Looking Back on Things.

The tears I feel today
I'll wait to shed tomorrow.
Though I'll not sleep this night
Nor find surcease from sorrow.
My eyes must keep their sight;
I dare not be tear-blinded.
I must be free to talk
Not choked with grief, clear-minded.
My mouth cannot betray
The anguish that I know.
Yes, I'll keep my tears till later:
But my grief will never go.
-Anne McCaffrey, Dragonsinger

On top of everything else, one of my favorite authors died this past week. It's funny how someone you've never met can have such an impact on your life, can draw you out of depression and the like. I'll always remember finding one of her books in middle school, and being lost n a world of dragons and firelizards. Books and painting have always been my escape from things. These days, books moreso, for a few reasons, though I still paint and draw. I haven't had anything I've felt worth posting recently in that area, sorry.

Back on subject. If a writer of fiction who I have never met died, and it has impacted me so, how much more does it impact me to have multiple people that I consider friends, no matter for how short a time they were, die? Exponentially.

I'm fine, though. Blake's been a bit... on edge recently, after the incident, and that's understandable. I apologized for the way I was acting, though in my opinion he rather overstated just how... unstable I was at the moment. I don't hold it against him, though. We're all stressed right now, and Tia's worn thin trying to take care of both of us. I really should do what I can to make things easier.

I've never really liked pain meds, to be honest. It's not for the reasons Tia was saying or to make myself some kind of martyr or the like. P'sh... Me, a martyr. That would be a litle silly. They just... make my head feel funny. No matter what kind I take. It's a bit annoying. That and the drowsiness is not my friend at the moment, but at least I don't really dream as much when I'm on pain meds. Small blessings.

I'm sorry for anyone I made worry and anyone I've inconvenienced by my getting hurt. Believe me, I'm not having fun right now, because of it.

...Anyway, I thought that little poem at the start of this was fitting right now. Way too fitting.

We're probably going to be moving on again really soon.

Silence is the Loudest Noise

Everything is going to hell. We all know that. We've seen the blogs. Elaine's. Shaun's. Lucas and Joel's. Others. Some of those people, you know, don't even have lives anymore. Which, to say the least, is heavy. It's a lot to take in since I got back. And since Lissie got back. I was never as close to any of these people as she was... but she's very close to them.

So, you see, she's having a worse time of it than I am. I... understand. I feel bad, but... she's... Lissie's being Lissie. And panicking. And Tia's having the temper her. And make her take her meds.

"Quit trying to wallow in your pain. Just quit it. Everyone's lives are shit right now Lissie. Fine. I know... I know it hurts, but you need to survive. You need to do that for those people. And not taking your pain meds when you're in pain? Is not fucking surviving." And then Lissie mumbles excuses and then Tia insists further and Lissie makes faces.

She took them eventually.

I have to hear these interactions between this woman I love and her irrational, panicked best friend and I worry about the stress levels of these people and it's all wrong. And it's fucking loud. It's quiet now, in the literal sense of the word, but it's so fucking loud and I'm so tired and I can't...

I want to protect, I want to be there for her, but it's hard when she puts herself in this place where she sacrifices her own semblance of sanity for someone else. But that's what I love about her, you know? She's just that sort of person. She'll do that for certain people, take herself to the brink just to keep them from it.

Certain people.

I need more rest. I'm not all right yet. I'm trying. But I'm still vomiting and cold and tired and raw. It's hard to sleep at all. I'd like a little peace.

Sometimes I wonder if we'd never... but then again no. That's Tia. And I would've left her if I didn't love her for being her long ago. I'm sticking it out. I'm... We're. We're going to be just fine, isn't that right?

Where the Heart is

Home is where the heart is right? Guess I'm home again. I'm really, really, very tired. And feel like shit. Vomit again. Sleeping all the time.

Need time to recover.

Don't particularly feel like talking about what happened in the time between Lissie and Tia getting out and me getting left behind.

Not forgotten. Just out of reach.

Shepherd wandered away for a bit... managed to get free, wandered a bit myself. Guess Tia and Lissie had been looking for me, so they found me. And now I'm back.
Still feeling out of it.

