Sleepless in the Waiting Room

I'm not sleeping. Chilled out is not the phrase that I would use for me, though Lis seems to think it appropriate (that's cute).

I did meet a guy in the caf last night. I think he had the hots for me. Totally drooling the whole time. Totally worthless. A waste of my time.

Sarcasm. I have it.

The doctor's are whispering things. They think no one can hear. They think we're asleep. They want to save Tia. Not the baby. It's too early on to save the baby. There's really no hope for it. Webbed toes and fingers and incomplete organs.

And it's pretty much not going to make it. Too complex. Black blood everywhere. It's started to die in the womb. And it could kill Tia.

I've said too much.

Tia doesn't know.

She's still K.O.

Lucky me. First to know, and no way to fix the situation.

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.

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.

Well, Now I'm Pissed

I just missed my...


Fuckshit. This fucking sucks. Give it a week. Calm the fuck down.


I'm fine.

Words, Words, Words...

Words are fucking hard sometimes.

I broke him. I feel like... maybe, maybe, maybe there was something I could have done to stop this from happening. Ages and ages and eras and eras back. Responsible. I was cold and cruel and mean and I couldn't have just given him a little more. Just a little more maybe. Maybe then he'd be okay. Well and alive and okay.

I can dream. Dreams are silly though.

There's this ache... it comes up between the moments where Lissie is holding me together and Shaun plays some comfort song to keep me from hiding myself entirely. It's guilt. I know the thing for what it is. And it is guilt. It's nauseating. It never goes away. And I think I deserve it.

Between the moments where Lis has her hand on mine to remind me that I am not alone and I am no longer bound and the moments where Shaun gives his sage-words of true comfort and sympathy... I retreat. Back to that moment. Could I have changed it? If I had been less petrified and thrown and betrayed and hurt... if I could've gotten a handle on my emotions, could all this damn ache have been avoided? I'm normally better than that. I keep my composure. I hate weapons.

Seems terribly selfish. My primary motiive. Make my own aching stop. I've never been to great at giving. Or getting. Where does that even put me on the social scale of givers and getters? Puts me in the 'I don't like people, not really at all, leave me alone because it's just easier that way' category. Where does that even fit into the spectrum? It doesn't. It's an outlier.

Ah yes. There I am. An outlier. A product of my own making. A societal freak of nature. Unwilling to receive or give trust.

I am fighting my own nature. Moment by moment I am fighting it. I want to go back, years and years back when it was so, so, so, so terribly much easier. Back, way back... to right about 8 years old. When I could trust and it was easy. When mom would tell me "Dad will be home in 136 more days," and I believed her. I believed her because she was my mother and I trusted her and trust was easy and not impossible. I believed her when she told me her Tiana was the sweetest, most beautiful, kind and caring little girl she had ever met. I believed her because she was my mother and these things were still true.

I was kind.
I was sweet.
I was caring.
Beauty was inside and out.

I have learned bad habits as I've grown up. I've grown out of childhood niavety, but I wish I hadn't. I wish I was still beautifully unmarred by the coldness of the world and the reality of the situation and the cynicism. So much cynicism. I wish that I could be childlike in my worldview, but adult enough to know the value of that worldview. Unfortunately I am only the latter. I drift in and out. Between hoping and wishing there's still that ache. And I know the world is not the place my childlike perception would have had it.

I am not 8 years old and I am not blessed with a kind, caring, trusting heart. And I am here. He's not. Won't be. Ever.

I'd never killed anyone before. And I trusted him. Myself. Us. So well.

My nature says retreat further Tia. Reatreat and shut them all off. Just keep them out. It will be safer for them. Safer for you. Because you don't like people and what could they possibly like about you? People are changeable, malleable, untrustworthy things Tia: reject them all.

I can't do that though. That's not fair. Not to Lissie nor Shaun nor the comforts they provide me. They're not people I tell my nature. I don't have to like or trust people, but these two are not people. They are worthy of my trust. They are not people, my cruel nature, they are my friends. I won't retreat. Not from them. They deserve better, so I will give them better.

