Of Captain Nemo

Well, things have gone to hell again. Though to be honest I wasn't really sure if we'd ever gone back, but yeah, there's been some more drama to add to the pile.

Two days ago Michael revealed something rather shocking.

And now I think it's time I talk about something that happened a few weeks ago that I never mentioned. But now that all this has happened, I think it might help in explaining some things.

Michael has been splitting for a while now. Back when he got me away from the house, and we were driving towards the state border; I think that's when I realized how bad it was.

In hindsight, I'm starting to understand what that week must have been like for him. After what happened to Jessica, watching my episode and seeing Spencer have a shindig with my head must have been like watching the events replay themselves.

The day after Aggy died (or it was the same day wasn't it,) I woke up in the back of his car and we were on our way to New York. You know that much, right?


So there I was tied up in the back of Nemo's van, and I was sort of numb at that time, that is, I was trying very hard to not focus on what had happened the night before.

Now I am a classical music fan. However waking up to find it blasting so loud you're afraid your ears are going to fall off is not a pleasant experience. That was the first odd thing.

I asked him to turn it down some and he complied, but for the whole drive he kept turning it up little by little.

The other weird thing was that he seemed completely chipper the whole ride.

And whenever he spoke, instead of saying I or me, he said Us.

So I pestered and asked him what was going on, and why he was acting weird, and I found out.

I don't know for sure but Michael has got some kind of Multiple Personality thing going on inside his head.

Michael has already used the path. According to him, it split his mind into a bunch of tiny pieces and they were trying too put themselves back together.

  Apparently I was speaking to a part of Michael named No One. Someone who seemed more Proxy than runner.

I think this was the mindset Michael was in when he started damning people on his blog.

To save time now, I'm going to skip a lot of the details and just tell you that I really, really disliked him. He didn't have a lot of happy things to say, despite how bubbly he sounded.

I told him I wanted to talk to Nemo, and after a bit of convincing he obliged, and switched personalities.

Nemo of course didn't remember one thing about the whole ride. I tried to explain to him what was going on but he ignored me and said it was something he "didn't need to hear."

After that he left, and I was really worried.

Then he came to Hope and he posted this, and I thought for one shining moment that maybe he was going to be alright. That Hope had somehow fixed him in a way that I couldn't.

Then he posted this, and I started to wonder.

And then two nights ago I realized how bad it was, and how wrong I had been.

One of the funny things about Hope is that there is a whole floor for dangerous/unstable persons to be locked up in so they won't go crazy hurt the other residents. This is where I have been staying for the last couple of days, along with Alice.

So other than my room and the bathroom I haven't seen Hope. I don't even know where it is exactly since I was blindfolded on the way in.

But so far my only visitors had been Elaine and Michael, (and a guy named Shaun I suppose but we haven't talked a whole lot.)

Basically the rules are that so long as I stay in my room and don't got bonkers I'm allowed to stay, (I'm trying to work out a loophole for Alice but it isn't looking good.)

But so anyway, Michael came to visit me with some dinner that night.

Before that he'd already been acting weird, talking about there being a camera in my brain or some crap like that, so I was already unnerved. We came down and chatted for a bit and then...

I guess the correct way to word this was that he started to torment me. At first I thought that it was because he was trying to get me to open up or face some of the stuff that's been dragging me down lately. But he seemed so cheerful, he actually was enjoying himself.

And then he told me.

He wasn't Michael, he wasn't Nemo, he wasn't even No One.

He was a proxy.

He made a few threats, said he was going to leave.

I told him that I'd cause a riot, get the whole place's attention.

Torment, torment, torment,

He tried to attack me, and that somehow ended in him getting hit in the face with a lamp.

I tried to get out of the room, and lock him in.

I got the door open, but Elaine was standing there.

And he started shouting for help. And it sounded like him. And he sounded scared.

Elaine and him combined were enough to shove me back into the room. I could hear them talking on the other side of the door.

"What happened?"

"She tried to brain me with a lamp?"


That isn't him.

"Did you say anything?"

"I think she's finally flipped,"

That isn't him.

From the tiny windows in my room, I think I could see the lights of a car driving away a few hours later. Michael left.

And yesterday he seemed to spiral down even further when he woke up and realized all of what had happened.