Shaun, I was keeping it vague in the hopes that we'd be out of reach for a day, not for a week. I had been hoping he wouldn't find us. I was hoping for a good day. So much for hopes eh?

Currently feeling a little out of touch. I'll maybe give another update when I'm feeling up to it. I don't think we should be staying here longer as a result of my health.

We've got to get going. For the girls' sake.

For Tia's sake...

Lovely

Been puking all night, off and on. A lot of it's blood from my nose.  Wonderful. As I read more of what we've missed in the last week, I'm making myself sick again. Can't help anyone. Shep was right about that. I'm just a useless, pointless, worthless brat of a woman, who only makes matters worse. This is not self-pity. This is a statement of fact.Tia's not going to like seeing that when she wakes up. Oopsie.

We're staying in the truck tonight, and I can't really complain. At least that means We can get away from the smell of sick of need be. Things... I hate being on pain meds. I keep seeing things on the edge of my eyes. And unlike the lovely descriptions said by some, it's not Him. Or not just. Have to ignore it. Focus.

Blake's not dead. This is not me in denial. This is not me saying "if I say it enough times, maybe I'll believe it." He's not dead. But I can't. I can't let this be like Marie. I can't. I've never claimed to be able to help anyone, only claimed a want to do so. I know it's probably a pointless endeavor.

I refuse to stop caring, though. No matter what is tossed at me or us right now, I refuse.

twisting and turning and falling and burning. have to make things right. my fault.

Tendrils Dark are Eating up the Light

Do you know that feeling, like when you don't know where to start a story? Like when you wish it was just a story and nothing real at all? Like when you're stuck thinking 'If this were just a story, it would be much, much easier to tell'? All the jumbles of words can't seem to coordinate themselves into a proper sentence and we're just stuck... staring into the dim light of your computer screen, asking yourself, repeatedly 'Where do I even start?'


That's where I am, right now.


...


So tell me, where do I start this story?


On a roller coaster. I start this story on a roller coaster. I'm going to openly proclaim right now I never want to ride a roller coaster again. I never want to see fair food or hear jingling key chains or see smears of spilled slushie on hot cement. I used to have fond memories of these things. I don't anymore.


Maybe it starts when we got off the roller coaster. When did the people start fading out? I'm not really sure when the park started emptying or the dark started settling in. When did the air go stale and still? I'm not sure where things started going wrong. It seemed like all of a sudden things just weren't what they were before and suddenly we three weren't together anymore.


They like leaving me alone in these places. They like having me run about and look for people in large empty spaces. They like giving my panic attacks because they can. I think in a cruel way, they like making me feel the need to release my lunch everywhere. You know, and then I actually do. It happens. Happened. A bit. Maybe more than a bit. I'm feeling a little prideful about it.


I kept a handle on it though. It wasn't so bad this time you know? No curling in on myself. No falling asleep and thinking 'well this is it'. None of that self-deprecation shit either. It's not my job, according to certain other members of the party.


I didn't sleep much over those days.
Couldn't.
Too full of energy.
Didn't eat much either.
Wasn't hungry.


So I looked. I looked hard and long. And I found what I was looking for, eventually. Blake was on one of those big swinging ships, strapped in, passed out. I had no idea how to operate the thing. It seemed to be operating on this infernal timed loop. Stop. Start. Go go go. Stop. Start. Go.


So I waited. Eventually it stopped again. And then I went and grabbed him quick as I could manage, before it started up again.


So now I had a passed out Blake on the loading dock of this swinging ship, and I'm crying and screaming at him to wake up, because I need him to wake up. I need him to wake up right then.


And by some miracle or magic choice of words, he does. He snaps his eyes open and he's there with me again. The rush of relief right then? Unspeakable.


After a time I manage to get him walking, and it's back to looking. I keep his hand in mine. I never let go.


We found Lissie in the fun house after what felt like a whole nother day of looking. She barely awake in the mirror room. I found her by her manic laughter. It stopped when we got into the room. Turned to a more sick gurgling. All the blood in her throat. It's a miracle she didn't choke on it.


Oh god that was a sight to see.