Found and Lost

We found her.
Approximately an hour after that post went up this morning, I recieved an email from someone I've been talking to a bit over the last month or so. No name's given, ever. I have my suspicions, though. And I'm not overly happy with where those suspicions lead.

Shaun's been keeping me steady and focused. I feel like I'd have been flying in five directions at once if not for his getting me to focus better. It wasn't exactly panic. Something else. A mixture of manic energy and depressive anxiety, oscillating wildly. In all of this, this is the deepest anger and fear I have felt. For Tia. Maybe caring too much is a weakness, but if it is, I don't want that level of strength.

Anyway, I recieved an email with a street address in it. Nothing more, nothing less. The location was outside of the range Shaun and I had been searchign the last few days. There was some understandable supiscion, of course. I mean, obvious trap, right? Right? It was the only lead we'd gotten, though. I left some stuff behind at the hotel, but we moved into gear. We took a taxi from the hotel, and had the driver drop us off a few blocks from the location. Not an unreasonable precaution, I think. We stashed a few things and then went to check out the location.

Sure enough, the truck was parked outside. Is it bad that I'm glad that my truck wasn't trashed? I mean, I know it's selfish, but having a reliable vehicle is a plus.

The building seemed abandoned, but it did have power. That much was obvious. We made our way inside, and started searching. There was a basement apartment. Blake was there.

There was blood in the room. A good bit of it, too. The blood led off to the bathroom, where the shower was running. I was honestly almost afraid to go in, but I had to find Tia. No matter her state. She should have had to. She was there, huddled under the ice-cold spray, sobbing. We got her out and dried off, bundling her up against the cold. She was shaking so hard. I want to stop that pain.

Blake is dead. Shot with my revolver that he'd apparently taken from the truck. Believe me, I checked. I had to get the keys off of him, after all. He was dead when we got there. Probably happened not long before that post went up this morning. Tia's not talking.

That's when things went even more to pot for a little bit there.

Twisting, warping. Tearing. He was there. Standing over Blake. I called for Shaun to get Tia out. Maybe it's more accurate to say shouted? Cried? I followed, but it took a moment to get my legs to work properly. There are colors still. Colors and shadows and awareness. Blank spots that I wasn't even aware of before. Funny, that. This isn't about me, though. Can't focus on that right now.

Blake's gone.

We've been driving since then, and have finally stopped. Maybe we should keep driving, but Tia's not in the best way. I don't think there's anything physically serious, but... yeah. She's not talking about what happened. She's shocky, which obviously, I don't blame her for.

Blake was the most stable of the three of us, which is, of course, why he just had to fall. And possibly why he fell so hard. I don't want to know the extent of what happened in that little basement apartment, but on some level, I'm going to need to. Eventually. Comunication is invaluable. I'm hoping we can get her talking about at least normal stuff soon.

We have to figure out what to tell his family.

We'll manage. We have to.
We have to heal. Somehow.

It's Still Cold in Alaska

I'm so so sorry... I hope you find peace Lover.

In Memoriam. Because.

I had planned to do a post yesterday, but I am, for once, in no place to mourn the loss of people I never had the fortune or misfortune to meet. There is nothing in that area for me to say that has not already been said. May they rest in as much peace as they can manage, if that is at all possible.

Loss is a terrible thing, honestly. To lose someone you care for, someone you feel responsible for is no better. Shep offered to send me pictures of the state of the Sinclair house. I feel sure he knew I don't trust him as far I I can throw him. Which, given the differences in our height and weight and the fact that I'm not exactly... Yeah, I need to stop go off on a tangent.

Marie Jenette Sinclair. The vast majority of her posts on this blog have been unpleasant at the very least, and needlessly cryptic at times. Except for perhaps the very end there, she was not the girl I had promised to keep an eye on and protect. This much became obvious in the emails she continued to send me after some time. They were hurtful and bitter, barbed and intended to make me hurt, but it was no less than I deserved, yeah? I left her.

Do I feel guilt over her death? Yes. Despite everything, Marie was my responsibility. Maybe if, as soon as it had become obvious that she was awake, we had gone back to Alabama, this could've been prevented. I could have done something, as unlikely as it sounds for someone as ineffectual as myself.

