Baggataway

Bogie's dead.

Or, no, let's be more specific about that, shall we? Bogie was TORN to fucking SHREDS and GUTTED and it's MY fucking FAULT. His entire paddock was just... everything was red. How the hell long did Bogie survive while He...? Goddammit... godfuckingDAMMIT!! He was a horse, you stupid FUCK! An ANIMAL! HE HAD NO FUCKING PART IN THIS AND YOU... what? Did it make you feel strong, you piece of shit? Did Bogie hurt your pride when he kicked you? I HOPE HE LEFT A GODDAMN IMPRINT, YOU BITCH! That's HIS contribution!!!

FUCKING... I just... it's too much, you know? Bogie was like a little brother to me and you... you guys... I did appreciate your messages on my last post (except you Twinkle - you can go freeze to death in a goddamn snowbank) so I think the least I can do is tell you what happened...

I had spent most of last night in Bogie's stall with him - don't bitch at me, it's not like the house itself is some safe-haven. I knew He was around, but He never came into the barn. He just... moved around the outside of it. Mocking me, I think. Morning came. I knew I had to get some things together in town if I was going to get Bogie through this, so I used what I had handy before turning the horses outside as I always do. I used three bags of rock salt that we had left over from the winter to outline his paddock, then used a fourth to make piles at the four corners. I also tied my Ankh pendant onto Bogie's halter - eternal life, right? And salt is supposed to be a "pure substance" or something... apparently not pure enough...

Spent a while tracking down other things in town that are supposed to do the trick with negative presences or whatever the hell you want to call it. Sage, rosemary, freshly ground cinnamon... I even got together a few crystals like what Kay had mentioned in her blog though those were a bitch to find. I got home before noon and everything was still okay. The horses didn't even seem nervous. I put an assortment of things into two tiny bags I'd bought and tied it to each side of his halter, duck taping it around the strap to keep it from swaying around and bugging him. I didn't care what out of it worked. Just as long as something did. I was putting faith in whatever the hell I could...

I've never been one for faith...

I wasn't there when He came. I was out. I should have been there... I could have done something. ANYTHING. But no... I just got a present dropped off for me. I knew before I even got home - I just didn't want to believe it. I couldn't believe it. Not until I saw it for myself... and now I can't STOP seeing it. It's there every time I close my eyes... .

It was early afternoon. I'd gone to a friend's house. Tricked there, actually, because I've been trying to break off contact... but she said it was important. She said she needed to talk to me, something about this girl (demon bitch) we once knew named Justin. Because of the hellish drama that had happened last year and how my friend was almost destroyed by the betrayal, I felt I had no choice but to go. I was the only other person who understood what she was talking about since darling Justin had gone cut-throat with me as well - everyone else alive thinks the bitch is God's Gift to Humanity. I was seething when I walked into her house (who the hell knocks at a friend's house?), thinking of all the possible ways Justin could have turned things upside-down again and I was already stressed to the nines to begin with... but it was a goddamn lie. Tanya (I call her Spiky) thought it was pretty ingenious, actually. I'd been avoiding her and she knew it, but she also knew THAT was one subject I'd turn up at her door to help her with no matter what was going on in my life. Stupid, yes, but I never claimed to be smart. I claimed to be loyal and that's what bit me in the ass.

Needless to say, we had a bit of an argument. She was ragging on me about walling myself off in my own corner of the universe constantly and I was trying to tell her to trust me and let me do what I had to because NOW just wasn't a good fucking time. Stalemate, in other words.

Then she said those fatal words: "Did I do something to upset you?"

Have any of you ever told someone "it's not you, it's me" without it coming out sounding forced and cliched? I couldn't do it. My words just sounded so fake I wanted to punch myself. I tried to explain myself without explaining the situation I was in and... I hated myself for every word that came out. But then I noticed something odd. Hailey - Spiky's three year old kid - was staring out the front window, giggling, across the room. My mind immediately snapped, but in what seemed like a blink of time... the door was open and Hailey ran outside. Both Tanya and I bolted after her - her concern probably being the road, mine being... a much worse threat. We didn't have to run far - Hailey was right outside the door.

Hailey was hugging Zeddy to her chest. Fucking. ZEDDY. And... dammit... there was so much blood. The bear was DRIPPING with blood, making a puddle by the kid's feet - like it had been soaked in it for fuck's sake. Tanya was absolutely freaking - swearing and screaming bloody murder as she ripped the toy away from her kid's arms - and I just... I couldn't stop staring at that fucking bear. I felt like I was stuck in a nightmare. This is the bullshit that Hollywood dreams up - this kind of shit isn't REAL - shouldn't be REAL...

"Hailey, where did you get this thing?!" Tanya had blown a fuse. I can't blame her.

The kid, front covered in blood, smiled. Fucking. SMILED. "The Tall Man!" She said, as if obvious.

A second later I'd ripped the toy out of Tanya's arms and was bolting down the stairs of her duplex. She was yelling after me - demanding to know what the HELL was going on. The only thing I yelled back was for them to get the fuck back in the house. It was the first time I'd ever spoken to her like that. It was also the first time I ever spun the wheels on my car as I took off.

I got home and immediately ran for the Back Barn, ignoring all else. What I saw... I can't even describe it. I don't really want to. It was... a slaughter. Bogie had been... taken apart. His guts were everywhere. His eyes were still open... staring at me dully... my boy... fuck, I just... I can't get it out of my head... I can't...

Goddamn Him. GODFUCKINGDAMN HIM. He waited, didn't He? He waited... and then I gave Him the best opening possible. What have I done....? I should have been there...
My... parents have the police involved now. Wonder how long it's going to take for them to ask about the salt...

It's taken me since then to write this out. My hands won't stop shaking but... I can't get sidetracked. I can't let myself forget what else is coming. I lost Bogie today... but the next target has been made obvious. I don't care what the odds are - He ISN'T getting Hailey and He isn't using MY GODDAMN CHILDHOOD TOY while trying to do it!! In the morning, I'm burning the damn thing. I've had enough. He's going to have to try a different game... unless He wants to move around a pile of fucking SOOT.

Baggataway, aka "Bogie"

June 7th, 1999 - May 11th, 2011

I'll miss you.