Happy Birthday to Me?

I'm not entirely sure how, but August found out that yesterday was my birthday. I'm twenty four. I didn't much feel like celebrating.

I'd honestly hoped I could get by without people knowing. The only people other than me who should have known were Cam and Jake, and they're not exactly around to tell people about it. I don't... Cam always made a big deal about it. Every year, no matter where I was, where he was, he'd make sure to do everything he could to make my birthday special. Even when he didn't know where I was, he'd call me and keep me on the phone for hours, talking to me and trying to brighten my day. I... My birthday was always the day I spent with him. So, I kind of hoped to forget it this year.

But. August threw a party. And it was all of us here at the house, and there was enough food to feed a family for a week and he was just so pleased with it. I couldn't say no. And it... it almost felt nice. Even with Doc drinking two feet from me and making me ache with the need for a glass. Because it almost felt like being part of a family again.

Of course, it didn't last. We hadn't even gotten past August's appetizers when Spencer bolted. I followed. We both saw something. I... I don't want to talk about it.

August, I'm sorry we ruined your dinner. It was delicious, I just...
I need to be alone for a while. You know where to find me if you need me.

Fire

Fuck. Got careless, got sloppy, and it's ended badly. Shrody and I have come out of this with our skins intact, anyway, and Frank's still being his usual loving self, so it could be a lot worse.
Still, I lost half of my notes, including all of Alice's notes AND her notebook itself.  Not to mention the fear that comes when you get stupid enough to think you might be safe and something terrible happens.

See, we hit a motel a little early tonight. I know I haven't been sleeping worth shit, and taking care of a new kitten means Shrody's not sleeping as well as she could be either. I think all three of us were relieved to see the inside of our rooms-two, with the connecting door wide open, as usual. I took first watch, it's not like I was going to sleep anyway-apparently suddenly sobering up will do that to a girl.

In any event, when they called the alarm over the intercom, Shrody and I were up and moving in a flash, grabbing what we could and out the door. The other guests-not that there were many of them- followed us out shortly afterward, followed by the staff, the manager carrying his ledger and doing a head count.

The motel was going up FAST, from several different points, but it looked like no harm had been done to any of us. I motioned for Shrody to follow me to the car and started loading up. It was only when I turned to ask for her bag that I noticed she was gone. And then I immediately realized that Frank hadn't made it out with us.

It was stupid of me not to grab him and stupid of me to let Shrody out of my sight when her kitten was in danger. So, I did something equally stupid. I ran in after her. Because like hell was I going to risk anything else happening to her.
If you've never walked into a burning building, it's a little pointless to describe the suffocating heat, the smoke everywhere, sometimes thin enough that you almost wouldn't know there was a fire, sometimes so thick you can't see a foot in front of your face. Mostly I stayed clear of the flames, but trying to get through the hotel occasionally I'd hit a stretch where the flames bloomed above me or to the side and made the entire place look like some crazed artist's rendition of hell. It's the sort of thing you have to live to really understand, and trust me, you don't want to.

That said, it didn't take me long to get to her, it just felt like it. She'd made it to the room, but she was OUT. The ceiling was starting to cave, and something fell on her-though I'm not really sure what, there was nothing nearby that looked like it fell. Looked like it was on fire when it hit, but for whatever reason it went out quick-which was good for her. Even better, Frank was there, nosing at her, trying to wake her. I grabbed her and Frank and got the fuck out of there. Once we were out, the Manager started fussing over us and trying to insist on calling an ambulance. I'm not ENTIRELY sure how Shrody's condition works and I didn't think she'd want doctors peering at her if she could help it, so I stalled until she woke up.
Oh that was such a relief. I'm willing to admit now, now that we're safe and far away, that I was terrified. I was so worried that something serious had happened-or worse, that I'd lost her completely.
She seemed to be in a lot of pain, but she insisted the man not call an ambulance, and so he FINALLY left to deal with his other customers. After that it was a matter of waiting until she was alright to move and then getting the fuck out of there.

Though I will say. The smile on her face when she saw Frank safe and well made it all worth it.

Visiting

Throwing up a quick post to let all of you know that Shrody and I are safe at TMV's house.

Those of you who read Shrody's blog will know about what happened. On the bright side, we have a kitten. A tiny adorable kitten named Frank who makes our lives so much more interesting and whom I've admittedly been spoiling rotten. It's... it's her story to tell, really, but I wish there was something I could've done.

Again, I think being in the company of someone other than me is doing her some good. I'm unfortunately not the cheeriest of traveling companions, but Ro's been really sweet to us both, and he seems really fond of Frank. Which is nice, because I would've hated to come all this way only to leave because his house wasn't cat friendly.

In any event, I should go. I wanted to chat with him tonight, to thank him for having us.