Zip-ties, curled in on herself, blood under her finger nails (not entirely sure that it was hers), nose a shambles, neck bruised and caked with dried blood, ribs broken - again. When we cut the ties off her, she could hardly stand on her own. We didn't make her.


She guided us out, she knew how to navigate it, someway or another. Maybe it was instincts in this place, maybe she's got a talent? I don't get any of it, but I'm practically dragging the two of them out, Lissie coughing out her guidance.


I still hadn't let go of Blake's hand.


He was right there with us. Right there. Next to me. He felt that first breath of fresh air. That life again. And then he was being dragged from my grip. Dragged. Clawed. He clung. I clung. I reached. He reached back for me. Everything was warped.


A face. There was a face behind him. Or the shape of a face. A warped image of a not-face. Seen it before. I couldn't hurt it. Never could. Couldn't sway it. Couldn't make it's grip on Blake loosen. Me? Just a non-consequential being. Powerless. Everything distorted in that moment. Suffocating. Somehow.


I couldn't pull Blake back. He was out of my grip. Then he was gone.


I'm getting him back. Don't you think for a second that I won't.

We're All Adults Here... Let's Chat.

Trapped. Knees, ankles, arms. Curiously enough, not hands. Crude. Free now. Is it mad to pray for better... hallucinations? Now that I see this place for what it is, it's crude. Like a high schooler stitching together plagarized bits of literature for a report. You barely know what you're doing with this whole thing, do you? You're a child gluing together bits of colored paper in preschool and hoping it makes a picture.

Funny, that. I'm not sure how I can tell, anyway. I see the seams of your stolen bits or "reality" though.
Shepherd, was it? It hurts oh god, it hurts, but now I'm laughing. It's a high, manic sound, and I can barely stop it, even to breathe. You're going to want to hurt me more for that fact, aren't you? You don't strike me as the kind that likes to be laughed at, Shep. Too bad. I rather like laughing, and even if it hurts, I don't see myself stopping for a while.

I'm going to find them, and we're going to get out of this. Maybe I'm a mouse, maybe I'm useless, but I'm learning. And almost nothing you can do will stop that. For better or worse... With the way things are going, I feel sure worse on one level or another. Well, I can think of a few thngs, but no matter.
I'm the weak one, right? I'm the weak one. Go for the weak link. Heh.

Come on, then. Let's talk.

I've been seeing that thing off and on a few times while we've... I've been here. At the moment, I will not dignify it with a name or even a gender. I am tired. I am tired and it is wrong. Forever watching. Wearing things down. Even here, things warp around it, tearing and.... I hope Tia and Blake are okay. At the moment, if they found some way out and left me, I wouldn't hold it against them. But when would I ever?

...Tia won't leave without me, though. Even when maybe she should.

No. Not going to think that way. Not going to think that way. Shep, sweetie, let's have a chat.

Roller Coasters

So Tia loves amusement parks right? She gets a thrill from roller coasters and she loves the park food and the little games where you can win things, plus the little souvenirs. She's got a really soft spot for those little key chains you can get with the little logos from each amusement park. She's got one from Disneyland and California Adventures and Magic Mountain and Universal Studios, and pretty much every other theme park in California too.

Not to mention all the coasters in Las Vegas she's quested to ride, and the trip we took out to Florida just for Legoland. And when we went to Paris? We were at Disneyland Paris before we made it to the Eiffel Tower. She's got a fondness for Amusement Parks. I think I've made my point.

Anyway. She needs to relax a little, and maybe Lissie'd be able to let go a little, so we're taking a break and popping into an amusement park tomorrow. Hopefully Tia'll come back with a new key chain to clip onto her collection and it'll be a nice day off. Not that days 'off' really exist, but a day without driving and relative happiness would be appreciated by all of the party, I'm sure.

We're Out

Sorry Hope people. Sorry everyone, but after yesterday I think it's time we moved on.


I talked with Lissie about it and she agrees.


There's some things we need to move past - literally and figuratively both.


Hope has been a wonderful place for us. We've grown and learned here and we may regret not staying longer later on, or we may not. But it's been plenty a while, it's been fun, and this is a sort of "See you later everyone!"