I owe Michael a lot. I owe him for getting me away from the House, I owe him for sticking by me for most of this, and I owe him for being my friend.

And even though I am so furious with him, I'm scared for him.

I don't want him to go.

When he reads this, (and I know you are) I hope he realizes that you can care very much for a person, and still be angry with them at the same time.

I hope that he doesn't give up.

Because giving up is a horrible thing to do.

I realize that now.

- Opal

What Happened To Living In A Cave?

I've killed another person.

Granted this time I had a reason, one that I think most people would consider a good reason to kill a person. murderer, murderer, murderer, murderer, murderer, murderer, murderer, murderer, murderer, murderer, murderer. 

The family who rescued me from the well. Their daughter, Alice, was infected. Coincidence, Or..?

She told me that she'd only been living with the family for a short time; that her real parents had died when she was younger and that she'd been living as a foster child.

She told me she had nightmares about Him, not really understanding who He was or what that meant.

I didn't know what to do.

On the one hand I could've left and tried to deal with my own multiplying problems, or on the other hand I could've tried to help her and her family by calmly explaining the situation and enjoy a trip to an insane asylum. where who knows who else would die

I never really got to make that decision.

It was late afternoon if I remember right (don't count on that).

I'd been sort of half asleep, but I remember hearing a baby crying. This family has a small baby. I had watched him a few times while the mother went out, (baby sitting is weird,) so I recognized his cry pretty quickly.

I peaked out into the hall. There was a body lying on the floor. another one.

It was the father. His eyes were open. Why are they always staring?

I ran out to the garage as quickly as I could. Sure enough, there was a small shovel propped up against the wall.

Ran back in, practically smashed my way into the nursery.

There was the mother, bleeding out on the floor. Close your eyes, you aren't alive anymore.

Alice was pressed up against the back wall crouched over the baby. Why is wailing such a familiar noise?

There was a guy in a black mask standing there with a knife. At first I thought it was someone else.

I swung the shovel at him just as he turned to see who had come in.

Not a great swing seeing as how I was doing one handed, but it knocked him down all the same.

Told Alice to get out of the house. She was terrified, but she listened.

The proxy gave me a look from his place on the floor. "What the hell?"

I jammed the shovel into his side, and he winced. He grabbed the shovel and gave me an angry look, but then he stopped.

There was a tense pause where we just stared at each other.

He said something awful. Don't even think I can type it here. Dreamers Lie 


I think I heard myself snap, suddenly I was slamming the shovel down on top of him as hard as I could.

He was terrified. Like he'd seen a ghost.

Blow after blow after blow.

I heard a crunching noise in the background somewhere, and I was barely aware of the fact my arm (which was just broken before this) was shattering into pieces.

It didn't take long for him to die.  But what was it he said to you?

So did I kill a monster? Or am I the monster now? you aren't just human anymore

I left the shovel and ran at back, got the kids in the car, and drove. I think I was the only one who noticed that He was standing outside the house watching us.

If it hadn't been for the kids there I would've...I don't know what I would've done.

Something stupid probably.

There was only one place I could think to bring an infected Kid and a baby (who may or may not be infected now) that wouldn't end in the death of more innocent (or is it ignorant?) people.

I took them to Hope. It's safe so that's good for them.

I'm a bit of an unwelcome guest I suppose, so I should leave soon.

No more getting involved after this. Can't keep doing this.

- Opal I don't even want to know anymore. I'm too afraid to remember.

Screw Virginia

Virginia sucks. I'm going to Alabama.

Well you see, I was at a gas station. It was around 11:30 at night, so you can imagine it was pretty dark outside. I was just about to pay for my sandwich when the cashier started staring off in the distance. He asked me if I recognized that gray car in the lot. I told him I didn't. He said that the car has been passing the gas station for the past hour.

Now, I have been quite used to strange things lately, and I saw this as a warning sign. Just as I told the man to leave, there was a crash. The door swung violently and hit a metal shelf full of snacks that fell to the floor. And then I saw the guy in the gray mask from earlier. Surely he was the one with the car.

