Back to Work

I'm sorry about last night's post. Yesterday was bad.

When I escaped Star's diabolical plans, instead of heading straight out of town like I said I would, I went back to the apartment. I needed my notes, my money, some clothes, and the things Cam left for me. A pile of letters and a notebook.

The idiot made one of THOSE notebooks. And I never knew. Hidden in the blank pages is a pretty accurate picture of... of how he died. He definitely drew it. I... I don't know when he did, but he knew. He fucking knew. What the fuck is this? Apparently he was never as Slendyfree as he said he was. I just don't understand why he lied.

While waiting for Nick at the apartment, I started talking to Shaun, and he...I dunno, he went fucking nuts and started freaking out about how I wasn't safe. I didn't know what else to do, so I ran. Six blocks faster than I've bugged out in a long time. Found myself at the cemetery. Got to see Cam one last time before I left town...

That was where Nick met me. I was an absolute mess, I'll admit it. I was lucky that it was deserted that morning. Not many people want to visit a graveyard on a bright, hot morning. The rest of the day was spent alternately doing things like setting up a meeting with August and Spencer and selling the car and randomly breaking down on poor Nick. I'm not proud of it, but I had my one day. I let myself grieve for one day. I gave an entire day to the fear and misery and desperation.

No more. I've got work to do if I want to help those of you who need my help. I don't have time for tears and crying.

August, Spencer, I'm sorry you had to see me like that yesterday. Dinner went badly, and a lot of that is my fault. Thank you for all of your help.

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.

Escape

I'm out, I'm out, I'm out, I'm free, I'm safe. Well, as safe as I can be, under the circumstances. By the time this goes up, I'll have been gone for two hours. I'm getting the fuck out of town, and that should be plenty of time for me to be off in a direction and be difficult to trace.
The alarm probably will have gone up by then, anyway.

It was surprisingly easy to get away. Terminator was on guard duty, and he was tired and distracted and forgot to lock the door... Something distracted him, he ran off, and it wasn't much work to sneak out. I almost feel bad for Star-two days he was in top form and some incompetent moron ruined it for him.
Yeah, if he hadn't been planning on killing me today, I would be sad about that. As it stands, FUCK YES FOR INCOMPETENT MINIONS!

Anyway, I'm at a McDonalds posting this and they're getting pissy that I haven't ordered anything, so I'm going to head out. I'll put a proper post tonight when I'm on the road.

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

Stir Crazy

Okay, my guards are all asleep. Except for the one who can't leave his post by the door. I should be safe to post. It looks like the blogs are pretty dead right now, except for poor Shroedinger. Not much I can do for her, or for Konaa, who I'm still worried about. I can't go do anything for Shaun either, as much as I'd like to after the revelation of his insane fucking situation. I can't do anything for or with anyone right now because I'm STUCK IN A MOTHERFUCKING ROOM.

Sure. I have the laptop. I have cable, and permission to order movies off of the pay-per-view. But I have a hotel bedroom and bathroom as my only room to move. I have several police officers who like staring over my shoulder and whom I have to get permission from before closing the door. ANY door.

I've been working half the time I've been here, partly out of a perverse desire to make the cops as uncomfortable as I am, partially because I thought I'd need the money, but after what happened this afternoon, that's not really a problem.

Apparently Cam had a will on file, and it was read today. Cam left me half of his money. Half. I'm not going to tell you how much that is, but it's more money than I've ever had in my life. By a SIGNIFICANT margin. I also get to keep the laptop and the car, and there's apparently a notebook I'm supposed to look at... I'll have to see about finding it when I can go home.

In the less good news, I'm not to be allowed to go to Cam's funeral. Too much of a risk Prosper will show up to try and finish the job. Though of course, they don't know it's Prosper. The point remains, and they're probably even right, but I don't like it. I would've liked to give him a  proper send-off.

Fuck, it's late. They'll start waking up soon, and I need to get some sleep.

