Things... All These Things...

Marie- Deceased. Unknown circumstances. Last seen in the company of a man who goes by the alias "Shepherd". "Shepherd" denies involvement in her death. Called it "a waste". Later notes revealed her family to be involved in some form of conspiracy. None of the relevant people are alive now, other than Jared. Sacrifice, Bitter Fruit, Poison Thorn

Blake- Deceased. Shot with a .38, hollowpoint. Multiple shots to the stomach and chest. Last in the company of Tia. Had developed paranoia and delusions that he was the only one capable of keeping her safe. "Safe", in this case meant holding her captive in a basement. Body missing. Taken by the Tall One. Lover, Twisted Heart, Betrayer

Tia- Missing. Presumed Deceased. Last seen in the company of Lis. Supporting her as they got us away from one of the anomalies that has trapped those who have been documenting events on this blog in previous accounts. Had cut herself off from all but this small group. Grew more and more protective of Lis and the rest of us over the last few months, but especially Lis. After the abduction a month ago, as well as other incidents, she barely let her out of her sight. The tendrils were encroaching. Champion, Sparrow, Protector, Mother

Lis- Missing. Presumed Deceased. Last seen in the company of Tia. Mostly unconscious, and emanating a "light" to the way out of the anomalous location. Possible hallucination due to the nature of said location. She and Tia sacrificed themselves to get us out. Had been suffering increased amounts of weakness due to physical wasting, despite preventative efforts. Also had started to suffer from an increase in her "synesthesia" in ways that fall outside of the definition of such, after the incident with the sensory deprivation tank a month ago. Bloodstained Handmaiden, Heroine, Dreamer, Hummingbird, Delphi

Jared- Living. Injured. Whereabouts unknown beyond a note saying he'd "keep in touch" and that "there's always a light, she showed us that. Bloodstained or not. What she did was a final 'fuck you' to those who would have used her and used Tia against her. Especially after all that's happened over the last few months. They'll be watching you still, remember that, kid. I know you're not going to want me around after this. You're not the type. It was the girls who were keeping that from being an issue. You can take care of yourself. Even if it means lying low, that's probably a better option than my modus operandi. Take care of yourself, okay? For them, if not for you." Toppled Knight, Rusted Armor, Hidden Face

Kailin- Living. Increasingly cynical. The desire to be alone and disconnect grows stronger. For now, it may be the best to go alone against the Tall One. Raven, Butterfly, Changeling

...I don't know what to do anymore. I don't belong here anymore. It's getting colder. It's time to move on. No more mum's and no more lecherous flirts. This internet thing is too risky, too hard. And I'm thinking bonding is just the thing I shouldn't do anymore.

Lis. Tia. They were too good for these things. I'm the sort of scum that gets it. Alone is better.

I Don't Think You All Quite Understood Me

I said these women are optimistic and saccharine. I meant... exactly that. They were expecting things to go wrong, I don't think they were expecting things to go this wrong. Or if they had accounted for this margin of error... then they were expecting to get out of it. To get lucky.

We don't get lucky in this little world of ours.

We just don't. We get the odds stacked against us and have to make due with that. We have to deal with tumbling issues and dying friends and aching deep sadnesses as we watch them fade into their end. As we contemplate if we caused this, if it's all our fault. (What am I saying? It's always my fault.)

Tia's still not talking. She's sad and scared and a little broken. I, personally, think we need to stop to visit a spirit healer on our way out and while Lis is up for anything and everything, Tia's a skeptic. It's also too fresh to heal. She wants to feel the ache more. But if anything, I know that we need to heal quickly or shit will never get done.

Experience is a bitch. Then you die?

Is that even a remotely appropriate statement?

I think I'm just going to go... I've got more to say... but not right now. Not at all right now.

Wheelchairs are evil.

Seriously, have you ever noticed how often wheelchairs show up when something not quite "right" is about to happen? Wheelchairs are probably secretly planning the demise of us all. I won't be surprised if this is true, even if they are inanimate objects.

I should clarify a little, I guess. Maybe they fit some symbolic niche within the collective unconscious human mind. Helplessness? Maybe, though I know at least some people confined to wheelchairs would protest that. Probably pretty vehemently.

Anyway, Tia woke up.  Almost amusingly, that's when things went to hell. There was a shift to the air as the colors started to fade. What day was it? What day is it? The last time I checked the calendar, it was the ninth or tenth, I think. The days have been running together here, even with everything.