The first thing he did was go for the cashier. I suppose he didn't want him to call the police, or maybe he wanted to scare me, because the next thing I knew the cashier had several stab wounds in his stomach. By then I was at the end of the store, trying to open a nearby window to escape. But he grabbed me and pulled me back.

Next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor in the middle of the cereal aisle (and let me tell you, waking up to the Lucky Charms mascot is not fun) with a lump on my head. He only came to scare me.

Once I became aware of what happened, I used the store's phone to call the police. I assumed the cashier was dead, but I felt sick with the thought of having to check.

And this is the part I am not proud of.

Right after I called the police, I open the cash register and took out all of the money. I feel really bad about it, but I'm starting to run out, and no money means no gas, which means I'm a sitting duck.

So here I am, on my way to Alabama. By the way, I apologize for not writing anything in a while. Until last night, nothing really happened to me. It was probably the most peaceful few days I've had since this trip started.

And now a message to Opal:

Take care of yourself. It is not your fault that people get hurt, it is his fault. You cannot go around with an uncared-for broken arm, or you're going to get even more hurt. Please don't blame yourself.

-Anne

Black and Blue

I just knew that if I started to feel even the slightest bit more comfortable I was going to regret it.

Can you blame me though? Lately it seems that a lot of bloggers have hit a kind of plateau and have been doing a bit better. All this positive energy that's been going around definitely eased my nerves a little bit. Or maybe my lack of activity was just too boring.

Whatever the reason, the other night Ian payed me a visit.

It was relatively late, and while the library was still open it was empty except for me and one or two people at the front desk. I was sitting alone in the far corner of one section, not paying great attention to my surroundings, but I remember hearing footsteps. At first I thought it was another student who was up late as well, so I didn't look up. It wasn't until I felt someone right behind me that I spun around.

And there he was, grin and all. However he didn't look quite as smug as he did the last time I saw him. Aggy had knocked a few of his teeth out with the bat, and there was a nasty gash under his left eye.

"Hello darling, how was the vacation?"


It took all of a second for me to knock my chair in his direction and run towards the front door. Considering I was several flights of stairs away from the exit I'm impressed I made it as far as I did. I guess it really is true that you run faster when you're being fueled by adrenaline. But in case you haven't already guessed from the tone of this post I didn't manage to make it outside.

It wasn't because I didn't reach the door in time, oh no, I made it there fine. There was something waiting for me there when I got there.

Three bodies were lying in front of the door. They had all been on the staff at the library, I'd even made small talk with one of them after she'd helped me to find a book.

And here I thought I'd managed to harden myself to this kind of thing.

No. No. I don't want to become desensitized to death. But at the same time, I can't let it affect me so much. I couldn't move.

I skidded to a halt and fell backwards, I couldn't stop looking at it. All because of me.

How much blood is on my hands now?


I barely noticed when he came up behind me and lifted me to my feet by my shoulders.

"I swear," he sighed. I was vaguely aware that his hand was stroking my head. "You make this too easy sometimes,"

"Why?..." I asked.

It was an dumb question. I don't know what sort of answer I was expecting.

"Because I hate you Opal Jones," he snickered. "And because this is fun,"

"You sick bastard."

"Where was it Fitzgerald smashed your head in?"

Suddenly the stitches Doc sewed in were roughly yanked out of my head.

And that was the last thing I remember.

I woke up at the bottom of a well in New Jersey practically frozen to death.  Judging by my broken arm, and the fact I look like a black and blueberry, I must have been dropped in.

Eventually I was found and rescued by this teenager. She took me back to her house, and her family let spend the night.

 Lovely girl really, a little odd, but nice. And while she does bug me for a lot of details about myself, she hasn't yet asked exactly what I was doing at the bottom of a well, so I'm thankful for that.

And while her parents aren't around a lot, from what I've seen of them they seem nice.

What are you doing Opal? You're a walking time bomb.

I should be leaving. I should've left the minute I managed to walk more than a few feet without falling over. Unfortunately there's...a complication I suppose. I'll tell you about it later when I have a better idea of what's exactly is going on in this house.

I spent today cleaning my head up while no one was looking, and I've been trying to keep my arm still. When I get out of here I'll find a way to splint it.

I don't know what I'm going to do about the busted stitches.

Suppose it doesn't matter. It's not like I have to worry about it killing me.