And It All Goes To Hell Again

I'd hoped that when I posted tonight to let you know that I got away safely I would be able to tell you that things were starting to look up. That maybe now that I was free and moving and with Nick I'd be able to find some peace.

I should know better by now. 

I'm tired of losing my friends. I'm tired of being afraid, I'm tired of fucking Slendershit and fucking crying and never knowing who's going to be next because everyone I care about is wrapped up in this.

I don't... I can't talk about this right now. I'm going to go to bed and hold tight to Nick and hope that everyone will still be alive when I wake up.

Apparently I'm a Damsel Now

eah. This week can officially go fuck itself.

Just to recap, this week my cat, my neighbor, and my best friend have been killed because of me. I've been questioned and accused by the police. I've been forced into protective custody on threat of jail time for 'parole violations'. I've been insulted and harassed by the officers 'protecting' me. I've been denied the right to attend the funeral of one of the people I care about most in the world. And now I've been fucking kidnapped.

What. The. Fuck.

I'd better keep this simple, else my captor might get bitchy. When he's not being cartoonishly insane, he's actually fairly threatening, something I think we all tend to forget, and I'd like to keep the bruising to a minimum, thanks. I'd rather not spend the next few weeks healing up because I was stupid and reckless.

Okay, that's a complete lie, you know me. I'm as noncompliant as they come, and Shitstar you're going to have to do something about it if you want that to change. I only agreed to write this post because I wanted people to know that I'm still fine. A bit roughed up, but fine.

Right. Anyway. I was sitting in the hotel room, as per the rest of this terrible fucking week, when Cuntmuffin drove the killdozer through the fucking wall.  Just out of nowhere. I have no idea how he found where I was-I didn't even know where I was. I'm not stupid, nor was it my job to protect someone stupidly against a fucking tank, so I went for cover while they shot up the room. Being unarmed I peered over but did not go charging out when the shooting stopped, only to find Cockrobin and a few of his minions(but not that fucking clown, thankfully) pouring out of the dozer. They grabbed me, and as there were four of them and I didn't have weapons, I didn't fight. Much.

And now I'm locked in a room again, except this time Shitstar and his morons are outside and I have NO IDEA when I'll be able to get out of here. Technically this is the point where I'm informed I'm supposed to do the whole 'Help me, Obi-Wan, you're my only hope' thing, but fuck that noise. Nick, stay put. I don't know where we are, though I'm almost positive we're still in town, we couldn't have gotten far in the Dozer. But I'm not exactly helpless, I'll think of something.

Probably

Back to the Real World

Elaine made me promise to put something up. The police are still talking to her-I think they're trying to get her to agree to protective custody. Like that would have happened even BEFORE Slendershit made the existence of police a damn moot point. Elaine's a stubborn bitch and that's not likely to change for the police. 
She hates them. Don't think she's ever told you lot that. Can't say I blame her really, not knowing what I know now. She's not overly fond of military types for the same reason, but she seems to have made an exception for me, which I'm grateful for.


Right. Sorry. Distracted. Don't want to think about things but I have to and fuck if I'm not supposed to be trained to deal with this sort of thing. It's a bit different out in the battlefield versus on your couch, though. 


To really understand this, I'm going to have to tell you about the phone calls we've been getting this week. Elaine didn't say anything up here because she didn't want to worry people, and the call we got yesterday she wanted to keep from Cam for a little while for his sake. Wednesday morning, Anne called us and told us that someone had left a torn up stuffed cat on the doorstep. We thought-we HOPED it was just a stupid prank or someone trying to psych us out. We didn't hear anything Thursday, so we relaxed a little. Yesterday, however, Anne called us with the news that River had been killed and left on display. Not just killed, either, but skinned and tortured and... It was bad. Anne was hysterical telling us about it. She called the police and Elaine and I agreed to keep this from Cam until we were leaving so he could enjoy his vacation.
We agreed that it was probably a proxy, but that there was nothing we could do until we got home. We did warn Anne to stay away for her own safety, but apparently she didn't listen


Anne was in our apartment when we got home. It looks like she had been trying to clean up some of the blood for us. Whoever killed her  used that to their advantage. The bleach she'd been using had been poured all over her mutilated body. It was gruesome and detailed and I really wish I could've kept Cam from seeing.


Elaine called the cops, because as much as she dislikes them she's not stupid. And we've been at the police station for the past hour. They think this has something to do with her past and want us all to go into protective custody until they can catch the killer.  There's no real good way to tell them that they WON'T catch the killer, so we're left looking like stubborn idiots. Really, I'm okay with that, so long as we're alive. Elaine and I are going to fortify the crap out of the apartment. No one gets in without us knowing about it.


Here's hoping that'll last us until we can figure out what to do from here.


Jake