We'll be back. Or we'll see you all again. Or something.


We'll work it out. Thank you.

No.
Nonononono. He's not here. He's not anywhere.
The man that I feared is dead to me. May he never cross my path. The man that I feared died to me years ago. The man that I feared is dead to me. The man that I loved is all that remains. The beautiful. The positive. The time before I feared him. The man that I feared is dead to me. May he never cross my path.
It's not him, just someone who looks like him. It has to be. Logic.
Fuck.

To Conclude

A genius with electronics had arrived at Hope when I was looking through the Helikite, whose name I later found was Alex, one of Elaine's rescues. He's a real wiz though. Found a camera on the kite, and it would've taken me twice as much time to decode all that nonsense that was on it. Little thing tried to crash my built like a solid block of concrete laptop.

That was cute.

Not to worry though, we managed to figure out the files and see what all was captured. It was interesting to unlock and everything, but I really didn't care for what we found on it. And I don't think that needs much more clarification.

It's in Elaine's hands, and she's capable enough to take care of it. So we're going back to normal socializing and such here for a while.

Tia's invaded Lissie's for a bit, after Marie's post this morning she wasn't feeling so hot. I'm going back to working from home now and finishing this program I had on hold whilst I finished the camera project.

So that's pretty much it.

Oh, and tomorrow Tia and I have 3 years behind us. So there's something special I have planned. Should be fun.

Good morning, sweeties

And your unmatched taste in people to care for continues to serve you so well, Elisa.
You make me sick.
People "love" you?
Love you?
You who abandons people and breaks promises?
You who doesn't even believe you deserve notice, much less love?
Oh yes, I remember those talks, Elisa.
What did you do to make dear Michael slip?
Why was 'he' thanking you, darling?
Oh, I imagine you'll say it's none of my business, of course.
But you've stopped replying to my emails, and I just had to check on you.
After all, I'm your responsibility, right?
Ha.
If that's what makes you feel like you're any better than me or anyone else.
Oh, and Tia?
That post was fucking saccharine.
Not your drunk little fuck-up, but that was amusing in itself.
As was the thought of the two of you mugging someone.
Don't worry, Blake, I feel sure things are going to be just dandy.

Agh, people

Okay, we've had people at Hope all along, but it oddly feels more... full at the moment. Or maybe it's just my head. I don't know. August and Doc arrived yesterday, and today, Elaine and Shaun got back with the kids that they and Konaa went after. Not that I mind. I'll probably just hermit myself away again for a bit.

I'm glad they were able to get at least some of the kids away from there.

There was also a slight incident yesterday, before Doc and August showed up. A... guy with a kite with recording equipment attached to it. Tia and I dealt with it handily, with some support from Lucas. Guy claimed to be a student studying meteorology for college. We confiscated his equipment. I did rather try to be polite and diplomatic, but he freaked.  Well, people can fuss as much as they like, but in this case, I freaking love private property laws in Texas.

Blake's taking a look at the equpiment from the kite, and will probably take it to someone who knows more about the device that it's supposed to be. He does say it looks rather patched together, though, so we're doubting it's a piece belonging to any professor.

All in all, at things weren't exactly boring while Elaine and Shaun were gone, but they weren't bad, either.

An Open Address to all Lissies

It's 6:31. Your 24 hours are up. Hopefully the positive attitude will continue anyway.


You're a brat.


You're also a sweetheart.


People love you.


You'll learn to live with it.


Maybe you'll even think you deserve it someday too.


<3

Dance, Fucker Dance.

It was a good night. And then it wasn't.


Shoulda stuck to drink'n lone. I didna know... bout... bout things. Not my place to say. M'sorry everybody. I did a bad thing.


And it all started cause a stupid anger. Stupid, stupid anger.



FUCK YOU
AND FUCK YOU
AND ESPECUA-
fuck that word righ now.
FUCK YOU A LOT.


Yea, you, you get a lot of fuck yous in the face. You know how many times... how many times making Lissie cry is too many? NO? Let me make it abundentally clear that you crossed that line fucker.


I am not happy bout it. Nosirree.