- Opal

:)

Lets not get too comfortable darling? We wouldn't want that now would we?

Books

You can never really get enough of them can you?

True I've been getting a bit tired of the some of the dryer reads but I overall I've enjoyed it.

I also managed to salvage my love for 70's music, while in this glorious place. Queen is awesome.

I shouldn't be hanging here for too much longer though. I think there are some people who come here a lot who are starting to notice me, and I can't have that. I've been getting sicker too, so I know something is closing in on me.

Nemo mentioned the library system in New York City was one of the biggest library systems in the world. I might head there if things here get too dodgy. The only problem is that security is bound to be tighter in a place like that, so there won't be any sleeping inside.

Eh but who knows, maybe I'll get lucky and find something worth knowing there. 

Maybe I'll find a place that isn't freezing. This library is gets pretty cold at night.

Don't Stop Me Now,

- Opal

My New Residence

That's right, I've found a place to set up base for a little while. I'm very proud of it too.

I got some directions from a guy off the street and found a university library a little ways away from where I've been wandering around.

The place is easily the size of a football stadium or something, and twice as confusing and complicated. I spent last night here, and no one noticed me. The security isn't all the tight, (because honestly, who would break in to rob a public library?)

The other nice thing is that it's hours are pretty extended and I look like a student too, so no one is going to think twice about me while I'm reading. 

 I decided to pick up the research again, and it feels nice knowing I have something to do. Today I went browsing through a bunch of mythology texts but I didn't find anything that matched up. Tomorrow I might try and find something about Mental Viruses, that can spread through more than just genes. I don't know if such a thing exists or if there are any books on it but maybe I can connect some dots on my own. 

There's one thing that's been bugging me, and that's the fact that now that I becoming more active again, if that means that I'm going to start drawing more attention to myself again. If that's the case I might find myself library hopping.

I'll cross that bridge when I come to it though, right now I haven't been feeling too on-edge so I think I should be fine.

I left my phone charger at the House, so until I buy a new one I can't call Anne. She's been pretty quiet on the other end which is worrying me, especially with that post she had about the guy in the grey mask.

She's smart so I know she can avoid whatever is after her, but it makes me nervous.

I'll see if I can go get a charger soon. This place probably has a student union somewhere, and I'll find what I need there.

Talk to you soon,

- Opal

There's More?

Well in case you didn't notice I've been pretty woebegone for the last week or so.

And the way I've been acting, especially after that thing I posted last night, is really unacceptable.

So yeah, I suck, feel free to throw rocks, I'm a bad person.

And I guess I owe an apology to Corwin for being a bit of a smart mouth as well.

So last night I got drunk, (smart move there Opal) and basically made an angry post and unleashed some of my baggage on the side walk before falling asleep on a park bench.

And when I wake up?

Why I'm in a jail cell. Because that's what happens when you attack someone at Burger King and then turn up in a park totally wasted.

Aren't I just a genius? 

So basically what happened was that my little episode got caught on a security camera, and somehow the police managed to I.D. me.

Here's some fun information. I'm a missing person back home in Kansas.

So yeah, these two guys dragged me in last night, and this morning they actually brought a doctor in to see me if you can believe it.

Now I hate bad stereotypes. And one of the bad stereotypes I simply cannot stand is that people in authority do not know what they're doing, because could any of us really say we'd do any better. So when I say this guy was a complete and total shrink in every incompetent sense of the word, know that I'm not saying it lightly.

First of all he didn't even really bother to talk to me. He asked the police about me and concluded I was schizophrenic just from what they said. The whole process took him like ten minutes. Of course the whole fact the police had undeniable evidence that I'd gone crazy and started attacking people with a shovel seems like a dead give away, but he still shouldn't jump to conclusions.

Which is another thing I found hilarious about this police department. No one even bothered to walk in and ask me what I was thinking, or explain exactly what was going on. I would've been snarky to them about it but I had a bad case of hangover.

So they decided I was off my rocker, and were making plans to send me to a facility or something and wait until they could actually give me a 'proper' diagnosis (doh, not like we can just do that to begin with,) and I was all set to get shipped to the cuckoo's nest.

And then the phone rang.

