Monday, January 30, 2012

If you're going through hell, just keep moving

 We've got a kid sleeping in out hotel bathtub. Well, not a kid, a teenager. Okay, let me backtrack a little bit.

We ended up heading southeast a bit, I think? Okay, I'm honestly so bad with directions. But that's beside the point. We were out shopping today, getting some groceries, essentials, mostly. Eating fast food can only go so far, especially with my making myself sick with stress half the time and Tia well, needing actual food. So we got food.

All nice and you know, not that strange. We were actually having a bit of fun, chatting, all that nice stuff. Things have been... nice between Tia and I recently. Yeah, nice. Hee. Umn, no creepy notes have been showing up, no anything. I've been reading through Marie's notes again, but that's stuff for another time. Anyway.

We were driving back to the hotel, and suddenly about halfway there, there's this... grayness. I mean, I feel sure the colors weren't actually bleeding away and fleeing from that... wrongness. From what I can tell, Tia didn't really see it that way. It's weird, how these things happen, it's like this warping of the fabric of things, the fleeing of normalcy. But yeah, that's when we heard it.

We followed the sounds, and there's this kid, curled up, praying, looking like shit at the end of the street. Things are eerily quiet other than that, empty. Hate it when things get like that. It's just wrong. Well, a lot of this is wrong, but back on the subject. Zie's just a-praying. And there He is, standing over the kid, all this rippling around Him, looking like a squid orgy, the sound of...tearing, and then gone. Like He was never there, the colors are back, the sounds after a few minutes. Well, other than the fact that we now have a really screwed-over teen on our hands.

We snagged zer and bolted for the car after checking for broken bones. It hurt thoguh, I could tell that much, considering the outright scream when we first touched zer. Surprisingly, there were none, just these... burns on the chest and back, fairly extensive. They're all black and gross, but I'm tending to them as best I can now that we're back at the hotel. I wanted to go to the hospital, but zie was vociferous about negating that idea. Zie calmed down quick enough, but there's this tenseness there, which is understandable, really. Two strange chicks pop out of nowhere. Got the kid to give me a name, at least. Kailin. That and the fact that I was apparently to use gender-neutral terms once zie noticed I was writing a bit.

Skinny, skinny kid, about fifteen or sixteen, if I had to guess, long black hair, darkish skin, big brown eyes. Obviously been on a good few miles of hard road. We got Kailin cleaned up and I've been tending to zer a bit. Talking a little, abut me and Tia... Talking to Tia.

She was slightly reluctant at first to pull Kailin into our little fold despite being concerned, but I'm not going to abandon zer, not like this, not in this state. So... She's trusting my judgement on this, though she says it's sort of probationary (I'm paraphrasing, but she cussed and I'm not in the mood to do that.)

We decided since it's a one-bed hotel room, once the tub was scrubbed out, that would most likely be better than the floor. I dragged my pillows out of the truck and into the room, and called for some extra blankets, and we padded the tub up into a pallet. So there we are at the moment. It's time to do what I can, at least.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

One Foot in Front of the Other

I have two points to make. Or address. Or whatever. One is more of a story. The second thing just... needs to be said. For formalities sake.

First thing's first, let's address visiting California. Under circumstances that are just... not pleasant enough to warrant a happy week.

Blake's mom... is probably the sweetest little woman ever. Standing at not over 4'11", shaped like a pear, mouse-brown hair that stands on end no matter the weather or how she attempts to put it all together... she's just incapable of putting it together anyway but frizzy.

Utterly adorable with a personality to match.

And three baby brothers. All idolizing him. All with matching sets of locks like their mothers. Blaise was always the odd-blond-out. But he loved them so very deeply.

I had to... give them some sort of closure. Blake hadn't called in weeks. And hardly a word before Christmas. I knew. I knew he wasn't all right. His family knew he wasn't all right. What little communication was so... garbled... so twisted. I don't know what they thought.

So I told them... a lie. A bald-faced lie.

I told them we had an argument on the road and there were tears and we had parted ways for a night. I had thought it was just a night, that we just needed some separation, but he didn't come back in the morning. I told the lie until I started to believe it. I started to believe I had no idea what had happened to him from there. I started to believe that we had looked for him for weeks. I believed it entirely by the time I was in tears and... I had to tell them that I didn't think I'd ever see him again. Because I won't. It's impossible.

I told them I didn't know he would react so badly, and I didn't know what he was doing, and if he would ever come home. Even though I know he never will. He can't. And it's my fault. I tried to console the boys. I hugged when it was appropriate. I cried when it was inappropriate.

I played a good part. They had us in for dinner. We were emotional and apologetic. The topic finally changed though. Something insignificant. We left before dark and were out of state again before dawn. I'm going to keep this far and away from them.

And now I've no idea where we'll end up. Maybe the midwest. I like the snow even if Lissie claims it's nothing but mischief.


Part two, the oddly hard part of this post...

