Fuck. Fuck. Been in this place maybe a week and my head won't stop screaming at me.
Konaa's dead. Lucas is dead. Joel's dead. And so many others. People I've only read in passing. People I've only talked to once or twice. Michael. Josh. Why always the holidays?
Rest in peace. All of you. Konaa - no, June. June, you brave son of a bitch. I was going to tell you before you left that if you died before I could repay you I was going to be pissed. Guess now it's too late. Joel, what little time I spent with you was great. So, thanks for that. Lucas... everything I've heard about you tells me you were a great person. I wish we could have talked more than the passing 'hey's that we did. Everybody else... you fought the good fight - but everybody's gotta go eventually. Guess you can consider this my last respects.
This is getting ridiculous. It's one thing to stare at the wall of foliage from the safety of a guest room, advancing inch by inch as the days pass by. It's another thing to wake up with your window shattered and about five trees eagerly clawing at your doors, bedposts and closet.
It was a fun morning.
Talked to Fitz - afterall, he's already talked about it once. Apparently we can't escape that damn forest. Even when we're out, we're still not out. It's still a shadow in the back of our minds. A shadow that screams and pulls at nerve endings and calls to you in the dead of the night and no, Broodmoor, you're not listening to it because that's the stupidest fucking idea you've ever had but fuck, it's siren's song and there's only so many times you can get talked down from it before it just. Stops. Working.
Alex is looking better, at least. But the kid's quieter than ever - I don't blame him, though. This place is doing horrible things to me so I'd hate to see what's happening in his head. But with him in Rivers' care I know there isn't much I can do.
Going to talk to Elaine about leaving tomorrow. Don't know how much longer I can stay here.