Update

I'm alive. I don't fucking know how I'm alive, but I am. Apparently Prosper isn't horribly observant. Or I'm really fucking lucky. Either way, I survived the few desperate hours before I dared come out and see if I'd made it. He was gone, Cam was...
Jake was gone. No body, minimal signs of fighting, just gone. I don't know what that means. I can't... I can't think about it yet.

I called the police, because again, what else do you do when you're roommate...

Well. I had to call. I was once again at the station, answering questions. I went in at like 7am, and I didn't leave until  half an hour ago. First it was the questions, then it was the waiting. They wanted me to submit to their 'protection'. I wouldn't have gone, but they managed to make the paperwork from my approval to go to the wedding vanish, and it was either police protective custody or back to prison for parole violations. Only for a week, admittedly, but I don't fancy my chances back in prison. Even without slendershit there's plenty of people who want me dead.

So, I'm here. In some nondescript hotel. On the bright side, this is a suite, so the policeman in the room doesn't have to stand over me to guard the door. On the downside, I'm trapped in a room I'm not allowed to leave for the next week. And I've no idea how much they're watching what I'm doing. I don't have my notes. I don't have any real privacy. I wasn't allowed back into the apartment to pack a bag, they brought a bunch of nondescript clothes in roughly my size. They allowed me to bring the laptop and my cell, both of which I took with me to the police station to begin with. Technically this is 'at will' so in theory when my parole ends Saturday I can walk out the door and not look back.

We'll see if that works in practice. In addition, lets see if I can last this week without getting myself into trouble with the officers. After C-after what happened, I'm not really in a sit and hide sort of mood. More a 'run and hunt down the bastard that did this' mood or a 'run the fuck away and never look back or else he'll find you' mood. Depending.

But, fuck. I'm alive. Completely unharmed. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much if I had been.

~Elaine

Ohfuckfuckcufuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
He's here he's here he's here.
I haven't seen the bastard in ten years and he's here he found me how did he find me I changed my name I changed everything HOW DID HE FIND US.

Cam's dead. In bed. Covered in blood. I saw. Jake.. I don't know where. Had to hide. Hiding. Can't make a sound can't scream can't breathe above a whisper if he finds me I'm done ogodogodogod

Nononononono. I've changed I dont Imnot noplease leave. Youkilled Cam, my friend, my best friend, you kiled him and all he did was be my friend


Okay. I don't know if he'll find me, but I refuse to let what might be my last post be just mad ramblings. I'm better than that.

I'm sorry I lied, Shady. It's him, of course it is. I was there too. I didn't know you that well, but well enough apparently. If I survive this, I can give you some answers.

Jake, if you're alive I'm sorry. Cam's dead because of me.

Nick. I wish we'd had more time. We were amazing. If I get out of this... well, I don't really have anything I'd change.  I just want more of what we have. Maybe that's greedy, but it's been a long time since it was that easy to smile.

Shaun. I'm glad you're alive. Wish I wasn't about to die immediately after, but that's how shit goes sometimes, I guess. Thank you for everything.

Konaa, I'm sorry about your family. We both lost people important to us tonight, and if I survive this, we'll both be running. Hang tight. You've still got us. We'll help you if you let us.

Lucas, Joel, thank you for believing in me before everyone else did. I'm so glad I could help you.

There's a lot I would tell you if I were slightly more sure I was going to die. As it stands, I think I have about a fifty fifty shot. I'm just sitting here, hiding, waiting, hoping he goes. Or maybe I'm lying, and I'm running. I could be halfway across town by now, Prosper, and you'd never know. I could be anywhere. You lost the element of surprise. Leave me alone.

Guys, I honestly don't know if I'm going to make it through this. This is the first time since... well, since things I don't want to discuss, that I haven't been sure if I would make it. If I'm not back here posting sometime within the next 24 hours, I'm probably dead. If not, I'll see you then and fill you in a little more on what's happened.