I shouldn't even be writing in this thing. I really shouldn't... but Valerie has been bugging me to prove my continued existence so you guys don't think she's lost it. So, here you go. Proven. I'm back. In more ways that one, as you can tell. The spacebar is a wonderous invention, eh? ...Heh. Can't even read my own goddamn ramblings...
What's there to even say? I lost. I lost everything. Every-fucking-thing. No, I shouldn't say that. I got one thing... two things back. Least that's something. And I can be what I Promised now. I can protectHakurei Valerie. And I'll do so no matter what the cost. That's the most important thing at this point. I may have been torn apart, but that doesn't mean the same thing has to happen to her. Fucking hell, I can at least do that much right, can't I? No, I don't have a choice. I will protect her. I'll keep her safe. Just like I said I would way back before... well, before I lost my grip.
Goddammit, I hate this blog. I re-read the entire thing. Every post I had put up only succeeded in pissing me off more. Not just the subjects either. It's that good for nothing goddamn banner of all things. A blood moon? Oh, yeah, I'm sure I thought that looked abso-fucking-lutely beautiful back when it didn't remind me of my brother getting shoved into an auger and the screams that are still caught in my head or my dad getting stabbed to the point where I could see right goddamn through him or the barn burning and now my shoulder is throbbing and burning and fucking goddamn shit.... there... there wasn't a damn thing I could do. I tried. I tried. But it didn't help. Nothing I did... it only ever made it worse. I didn't even... talk about half of what happened on here. I didn't want to talk about it. I'm... not even sure whether it was Him who took Tanya and Hailey... or if it was me. I just don't know. I don't goddamn know... Kent just broke, he... fuck, Kent. I haven't even been thinking about Kent...
I... wonder if he's another piece I need to add to my necklace. I've been wearing it since That Night. Just a chain necklace with metal washers hanging on it. One for every life that ended because I've been living mine. It already has too many pieces. Goddammit, I don't want to add another, Kent, you jerk. Be okay.
...
...I won't change the banner. Can't. I was going to, but then I realized I was just running away in so doing. I have to keep it. If I'm going to be back on here again, I need the reminder. The reminder that my job isn't finished. What happened That Night isn't finished. This blog is... sort of the tombstone of my family now. Of the farm. Of my friends. Of what really happened. Not what the police reports will/do say. Not whatever bullshit the people that protect Him and Them will come up with. This is the truth.
Bloody hell, I don't even know how much sense this all makes. Sorry. I really shouldn't be on here. I'm still sort of... up and down. Kinda comes and goes in waves. But I've been... somewhat levelish mentally for about a month now, I guess. It's been hard keeping track of dates, but I'd say it's been about a month since I started getting... well, clearer. Before then, the only thing I really occupied my time with was my sketchbook. When I wasn't moving, I was drawing. Things I saw, things I dreamt, things I hallucinated, or just random scribbles. Kept me from losing myself completely. Helped me figure out what was real and what was, well, mindfuckery. Had to remember who I goddamn was since the Black King seemed to decide that wasn't necessary information. Don't think I even knew my own name at one point...
Went back to the farm after I had enough mental awareness to come up with the idea. I had left without a damn thing, so I had a check-list to fill in. The place had been cleaned up mostly, but it honestly didn't matter. Everywhere I looked my mind just continued painting it with the light of a full moon, gallons of blood, the hellish glow of flames, and the sound of gunshots and screaming and it got so loud, so fucking loud, I can't get it out of my head. I just want it OUT. It cracks my skull open and it just gets louder and louder... I... couldn't stay long. Grabbed what I had to and got the fuck out.
Tracked down an old friend who I planned to crucify. Literally. Still will, when I get the chance. Met up with the bastard on the opposite side of a chain-link fence. At a park. Guess good ol' Christian figured I wasn't so reckless to pull a gun or some shit with kids around. He was right. Threw the pitch at me. Told me things I already knew. