Well, it's Elaine again. I'm still alive, I'm doing just fine, and back more or less to normal.
I really just want to start all of this off by apologizing for a certain stupid thing I did. It was selfish of me to try to remove myself from all of this without thinking about those of you I'd be leaving behind. Most of you I've talked to one way or another to apologize to more directly, but I feel like I should say something here. According to Blogger, a lot of people read this fucking blog. Probably at least some of you are looking for guidance, just like I was, back when I started. I don't want my story to end with such a cop-out.
All of you reading this deserve more from me, and honestly, I don't really feel like giving up yet. There's a lot of fighting left for me to do before I get my rest, and I intend to make slendershit crazy trying to take me out.
It was just grief. Grief for everyone we've lost recently. Starting with the fall of Hope, I lost eight of the people nearest and dearest to me over the course of a week. As I've said in the past, I'm nothing fancy with words or feelings, but I feel like I ought to say something for everyone that's gone.
The Johnsons. Their blood is directly on my hands. The family came to Hope because it was the only chance they had left. When they arrived they'd lost everything but each other, and were managing to hold strong and raise their daughter well.
But they had too much faith in me. They said the safest place in the world for them was at my side, in Hope, even without special protection. Jennifer, Levi, and poor little Adam. They were a loving, close knit family, and they deserved better than what they got. Elliott and I are taking care of their daughter. Emily is only six, but she's amazing. I hope we can raise her right and keep her safe.
Michael. Or perhaps I should call him Nemo? He were more himself before he took his name back. He was a dear friend to me, even when he was going mad. Down underneath the protective layer of douchebaggery was the kind and thoughtful man I came to know when he first came to Hope. I miss him a lot, and I will always regret that I couldn't help him when he came to me in the end.
Konaa. He was a hell of a brave, crazy kid. No, man. I called him a kid, but his actions proved himself to be one hell of a good man. He was another of the best of us. Noble, tenacious, kind. He never gave a crap about himself, he was always fighting for us. He never killed, never even harmed anyone unless he absolutely had to. He was a good friend and a good man. He will be missed by all. He died as he lived-standing for what he believed in.
Lucas. He was by far one of the best, kindest men I've ever had the good fortune to know. He helped me through a lot of shit right until the end. He was also the first other Stalked I really got in touch with when shit hit the fan, which made him... one of my oldest friends. The world has lost something, losing him.
Joel. He and I were close as well. Lucas and Joel were, for a while, a bright shiny example of true love in the face of adversity. Then he was taken by his Wolf. But he refused to give up. He fought his way back out for the man he loved. He shouldn't be remembered by his final actions, but as a man who did anything and everything to protect the man he loved.
Josh. He was a hell of a kid. Would've really been somebody if he'd gotten a chance to grow up and actually do things, instead of run from a faceless fuck in a suit. I didn't get to know him quite as well as the others, but I knew him well enough to miss him now.
I'll try to get something up in the next few days talking about what's been going on with me.