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.

Amusing... heh.

Elisa, Elisa, Elisa.

What interesting taste you have in... bedfellows.

Hee.

You really do have slightly atrocious luck.

One's gone, one's your friend, and now you've been drugged  by dear... Nemo... Michael... Heh, does the name quite matter at this point?
Probably does, but I honestly couldn't care less at the moment.

I imagine you were completely sweet up to the last second before you swooned away in his arms.

Or did he let you fall on the floor?

I'm sort of hoping he did.
It would just be the topper on this.

It's funny, funny business.

You care and love, or claim to, even when you don't completely trust.

Or did you trust?

Oh, that would be delicious.

He used you, Elisa.
Played your emotions.

But then, you're used to unreturned emotions, aren't you?

You knew something, though.

You knew things were "wrong", and yet you just stood there and hugged him or something, didn't you?

Idiot.

They're going to pity you, of course.

A pathetic fool who got herself drugged for her troubles.

Worthless.

Alone, even with them around you.

Numb.

Mine, anyway.
Somehow.

Funny how people finding you curled up in the dirt is seeming to become a habit, Elisa.
Wonderfully dramatic timing on his part, though.
Don't you think?
The amount of blood lost on your part is unfortunate, though.
You made the Choice though, didn't you?
You actually made the Choice.
Selfish little Lissie, sparing her friends from defending her.
Hide away, short stuff.
After all, it's what you're good for, hiding behind people like the pitiful little wretch you are.


This path you're on will twist and turn.
People will fall and skies will burn.
Build it tall and build it thick
Stone by stone and brick by brick.
For all the good that it will do
These walls will soon collapse on you.
Your blood will wash into the sea.
In the end, it's you or me.
Change what you can, but in the end
You will do more than lose a friend.
And I will laugh.
And laugh.
And laugh.

You won't have the nerve.
Who will have to kill for you the next time?
And the next?
And the next?
Watch Rome burn, Elisa.
I'll bring the fiddle.

Smile for the camera, darling.

You had so much potential back in the day.

Too bad you're crashing and burning now.

You're right.

So much of what happens to you and those around you is your own fault.

You're funny, in your attempts to try and act otherwise.

Where were you, Elisa Danielle Jackson?
Where were you when girls went missing at camp as a child?
Where were you when your mother had that horrible accident?
Where were you when your dear therapist, who has saved your live more times in the past few years than you care to count was stalked and who even cares to know what else?
You're a coward and a failure at everything you set out to do.
You're going to give up, just like with everything else.
And I'm going to laugh.
And laugh.
And laugh.

The clock is ticking.
Get out.
Now.

There once was a little bunny who had done no wrong.

She was given a knight and a handmaiden with blood on her dress to watch over her.

The knight rode off into the shadows when the shadows came the first time.

This left the handmaiden to be the guard.

The handmaiden did her utmost when the shadows came again, but fell.

The little bunny was broken because she had done wrong.

Four people meet at a crossroads.

How long until they all are gone?

Four people meet at a crossroads.

Who will be the first to go?

Four people meet at a crossroads.

Which of the paths will they take?

It's a game of masks.

The innocent, the victim, the caretaker, and the lover.

What lies behind those faces?

When will they fall?

When will they crumble?

What will it take?

Will new masks be rebuilt upon the ruins, or will you simply fall?

She can hear the screams.

She can smell the blood.

The paintings show as much.

How long until she breaks?

It should be easy, as hard as she tries to shield others.

She's no protector, and she knows that.

One will walk away, and another will come.

That should be interesting.

Don't trust me.

Don't trust anyone unless you have to.

It's time to wake up to the hard choices, kiddies.