...Sorry. Again.

Note to self: Stop posting things directly after waking up and while meds are no longer in your system. It ends badly.

I...I'm doing better. I'm sorry for the post earlier. Really, terribly sorry. To explain a bit more, I was talking about my mother. As I've said before, she died in a car wreck on the way home from work. She was a nurse, however pointless that fact is. All the reports of her death and all of the police reports claimed it was a hit and run. They said a drunk driver hit her, ran her off the road, she was torn from the car when it flipped and sustained severe internal injuries. I'm not sure what to believe anymore.

I dreamed again last night. I dreamed that I was watching my mother at work, a child had come in with a burn on his torso in the shape of an elongated hand that trailed all the way up to his neck. A symbol carved into his chest. She made calls, did everything she could for the kid.

I wasn't there, but I was there. The crying parents, the empty look in the child's eyes.  Broken. She saw it, too. She was nervous. She didn't know. She didn't see why she was nervous, but she knew it was wrong.

Then we were in the car. Driving, heading home. She was singing along with the radio, as always, keeping an eye out for deer. And then I heard it. Static. The sound warping and tearing and the world denying this presence that was there. A figure in the road. Why is it always in the road? She tried to stop. She didn't know what she was seeing. I hope.

And suddenly, there were black tendrils cutting through the windshield like it was water breaking it oh so easily, tearing her from the still-running car, and shoving it aside and off of the road like some kind of toy. The screaming. She was screaming, why didn't anyone see or hear? You'd think, you'd think. you'd think... I saw. The world was warping.

...It's funny in a morbid way. They said there were very few external injuries. There should have been. So much blood slickign the pavement. There should have been more visible injuries.

She had done nothing but try to help a child. She had done nothing to deserve this. She saved me from my own father. She saved me from myself.

Maybe if I say this was just a dream enough times, I'll actually believe it. Maybe I'll stop puking and maybe I'll stop seeing her stricken, panicked face every time I close my eyes. Maybes are fun things, huh?

Tia and Blake have barely left my side since earlier...

The world is getting weirder. Darker every single day. Things are spinning around faster and faster, and threatening to go completely awry. Falcons and falconers. The center cannot hold.

It's spreading.