I'm pregnant. I'm keeping my baby. And I'm going to fight for my little. Don't be mistaken. These are not the circumstances I want to be in for raising a child. I'd rather not be running for dear life with the father who I once loved dead.

But I'm keeping the baby anyway.

I think I can raise a child right. And so I'm going to let myself try.

Saturday, January 21, 2012


Things are never simple, huh? I'm sitting out here in the truck, waiting for Tia to come back out. We're at Blake's parents' place at the moment. She's inside...

Maybe not the safest move, but I'd let something slip. It's at least partially my fault, after all. I'f i'd just gotten theere sooner. If I'd just said something sooner. If. If. If.

Maybe it's arrogant to think I could've made a difference, but maybe I could've or maybe I'd have just made things worse, just like other times. It seems to happen more often than not, but... I could've done something, even if was wrong.

It keeps happening. How long until it's Tia's body?

No. Not going to think that way. But yeah, like I said, we decided that... Even though it's not the safest, I should probably stay outside. That whole "chronic inability to lie" thing might be a probelm in this. Heh...  Probably a reasonable precaution, even if I've already been in a staring contest, of sorts. Come on, Tia... Hurry up.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Some 'Splainin to Do

(it seemed appropriate, with Konaa's return.)
It's been a week. Okay, more than a week now. A week and a half. Had to squeeze in time to see a doctor after the test and hope I was... fooling myself. Panic attacks can do great changeful things to a woman's body.

Unfortunately this is not one of those times. Unfortunately, now, I have a decision to make. Unfortunately I have a lot to think about on the matter. Reasons to keep the unknown parasite, reasons not to keep it. Factors that can't be let go so simply. I don't know if I'm determined enough right now...

But it would give me plenty of reasons to keep going. To persevere. And Lissie would be here with me. That much is nice to think about.

I haven't made a decision yet. Don't make this about the rights and wrongs of woman and her body and the things she may or may not chose to carry within it. I haven't made my decision, so it's not the time to hatefully discuss hateful matters.

After I've made up my mind, I'll let you all trample me with all that. For now, I've all the reasons in the world to not care about the moral blasphemies.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Dreams, Dreaming, Dreamt

First, no, there hasn't been a test yet. Not enough time to be sure of accuracy, if the timing's what I'm pretty sure it is. Lovely.

Yeah, I've been dreaming again, and painting and drawing. Ya'll don't get to see those right now, though. My camera broke, and honestly, there are some things that don't bear seeing. Believe me, these don't.

Dreaming is always strange, yeah? Shadows on he horizon, becoming more distinct. But then, there's always been shadows on the horizon, they're just getting closer. Shadows have faces. Maybe it was easier when I couldn't identify the faces. Maybe it was easier when I didn't dream of people I've met and people I've never met dying or not dying. It's layered. Mutable. Things are changeable.

Sitting in a room as a teenager, talking to Doctor Sanchez. There's someone else there. I can't... I can't see. That's the weird part, because I always see, and I always remember. But this time, all I can tell is there's another person. It's like there's a gap in the dream, a place where the colors don't flow. 

There are always colors, especially in dreams. It's weird, I know. Colors and imagey sorts of things, feelings. It's usually not a big thing, not worth mentioning, I guess it's a form of synesthesia, though it's been getting worse over the last few months. Especially when I'm on pain meds, it's not just distracting little things in the corner of my eye. That's part of why I've been trying to wean myself off of meds earlier than I "should" every time I get hurt. Maybe I'm hallucinating. Maybe I'm nutso. Well... That last part was a given.

Shadows. A teenager, hurt.Have to help. Can't... Can't tell a lot of things, but I hate this kind of dream. Where you're standing there, frozen, and you have to watch someone hurt or die. Can't change it... But you have to. Can't even tell if it's a boy or a girl. Dark hair, dark eyes. Two people in one shell. Fire... Ugh. I have to... Things can be changed.


Sunday, January 8, 2012

Thursday, January 5, 2012

A Note

Shaun left on Monday. We were sad to see him go, but I get that he feels he needs the space. Email me or call any time, man. We're moving on again.

Tia's still pretty quiet, but despite Sheppy-boy's post, she's a little better. Smiling a little easier.

Not that anyone's going to read this or even gives a care what I have to say, but since it's apparently International Jump on Elaine Logan's Case Week (Or so)
(Paraphrased from an email I sent her in response to all of this)
1.Elaine has never been anything but kind to me. That's got to count for something, because I'm not the most social sort. a
2. She does try to have at least some people's best interest in mind (though rarely fully her own) which is more than I can say for many of the people I've read about in these situations, much less met.
3. Yes, she has her rough edges, and can be, as some might say, a "bitch" to outsiders, to the people she does let in, she can be one of the most caring, loving, loyal (many might say stupidly so) people I have ever met.
4. She is trying to atone for her past. That is one of the of the hugest things to me. She wants to make things better, and she acts on it rather than sitting around with her thumb up hrr butt. She knows that she will never find personal retribution, and so she does what you can to fight for what you can grasp, what she can do to help others.
5.Yes, she screwed up and made bad decisions. She screwed up big time, she has hurt others, many others, but she is trying to fight past that. Maybe people will eventually try to forgive her or convince her that they do, but she's not going to forgive herself. She's beating herself up over things plenty without any help.