Someone answered it, and there was a lot of whispering and glaring, and I wasn't paying a lot of attention.

And then one of the officers got up, and just let me go.

Just like that. Didn't even have to sign anything.

So I grabbed my stuff and walked off and here I am.

And now I find out that Anne is being stalked, and that we've been hacked again.

Anne avoid that guy, alright? Avoid him like the plague. And keep safe.

No more crazy though, and no more drinking and getting depressed.

Don't have the energy to keep doing that. Just have to stay grounded.

Sorry again,

- Opal

⊗

"⊗, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with y⊗u.
She is the fairies’ midwife, and she c⊗mes
In shape n⊗ bigger than an agate-st⊗ne
⊗n the f⊗re-finger ⊗f an alderman,
Drawn with a team ⊗f little at⊗mies
Athwart men's n⊗ses as they lie asleep;
Her wag⊗n-sp⊗kes made ⊗f l⊗ng spinners’ legs,
The c⊗ver ⊗f the wings ⊗f grassh⊗ppers,
The traces ⊗f the smallest spider's web,
The c⊗llars ⊗f the m⊗⊗nshine's wat'ry beams,
Her whip ⊗f cricket's b⊗ne; the lash ⊗f film;
Her wagg⊗ner a small grey-c⊗ated gnat,
N⊗t half s⊗ big as a r⊗und little w⊗rm
Pricked fr⊗m the lazy finger ⊗f a maid:
Her chari⊗t is an empty hazelnut
Made by the j⊗iner squirrel ⊗r ⊗ld grub,
Time ⊗ut ⊗’ mind the fairies’ c⊗achmakers.
And in this state she gall⊗ps night by night
Thr⊗ugh l⊗vers’ brains, and then they dream ⊗f l⊗ve;
⊗’er c⊗urtiers’ knees, that dream ⊗n c⊗urt'sies straight,
⊗’er lawyers’ fingers, wh⊗ straight dream ⊗n fees,
⊗’er ladies ‘ lips, wh⊗ straight ⊗n kisses dream,
Which ⊗ft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:
S⊗metime she gall⊗ps ⊗’er a c⊗urtier's n⊗se,
And then dreams he ⊗f smelling ⊗ut a suit;
And s⊗metime c⊗mes she with a tithe-pig's tail
Tickling a pars⊗n's n⊗se as a’ lies asleep,
Then dreams, he ⊗f an⊗ther benefice:
S⊗metime she driveth ⊗’er a s⊗ldier's neck,
And then dreams he ⊗f cutting f⊗reign thr⊗ats,
⊗f breaches, ambuscad⊗es, Spanish blades,
⊗f healths five-fath⊗m deep; and then an⊗n
Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
And being thus frighted swears a prayer ⊗r tw⊗
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
That plaits the manes ⊗f h⊗rses in the night,
And bakes the elfl⊗cks in f⊗ul sluttish hairs,
Which ⊗nce untangled, much misf⊗rtune b⊗des:
This is the hag, when maids lie ⊗n their backs,
That presses them and learns them first t⊗ bear,
Making them w⊗men ⊗f g⊗⊗d carriage:
This is she—"

Dear, it's time to stop playing pretend now. 

Heading East...

I'm sick of the West. So I've decided to start heading East. Currently I'm in Wisconsin, But I'm thinking of going a bit more South, like Virginia or North Carolina.

I saw him again. He was just in the distance by some trees, so I just kept driving. But what's really bothering me is another proxy that's been following me, as well. He's different from the one with the red mask. His mask is gray, and he seems shorter in stature. Anyway, I haven't seen him in a few days, so I'm assuming he's either taking a break, or he's really bad at his job. Either way I'm grateful. But if he does come back, I think the shovel's still in the trunk.

Dreamers often Lie

Things must be bad if I'm resorting to Romeo and Juliet lines for titles.

Of course that's not completly true.

Gosh that's such a great line though. It looks nice up there on the title doesn't it?

Mercutio, Mercutio, you were so awesome. Why did Romeo havr to waltz in and get you stabbed? Huh? Would have much rather seen a play about you and Benvolio, or was that Balthazar?

Hell if I can remember.

So lets see...

I've ben really...was it melancholy that Corwin called me? Yeah that was it.