Instead, she's dead, and her parents were slaughtered like so much cattle. I should've been there, even if it meant that I would've died as well or instead.

Marie was not a bad person. She never was. She was hurting and twisted by something outside of herself. There was an inherent frustration to her posts and emails. Whoever did this killed not someone who could even attempt to fight back. They killed a diabetic, paralyzed, weakened, brain-damaged, and mentally-altered teenager who was defenseless, and by all accounts, given into that state fairly willingly by her parents. That is the act of  a coward. Especially if Shep is right and it wasn't Slim Jim.

I'm going to leave this here, but I had to get this out. People are going to contradict me, of course, but this, on some level, is my fault. The least I can do is remember the good parts of her.

Today was Hard

Really, really hard.

...

I think it'll be easier just to show you.

And this was inside them (excuse my non-existant photo manipulation skills):

(you should open the massive image files in a new tab... better resolution to make it readable.)

Needless to say I'm less than pleased with the day. We made it to our next place for the time being. A little closer to the west coast, not quite there yet though. Soon.

Elaboration

I'm going to try not to be overly emotional. Meaning I will probably fail. But I'm going to at least attempt it for everyone who reads our blog so that they are properly informed of the situation.


Blake has been... well I think it's obvious from the previous posts. He's not been himself. He's very kind and loving and puts everyone else first and thinks about every action and consequence before doing anything. I know most of you are just taking my word for it, but he genuinely meant for good things to come for people. He's normally a very loving man. He does things that are unnecessarily kind and unfathomably sweet.


You know that we went to Barcelona on a three month leave once over our years together? Well, for our anniversary that just passed he had recreated our trip on the roof of Hope (may the building and all who fell with it rest in peace). He had wine and tapas and flamenco music and it was really a beautiful night. Of course my favorite part had been hiking up to Montserrat and Sant Miquel de Fai, but you can't really bring that part to a rooftop dinner can you? At least we had some height.


And that was the man that I loved very, very much.

...he fucked that up today.


It was early, we were all tired admittedly, but there are no excuses and he crossed a line. You know we were only discussing where to go next? We were just talking like normal and then Lissie interrupts him without thinking and all of a sudden there's a loud smack of a noise and Lissie's crying and covering her just barely recovering face and his fucking eyes were all wrong. He just wasn't him. The Blake I know could hardly harm a fly, and Lissie? Oh that's several steps beyond a fly.


The very first thing I did was pull her behind me and clarify very specifically that he had indeed crossed a goddamn line and he would not be travelling with us or even me whilst he was still behaving badly. And under no circumstances will I change that. No, while Blake is behaving irrationally and angrily and badly he will not be in Lissie's, and thereby my, company.


I don't think I've glared that hard since... well since Micheal, but before that since High School.


We left then. It was deceptively easy. Our things were already packed and we had everything in the truck. We just threw him his two bags and booked it. Drove for like 6 hours before we even stopped for the lady's room break. Food was take-out and unhealthy, I'm surprised we both managed to keep any food down considering things though.


I didn't even kiss him goodbye. I just walked out. I didn't know... I could do that.


I'm not going to lie, this stings, it stings a lot. Like when little angry bumblebees are buzzing about you because you're their flower and you won't yield any pollen, and then they're dropping dead around you because of all the teeny tiny angry pokes at your skin. It hurts like that. And hundreds of little bees leaving their venom inside of you makes you tired, drowsy, sick, nervous, wishing for the perfect antidote. I guess victims of angry bees are lucky that an antidote exists at all aren't they?


I, however, am not so lucky am I? It's okay. I'll survive. It's what I do after all.


I'm tired now.


'Oh god, now when's the time for me?
Oh, when will you see me through?
Oh god, mind is eating my heart out
Oh god, my heart is beating my mind out.
Oh god I can't believe in you
Just because I'm afraid you're true.'
-Ida Maria, "See Me Through"

I. what

We left blake in the last town... He hit me and was yelling and
...Fuck's sake. Everything's coming apart.
The look in his eyes...

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?

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.