Right, back on topic. It's always disturbing to me when the colors go. I don't think most people quite get what I mean by that, not really. Imagine that you spend your life at least partially in a vivid swirl of things, shifting in the back of your mind, in the back of your eyes. No, that's not right. I... Have a hard time describing it with just words. These times, though... Everything is just gray. Maybe not literally, but that's how it seems to me. I think it's hard for people to grasp how much that shakes me.

Things are thrown into such stark relief. The scratches on the baseboard. Patterns incomprehensible. Hello there, writing on the wall. No, I don't want to impart your words of wisdom to the dear readers, what there are of them. I will anyway.

It may seem a strange principle to enunciate as the very first requirement in a hospital that it should do the sick no harm.

Someone has a sick sense of humor. No pun intended.

But Tia's awake. That counts for something, right? I sound so... hollow. For once, in this, we're together. Kailin's still at the bedside, something having snapped zer out of a doze in the chair. Pity, really, zie hasn't been sleeping much at all. Those dark eyes are locked on the door, though. Tia's awake, but god, she looks so pale.

There's a squeaking sound from the hall, and that's what triggered the thoughts on wheelchairs. The hospital didn't have any squeaky-rusty ones that I know of, though. But then, that assumes that this is anything normal. Even the squeaking is gray.

I don't want to go look. But you know me... I ran toward the screams, not away. Sometimes you have to.

Hospital smell

Yeah, I've been painting still. It helps me stay calm. Kailin's chilled out a little. We can't leave right now, and it's been enough trouble as it is to convince the staff that they shouldn't just kick me and Kailin out, because we're "not family".

...It's incredibly awkward to play the "I'm her girlfriend" card sometimes, even if it's true. Especially when you're not sure how people will react.

Tia's still in and out. There's very little coherency to her right now, and the doctors... There's something they're not saying at the moment. Still. I hate when people hide things.

I've honestly never been so... unnerved by a hospital, though. Maybe it's because of recent events. Maybe it's because I feel like I'm constantly being watched when I'm in the halls. Maybe it's because of that little girl I saw in the ER waiting room the other night with the dead, calculating eyes and the miswrought smile as her "father" fawned over her. Maybe it's the scratchings I see along the baseboards from the corner of my eye that aren't there when I look straight on.

Or maybe that's just the lack of sleep talking and those were all waking-dreams. Kailin went to talk to... someone in the cafeteria last night. I know that much. Zie's not telling who it was at the moment,but I have a suspiscion.

...I'm going to try to get a nap. I have to, or I'll be even more useless than usual.

Just Under the Weather...

Right. Just a little less then pretty. Of course. Everything's recoverable. We can make it through this shit. Of course we can. We always do. Nothing's really wrong so long as we don't acknowledge that anything's really wrong.

...The mums' are the worst understaters of the goddamn century. Everyone should know that. If you were unaware, please make yourself aware now.

I knew we were too quiet. I knew that It was closing in. That thing. That thing that brings down both the flood and the flame. It's been watching too long. Too long. And they were being too happy, thinking about the baby and names for Her. Because now we know. We know it's a she.

Cecelia. That's the name I'm voting for.

...I'm trying to be optimistic. I'm trying to let the mums' positive attitude rub off on me. I'm trying to learn new tricks. I'm not even close to old yet.

But it's not working.

We have to get out of this hospital. Tia's stuck. The doctors won't let her leave. There are complications. We're stuck hoping they'll work themselves out. And Tia's having fits.

She sees It. I see It. Lis feels It. It's everywhere. We have to go. Go before It takes something precious. I need a friend. But I haven't got a friend in the world I could call on.

A Bad Case of the Restless

The mums are... sorta really optimistic. I'm just going to let you all know right here: this is Me. I am not an optimist. And no, I'm not a realist either. I'm one helluva down-in-the-dumps pessimist. I think shit's going to fall to shit even when it's all going alright, because usually... that's right when it all falls to hell in the worst way.

But the mums aren't of that blood. They think better of the world and people and still have some tiny faith in circumstance. I guess maybe it's because they have each other. It's all saccharine like that.

M'gonna get diabetes or some shit travelling with these women. Not. Even. Kidding.

But unfortunately being a pessimist also means that I see the things hat my optimistic friends won't see sometimes. Like I know they pick up on shit that I miss entirely.