Ha Ha! That's such a lame word. Whenever I think about I always picture someone eating cantaloupe.

I'm not so much running anymore as I am just wandering around aimlessly. I've gotten pretty grungy in the last few days, so I'm starting to look the part of homeless person. Can't remember the last time I bothered to eat, though I do remember that I managed to keep it down...whatever it was. Maybe it was cantaloupe. Maybe that's why I'm so melon...choly.

Did you see what I did there? Aren't I clever?

No. You're all to busy losing your minds to care about me and my melon puns.

Not that I would really care abut me either at this point.

Corwin was telling me about how what I'm doing right now isn't helping anyone and all that jazz, but honestly what has helping done?

Made things worse.

So I don't know what he's talking about, because obviously everything wouldn't be so screwed right now if Opal Jones had just ignored that damn air conditioner and listened to her friend when she told her that it would be safer if she moved out. 


...What's wrong with me? Why am I sitting here typing about this? And why am I going to post it later? Why am I walking around parks and watching people go about their regular lives like some kind of sick masochist who keeps taunting herself with things she can't have?

Why aren't I screaming and banging my head against a wall? Why am I so damn indifferent all of a sudden?

I killed Aggy. I killed Aggy. I killed Aggy!

What's wrong with me?

Why am I not completely broken?

I KILLED HER!!! I KILLED HER I KILLED HER AND THERE ISN'T ANYTHING LEFT!!

WHY CAN'T I JUST BURN!? WHY DO I HAVE TO JUST FREEZE OVER!?

why is there so much snow?

to much water hast thou...



Crap. Now my knuckles are all soar.

That's why we don't punch the ground when we are upset and drunk.

Although I suppose it's better than yelling at it and attacking it with a shovel.


You know what hell really is?

It's not some place where people are chained up and set on fire for eternity, oh no.

Hell isn't full of flames or rings.

It's just empty, and cold.

A eternity of freezing. Growing so cold you can't feel anything anymore. But while your body freezes your mind stays intact. Imagine spending an infinite amount of time alone with nothing but yourself, and the mistakes you've made.

There's not a thing you can do except curl up and bare it because you had it coming. But it isn't enough. All you want is pain, and fire. You know you deserve it, and you want it so badly. But no, all you can do is just sit and endure the cold.

Because no one even cares enough to give you the punishment you deserve.

That's hell.

Dream

I fell asleep.

Woke up just now. Have to type this quick. It's fading.

Had a memory in my sleep. Not a happy one.

That night, (or it was morning wasn't it,) the day Aggy died.

I had a dream about Spencer, and that place.

That whole night was mostly a blur, just snippets of images and feelings.

Me digging a hole,

Nemo on the ground, with the shovel spade to his neck.

My ears ringing with noise, my bones freezing.

My hand tightening around August's throat, and those sputtering noises he was making.

The crack I felt when Spencer finally got his hands on me. Blood, so much blood.

The way he looked at me, when he pulled me up.

I'm sure Spencer will be glad when he hears I've been seeing that in my nightmares.

But I remembered the East Wing. Bits and pieces.

It was so quiet.

Everything felt still.

Just nothingness.

Felt like bliss, and everything felt clear.


"...Life is torture..."

Me?

"The longer you live, the more corrupt and disgusting you become,"

Definitely me. But the words don't make sense.


"Not your choice to make,"

Spencer. His voice sounds wrong. It's so empty.


"I make it for me, because I'm a selfish coward. I don't deny what I am..."

How can I when even I'm not sure?


"Because you and me...you and I...like a cockroach..."

There was a slicing noise. Black blood.


"...Thought I'd escaped..."

Am I still bleeding? I can't feel anything.

"....Thought I was free..."


" You're never free from Him. His toy. Forever. For all time. We can't help you anymore."

So blurry, so dizzy. Should leave but I don't want to. I'm stalling.

"You don't exactly have a lot of time left,"

Spencer's face changes. He's grinning.

"When the time comes, I am going to enjoy watching you struggle for life as the light fades from your eyes. Who knows? Maybe Father will be there to keep you company...."

He's laughing.

Father?


"That's where we're different Spencer Fitzgerald,"


"...Just go."


