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.

Just a Note

Not that it really is terrifically significant to me right now, considering I'm not there right now, but the 9th Circuit Court ruled that Proposition 8 is unconstitutional. Woohoo! In a lot of ways though it is really significant to me. Because California is where I spent a lot of my most recent years, and a lot of the friends I made there are going to have a shot at equality. And that's important. I want to see my all my friends walk down the aisle in brightly colored converse.


I really hope the appeal for that ruling falls to shit though. We don't need all that drama bull again. It's just annoying.


If you don't know what Proposition 8 was, use your own google-foo. I am, at present, too lazy to actually give a proper explanation or link.


I dunno. I guess that was all I had to say. Maybe I'll drive back and get impulsively hitched to Lissie in 28 days? It's a possibility. We'll keep you posted for that one! (Also watch the comments for inevitable Lissie-flails on that subject.)

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.

Just Something I've been Fiddling With

Each breath breathed means we're alive
And life means that we can find
The reasons to keep on getting by
And if reasons we can't find
We'll make up some to get by
'Til breath by breath we'll leave this behind

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?

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.

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.