I rubbed my eyes that were growing warm again, swallowing what wanted to leak out. I didn't want to be seen by anyone. I didn't want any attention drawn to this goddamn vulnerability that was beginning to show. No, I didn't want the world to see me. I didn't care if this was natural to be feeling so shitty after what I just experienced. I don't like not being in control, I don't want my body to shake and feel the need to cry. I'd sort it out later. Story told, I used my free hand to wave her on, to tell her own story. I just didn't want to focus on me anymore. I didn't want to think about it right now. I wanted to hear she was alright, that her condition -which looked much better than my own- was not deceiving me into believing otherwise. As long as she was alright I could bear things better and we could move along in the next phase. So I listened as she told me what happened.