...olordy Lissie'll read thisinthemorniggg...


fuck it. ss'allready mornin.


m'really, really sorry.

Nostalgia dump-friendship

Past.
It's funny when you think of first meetings. I talk so much about friends, about Tia. Tia's my best friend. She's the only one who would have me for years. She'd deny that. She'd reflect the words back at me, but it's true.

Halfway into Sophomore year. Nearly a year after the incident which shattered my life. The skinny bastard, I hear you say?
No.

Just general, life sometimes falls apart, screwed up-ness. It's funny how your peers treat you when your mother runs your father out of the house at gunpoint, he leaves town, and nobody explains why. It's funny what assumptions are made when you have a sudden shift of personality. It's funny how things change when you let yourself be a victim.

I let myself be a victim.

Nearly halfway into Sophomore year in a mid-sized town in southern Alabama, I was alone as I'd never been alone before. I was scared of the world. Why? Because people exploit weakness. Especially teenagers.

I was getting picked on. Again. Messed with. Again. Pushed around. Again. People exploit weakness.

There was a new girl at school that day. On her first day, she stepped in and defended me. With words and with fists. I was in shock. Funny, that. Someone standing up for me surprised me more than the torment itself. Only a year ago, I would have been able to deal for myself. Funny how people let you fall when you break. When your situation is no longer viable for what they see as the requirements for their friendship.

She got sent home, of course.

As did I, even though all I'd done was sit there on the floor and let people do what they would. Funny how that works. Funny how in this world we are in, in the schools, the victim and defender are punished just as much as the aggressor. Well, possibly not just as much. I'm not here to talk about the state of the public education system, though. We'll save that for another day.

Of course, I had to go back the next day. Of course.

Doodled my way through classes, answered questions they thought I wasn't paying attention to. The usual. Tried to ignore people in the hall. Things slipped into my locker. The usual. The lunchroom. Sitting alone again as always. The usual.

Or not. This girl comes over to my table and just sort of sits down. I watched her for a long moment over the top of my book. Of course it was the chick from the day before. Of course. That's not embarrassing in the least, some random stranger deciding to step in on your daily session of being bullied.

She was new in town. On edge, especially after the day before.  All I got from her that first day is that her name was Tia, and her dad had gotten transferred to the Army base near town. I apologized for the day before, of course. (I always apologize) She just frowned at me for that.

She didn't necessarily want to make friends at first. Said her family moved too much, anyway. Somehow I managed to worm my way past that, though. She needed a friend. She was angry, bitter, and far too used to leaving people behind. And well, at that point, my pickings were slim. Besides the fact that she ended up having my back in later incidents as well. Honestly, I said it back then, and I'll say it now. I appreciate the sentiment of threatening someone for my sake, but it's not worth that.

She became one of the best people I've had in my life. More than I would dare to ask for. Tia could do much better than some broken little... mouse for a friend. I was rebuilding, though. I always rebuild.

We were friends for two and a half years before she moved. He father got transferred again. All the way across the country. She got distant again when she found out. After all, we had promised to be there for each other. We had promised no to let the other get hurt. That we would see each other happy.  And we both so hate to break promises. We talked. We decided to finish out the year like nothing was going wrong. We would stay in touch. I was stubborn about that. I couldn't lose another friend after Jared killed himself.

People don't always leave. People don't always abandon you. I repeated these words to her more than once in those last few months.

And we did stay in touch. Life went on. Things changes, we lost people. We gained people. We were there for each other through our highs and lows. Whether over the phone or over the internet.

Hell, this is the person who, when all of this started just some months ago, picked up and drove to Alabama from California simply because she was worried about me. Because she wanted to protect me.

People look at us and see what they want to see. A tall, strong, independent-seeming, gorgeous woman and a small, fragile, shy, dependent-seeming, cute girl.  There's so much more there. So much more than what's on the outer layer of things. So much more than what someone might see as possessiveness. So much more than the shaky attempts to drive us apart. You do not know the half of it, even with this post. And you probably never will.

Back

And I'm not feeling overly creative about titles right now. Mostly, I'm just tired.