I'm falling, the feeling is leaving.

I close the door. He's crying.

The world is spinning and I'm trying to do what he wants. I want to leave.


That's it. That's as far as it goes.


Couldn't let myself forget.


Have to start remembering. Can't forget.


"He who fights the monster should see to it that he himself does not become a monster. and if you gaze for long into an abyss..."

...

Nothing.

Sheesh...When did my brain get so screwed.

And that ladies and gentlemen, is the million dollar question.

Silence

Unless you count a few unpleasant comments on the blog, yesterday was a fairly normal day.

The weather was nice. No paranoid feelings, no nausea, not even a cough.

I didn't do a lot either. I just walked and thought.

I don't pity myself...and as wonderful as a freak comet hurtling downwards and crushing me would feel, I'm not going to sit here and talk about how much I want to die. If I went and died how pathetic would that be?

I'm going to live with my sins. I hope that's clear.

I can't keep pretending that I'm still the gutless waitress I was three months ago.

And I'm never going back to that train wreck of a person I've been as of late.


I should find a way to balance my scales.

For now I think it's best if I go away for a while, get my head straight.

Not sure about where I'm headed, but does it honestly matter?

Not sure when I'll be back either.



Anne, I can't be around you right now and it's not for my own good. I shouldn't have left in the first place. I'm so sorry.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

And typing it doesn't do any good.


 Keep yourself safe.

- Opal

...Where do I even begin?

I'm back...and I'm not totally crazy anymore so there's that to be thankful for.

And I'm in another Burger King if you can believe it. Not the same one mind you.

...And right now I wish...

I don't know what I wish.

Wish I could reverse time? Wish I was someone else?

Forget it. I don't wish anything.

I do however think it's high time I account for all my idiotic decisions, and for all the idiotic crap I've been doing this past week.

And where do we start? That day in the bathroom.

The overall facts of that day are a bit fuzzy, I was throwing up and there was blood and suddenly Mr. Smug Mug shows up.

And he pulled me through the path.

And I saw something in there...or realized something I guess...

...Remember when I said that there were things about my past I wasn't sure about? Like how I got infected and how long I'd actually been infected?

I was right when I said it must've been years, and I can't remember a single one of those years.

Never even realized I'd forgotten. I forgot everything...

I don't remember what my parents names were, or where they were from, or what they looked like, or if they were even still alive. I couldn't remember where I'd gone to school or what I did for the last 18 years of my life before college.

My whole life was missing and I had never noticed. Never even realized, that everything was made out of tiny bits and pieces that were nothing.


He took me through that path and I remembered though...and god...

When I woke up I was in the park, and it was all gone. I knew it had been there, I was trying to find it but there was nothing. It felt so empty.

He was sitting there, with that big fat grin on his face. And I recognized him.

He was Ian. That guy I worked with at the Diner.

"It all starting to come together now?" he asked. "That's good cause I was starting to get bored. Thought you were going to stay a clueless little twerp forever."

I must of looked so stupid. I didn't say anything I just was lying on the ground in shock. My whole...everything had just been pulled out from under me.

I had no idea who I was anymore.

"Why can't I remember?" I asked him. "Where did my life go?"

"I'd ask your friend," he told me. He handed me the damn Hamlet book. "She's alive, and you can see her on the last day of the month. The exact location is written in that book.

The location was the remains of my apartment in Kansas.

"What happens that day?" I asked him.

"You die," he smirked. It was a lie. A big fat dirty lie.

And I fell for it hook, line and sinker...


"No..." I said.

"It's been set in stone," he told me. "Your friend has known for a while now..."

"If I died now then you couldn't kill me then!" I told him. I tried to bite my tongue off. I really did. But he kicked me in the gut, and pried my mouth open.

"Why do you think no one has killed you yet?" he asked me. "You're weak and defenseless and you piss off everyone within several yards. Yet here you are, better of than practically everyone else in your situation."

Played me like a flute he did.

He left, and Anne found me, and I spent the rest of the day rolling in my own paranoia. And then Nemo was attacked.

I thought, "What the hell? I'm dying in 5 days, and Smirky isn't going to let me die before then, so why not try to help?"

So I left.