But there's something not comfortable and slimy and disgusting closing in. It's familiar. I know it. It stinks. No matter how fast we move. It follows. It closes in. The mums wouldn't like me talking or typing or whatevering like this. It's not a good attitude to keep.

But the paint-splattered mum's been Dreaming. She hasn't posted about it yet, she thinks you all will think she's nutters or mad or out of her head or a thousand and one things I have been called in every family unit I have ever had.

But the Old Chief (may he rest well) would call Lis for what she is: Dreamer. And that's a scary and big and terrible responsibility and fate. And Them That Dream are usually also Them That Have Big Fates. Not usually the sort that can hide well in the background.

Well they can try. Paint-splattered Mum does her best. It's better than a lot could manage. But maybe the Thing That Stalks likes her and hers so much because of the Dreamings. Or maybe it will be the Thing That Stalks that will force her to meet her fate. Fate is a big word for only four letters. Y'know?

And here I am, all of sixteen and barely educated trying to explain to you all what Fate means. What it meant to Old Chief and all the things he tried to teach me before... well anyway.

Anyway.

The point is, don't ignore the Dreamers or their Dreamings. Because I know damned well the Things That Never Sleep won't be ignoring them. They'll be as familiar as they like with the Dreamers. And their People.

Grumpy Mum and I are here to stay though. It's been a while since anyone made me feel like I belong. And I think Grumpy Mum can relate to that feeling right there.

And now I'm getting Looks for being all emotional and typing over here. They suspect the revealing nature of my post. I'm hitting submit now.

To Clarify

They've given me this laptop for free! And it's, like, freaking retarded powerful. At least that's what the internet says. But like, they just gave it up. I'm going to guess that has something to do with the source of said laptop (I've been reading the backlogs, the mums have been through some hell I see), but even so!

I've been reading through the backlogs. And the mums have been through their hell. I hardly see reason for them to trust me, a stranger, but they took me in.

AND THE GRUMPY MUM EVEN SAYS I'M GROWING ON HER.

Madness. Serious. Madness. But I guess that's what happens when you give a pregnant woman just what she's craving when she's craving it. And try it too. Pickles and peanut butter. Well, it was odd, but not that bad I guess? It could have been worse.

Other thing of mention: the spoiling doesn't stop at the laptop. They took me shopping. For clothes. They offered for make-up, but Awonawilona knows I've enough of that from years of practice with my five-finger discount. My make-up bag never leaves me.

I guess they'd like me to stop that if I'm traveling with them, the five-finger discount part, not the make-up part, so I guess I can do the mums that much at least. I mean, they're providing for me, out of their own pockets. Generosity has never been really in my vocabulary before. And if it weren't for spell-check I wouldn't know how to spell it. That's for sure.

But yeah.

These women are weird. But I think they might be growing on me too.

What the Hell are these Women Even On?!

First and foremost: these bitches be crazy.

No seriously. They run up and fetch a kid from the arms of the Slender Fuck and straight up drag that kid off. And yeah, that part hurt a bit. But they were still stubborn enough to do it.

So the tall woman mumbles about all the strays and generosity and the never worrying about the self, but she totally bends under the little one's words. It's kinda quaint. I never got the opportunity to really see people being all 'cute'. It wasn't exactly an option. Whatever. I'm not bemoaning my lack of social exposure.

I hear she's called Tia, and the other Lissie. I'm renaming them.

Respectfully, "Grumpy Mum" and "Paint-Splattered Mum." I think these are more appropriate callings. And besides, despite me only running with 'em a few days now, they treat me real nice.

Haven't been treated this nice since I was in school - an' hell was that a while ago. Actually, since I was with the tribe, and that was even longer ago. So I guess that's why I think the mums are crazy. Because they are. For treating a stranger-orphan-homeless kid so nice. I suppose in my backhanded way I wanna thank them for at least temporarily dragging me with them, so I'm making myself useful and cleaning up after them in their truck and stuff. I don't have shit else to do anyway.

And the grumpy mum needs a little extra support - despite what she says or claims or whatever.

Second, I guess I should introduce myself. They talked about me. Or the paint-splattered mum did. And she alluded to some things. About some tough topics. But I really don't know if I should go into all that yet.

Until further notice I guess I should give you a name.

Kailin. Not Kai. Not Lin. Not Kail. Not anything else. Kailin Lusio. And I am me. Does anything else really matter?