I got to come back to Hope yesterday, and yes I was 'delivered' by the proper time. I have no idea why. I don't really remember all of what happened... And I've no idea why I was even held either. I really... there's not much to say about it.

There's this bruising on my back and Tia can't figure out what caused it, and we've discovered about 4 broken ribs which have only been aggravated by the vomiting I've been doing. My wrists are messed up. Tia thinks they're going to scar.

I remember zip ties being involved. And flashes of things. A concrete room somewhere, searing heat, the stench of sweat, a flash of clean-cut brown hair and a pair of glasses, a smooth voice that said things I don't remember. The things I recall are all disjointed. "You care - so silly - broken - won't you eat - damn fool - miss your Sparrow - Fine." Pain is the most prevalent memory. That's pretty much all I have. I don't know where I was or what he looked like or anything useful of the sort.

Maybe I shut down? Maybe that's why I got 'boring' for the Shepherd? I can't really tell you, to be honest.

What I do know is I'm back with Tia. And I'm able to sleep in a bed and eat properly - and that's even better when the food decides to actually stay down. I couldn't be more grateful. I'm going to take it easy for a while. Back to sleep with me.

Fine. Fine.

Fuck. You. Sheperd. Give him back. Givehimbackrightnow.


You son of a goddamn bitch. You give him back or I swear I will find you and break your little neck in half. First though, first I will make you regret ever coming near him. I will break so much of you and make you feel humiliated and angry and vengeful and incredibly goddamn stupid for messing with my man.


I'm not giving up here on my end, and I know he's not going to give into your little games either. I know him better than to think that he'd break just because you think you can break him.


Because you think you can break us. Fuck you Sheperd. He better be here at Hope before 4 PM or I swear, I will find you. Don't even think I'm joking.


Now I know he didn't just go. Now I know he's being held. And I will not tolerate your bullshit. I will not.


Also, we want Lissie's truck back. And if you tail him back to Hope, I will know. I will find you, and I will break you. I will break you harder than you could ever possibly imagine one girl could manage with only her hands.


That's the deal. 4 PM.

Patience is a Virtue

Elaine went out looking, as did a few others, apparently, and thank you all. But... there's still no sign of Blake. I'm not saying the panic's growing, but... it is.


I really wish I knew where he was... but I don't at the same time. I just hope he's okay. And I'm still... confident he hasn't up and left. Just it doesn't read like that. And he wouldn't just leave me. They don't all leave eventually, and I know that, as much as my head says otherwise.


There's this sinking feeling I'm getting and it makes me want to look, but I don't want him coming back and me not being here, so I'll wait patiently. And keep myself together in one pretty piece. It wouldn't do to fall apart would it?


And I'm at Hope. I'm holding onto what I have of my own hope.

Isolophobia

I... am not going to panic. I am not going to panic.


I am not going let my abandonment issues and fears of being alone cause any accelerated heart palpitations, trembles, dizziness, nausea, or anything else like that. Lissie's here. And I will be rational.


Blake... is not home right now. This would not... normally be an issue. We encourage each other to go out, take time to ourselves, hang out with people not each other. Long term relationships get tiresome and sometimes we need different people or just ourselves. That's fine. It's encouraged. It's well needed.


The problem? Blake left Hope 16.5 hours ago. No one else in the house has seen him since. Now, that's fine, considering he told me he'd be going out. He said he was going to go into town and get away from the laptop for a bit. Maybe hit a cafe or something. I was glad he was getting out. I was happy to hear he'd be breaking his routine. He said he'd pick me up some gardening essentials from the shop on his way back to Hope.


I know why he went out. In two weeks it's our 3 year anniversary. I know why he didn't want me to come with him. It's not that it wasn't obvious. It was. But he plays the excuse game well, and I play along.


But he said he'd be home in time for dinner.


He's not.


You know how often Blake misses dinner? As often as I miss my morning work out. It happens about once a month. He missed breakfast too. Bed's untouched. He's just not home.


I'm worried. I'm not going to lie, I'm scared sick. And I want him back. So I'm going to hang out with Lis, keep my panic and trust issues at bay, and I'll see him when he gets back. Because he'll be back. It's still early, and he'll be back. There's no other option. That's all there is to it.