Taking the Path wasn't my original plan. But I thought...I thought that if I did it myself maybe I could remember something else. Long story short, it didn't work, and you already know how I ended up.

So then this happened.

And while yes Nemo is a horrible person for acting like he was going to shoot me, I wasn't that mad OK? Mad enough to slap him across the face yes, but no not mad enough to storm out of the house to my death.

I left because for the same reason I got out of that car the first time I saw Him.

Because I wanted to know what Aggy was keeping from me. Because I wanted to have all the memories I'd lost back. Because all of a sudden, everything felt hopeless and the walls were screaming at me 24/7 and I just wanted it to stop.

Because I thought that maybe Ian (if that's even his name) was counting on the fact that I'm a gutless pacifist, and I wouldn't pull that gun on him despite all my threats. Because I had a crazy plan to take him out and save Aggy.

Because I was doing exactly what a good little pawn should.

My apartment was empty when I got there. No more burnt furniture, no more scorch marks, or dead cat nailed to the wall. It was empty and waiting for a new occupant.

Ian was also there waiting.

"So you decided to show," he smirked.

"Where is Aggy?" I asked him.

"She'll be here soon," he said.

That's when I pulled the gun.

"I warned you," I told him.

He just laughed at me.

"Oh Opal Jones..." he said. "You are always so fun to toy with. You don't even realize."

I wasn't going to hear him out. I started to pull the trigger.

And then he was behind me, his arm around my neck. The gun knocked out of my hand.

"It's so funny how you keep thinking you have any say in how this turns out."

I think it's kind of funny too. For different reasons though, of course.


He turned me around so we were face to face.

"And it's funny how you keep trying to convince yourself that you can in fact keep living after this."

I spat in his eye, and found myself getting smacked across the face.

"Silly little Opal Jones..." he sighed wiping his face off. "Why is you runners never have a sense of class huh? It's always yelling and fighting with you, you never want to listen to a word His followers have to say."

"Well then say it!" I snapped. "I'm all ears..."

"No," he sighed. "No the dramatic tone is all gone. I'll have to wait for a more opportune moment." He shoved me into the ground and pulled me up by my hair.

"Just kill me then..." I told him.

"It's not even September 30th yet," he pouted. "We still have five minutes and Agatha isn't even here ye-"

And a baseball bat collided with his head, knocking him to ground.

"What was that you were saying?"

Aggy was standing in the doorway.

She hit him with the bat five or six more times. There was blood everywhere.

"Little whore..." he said.

She hit him again. "I've about had my fill of you, you bastard," she muttered.

Hit him again.

He was smiling the whole time.

"Only a minute til the last day of the month," he said, when she was coming up for another blow.

I was on the ground watching in shock as this happened. Just like a good little pawn.

"To bad you won't get to see it." Aggy brought the bat up for a final blow.

He opened the path.

And I remembered something I don't remember now.

And I shot Aggy.

Midnight on the dot.

I didn't see what happened to Ian. I'm assuming he escaped.

I just dropped the gun, and tried to catch Aggy before she fell.

"Aggy? Aggy?"

I don't need to say the rest do I?

She died with her eyes open. She was staring at me.

All this time, he wanted me to kill her. And I fell right into his hands.

I tried to bury her, but I didn't have the shovel. It was at the House.

I pulled her through the path and made it back.

Nemo was the one who found me out in the yard digging up a grave like a mad woman.

He knocked me out and took me back inside. I don't know what happened to Aggy's body.

When I woke up, this happened.

...Tried to kill August. Spencer cracked my head open and let me bleed out in his secret wing.

Can barely remember what happened.

He wasn't himself though.

Should've died. No I should've been gutted alive. Probably wouldn't even have complained.

He told me to leave, said I was never welcome back to the House.

Doc carried me to the basement and stitched me up, (I probably scared her half to death with all the crap that I must have been saying. I need to learn to shut up.)

 And in the morning I hitched a ride with Nemo to the outskirts of Vermont, (Tied up...)

...So here I am again.


Don't know where to go now. Can't go find Anne, can't stay here.

...I killed Aggy. I killed one of my only friends and I don't know why.

Tried to kill August. August...

What kind of person am I?

 That's right I don't know anymore.

...dammit.

...The walls aren't talking anymore.