Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Expanded Version

Em's finally calming down, and we're at the doctor's right now, so I have some time while he looks her over to type this from my phone while I linger in case I'm needed/wanted.

Late last night, after I'd put Emily to bed, I heard someone outside our hotel room. After checking to make sure Em was secure, I went to investigate and found... something rather surprising. Lori was outside, wearing a mask made out of bones and with another long bone in a holster on her hip

She wouldn't respond to me, just pulled two lollipops wrapped in paper. One had my name, one had Em's.
On the reverse side of the paper were notes. Both of ours were friendly and sweet, though obviously rambly and crazy. Her handwriting was gone-sketchy and changing in ten different places, and messier than Em's.

I tried to talk to her some, and we managed to have a vague sort of conversation via charades. As it turns out, she can't talk, because of some kind of head injury. She's definitely working for slendershit (When I asked, she just flashed me this insanely pleased smile). And when I asked if she'd dosed the candy she just flashed me a heart.

So when she left I checked to make sure Em was still asleep, stashed the candy in my suitcase and went to rinse my face and try to calm the fuck down. When I came /out/ of the bathroom, I find Emily awake and eating my lollipop. I took it away, but the damage was done. She spent most of the past day freaking the fuck out.

The doctor says that it shouldn't have any particularly awful side effects-at least, no more so than it could potentially for anyone else. Apparently it's no more toxic to children, just far more difficult to manage. I got lucky that she came out of it at all. With the shit that she's seen... the potential for a bad trip was phenomenally high. I think I kept her out of the worst of it.

Now comes the wait to see if she starts having flashbacks.


  1. You know, if you had just gotten rid of them, you probably wouldn't be in this mess to begin with.

    1. Yeah. I know. Trust me, you cannot possibly kick me as much as I am kicking myself right now.

    2. Honestly, I'm a bit miffed with the 'bad parenting' label. You didn't know she was awake, AND hid them. So, well.. -shrugs- I have to disagree.

  2. What's on my dashboard today:
    -A criminal organization trying to brainwash a dude Clockwork Orange stile.
    -A man trying to fight Eldritch Abomination with ponies and a ball
    -Kids on LSD

    Things are getting so fucked up. It's almost comical...

  3. The clock counts down. Midnight draws near.

    Watch and pay heed, my dancing children, for my Prodigal Daughter returns to me.