I could also go into the subject of bullies who kick people when they're down, but honestly, Gargoyle's not worth the time or energy.

None of us are perfect, so what right have we to judge, anyway?

Monday, January 2, 2012

Freezing Hands and Bloodless Veins

He had you in his grasp, it was all he ever wanted, and he gave you up again. We all know your side of the story; you left him because you had to, not because you wanted to. You and Darling Elisa moved on because it was safer that way. You see, there was too much outer influence on Blakeykins, and you know Sweetling, that was just too risky. Sometimes you've got to make selfish decisions. But what about his side of the story? I'm sure you've wondered...

Oh, the boy would've done anything for you, can't you see that Sweet? Can't you see? He held you so close there in the end, not because you were leaving him, or because those were the last moments you had together, but because all he had in him was love for you.

I have to wonder, what is it to be loved that much? Is it suffocating? Does it feel like you're drowning? Was it beautiful? Oh Sweet, I am so curious. All he ever had on his mind was you; there must be some redeeming qualities.

Enough babbling, I have a story to tell. He took you. He took you and Darling Elisa's truck (adorable little heroine that she is) and drove away, far and fast and away, and he kept you. He had you all a pretty on his bed, and you had nowhere to go. It was dark and scary and a little bit damp in that basement. See, he had to keep you safe. He had to keep you from me, and the faceless one. Oh dear, silly boy, he didn't know just how much influence we could leave on a man with so deep a love. To be entirely honest, neither had I, but I was made nice and aware of the fact.

He talked in long sentences about commitment and fear and loss and loneliness and cold, cold hands on his face. Hurts, loneliness, cold, fear. Who took advantage of who, I wonder? He talked of darker, scarier places than where he had you, and freezing breath and hardly feeling at all. He talked about abandonment. It was the first time he'd told you any of it, even if at least some of it had happened before you left him. Where were you, I wonder? He talked about how allying yourself with the proper enemies could keep you safe. Or safer. Some delusions are just delusions. He talked about Elisa in the greenest tone I have ever heard.

Oh jealousy, you are such a vicious mistress.

He talked for a long, long time. He'd forgotten to eat or drink or bathe in his excitement at your presence. He'd forgotten that you need to eat or drink or bathe or piss or... well, you get the idea. He moved too close and you shied away. He put his arms around you to hold you like he used to hold you, to embrace you as he always had, and your fear showed in shivers and sobs. He just wanted to love you, and you did nothing but try to run. You tried to run to the outside. Where you could have been hurt or abandoned or betrayed; where it's harder to survive.

Finally, he seemed to break entirely. It seemed the betrayal had finally sunk in. It became apparent that you did not love him anymore. It seemed he finally noticed. His affectionate tone, his protective stance changed in mere moments. You had to act quickly, because all of a sudden there was a knife in his hand and he's coming at you. You were scrambling to find something to defend yourself with. A board, a stick, a loose tile, a lamp. Anything. You came across a gun. It's not what you wanted to come across, but it was what fell into your hands. How did it end up there anyway? It's almost as though someone simply handed it to you.

Normally you're more rational than this in a fight. Normally you think about your opponent's motives and movements and patterns and weaknesses. It's what anyone with a lick of training does, but you've had a moment of weakness. This is the one of the few people you'd never dreamed of fighting, and let's not forget your waning physical state. You honestly didn't know if you could land a punch, let alone pull that trigger your finger kept brushing across. Your grip had never been so shaky, and it's not until he'd stabbed you that you were reacting. You fired that weapon blindly, in a struggle to survive.

He gasped, his hands covered in your blood, and he smiled. He smiled because he felt that sweet release. He couldn't ask for it. No, you see, he had to play it the hard way. You couldn't know that was the clearest thought he had in over two months. You couldn't know that the moment you fired that gun he was asking for it. He came at you with all the intent to kill you in his eyes. You didn't realize that stab wound was harmless until long after whatever was left of him was gone. He made it about you babe, in the end that's all he was about: you.

He had realized that he would be the one to kill you and end all those precious details you cherish in your day to day life, including Darling Elisa. And you do love her so, don't you? How quickly you've moved on. The only option, to protect you, Sweetling, was to have you end him. You had to stop his heinous devolution. And really it could only have been you, otherwise it wouldn't have been fair to him. You haven't been fair to him in such a long, long time have you? Oh Sweetling, Sparrow, you dear heart you, his last action was his most selfless one.

Funny how things like that work out isn't it?

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Happy New Year

They say to do the thing on New Years that you want to do for the rest of the year.  I refuse to regret this.

 We can do no great things; only small things with great love... Let's make this year one worth living, and hold onto the kind of courage that is not all-encompassing, but which gets you along from minute to minute.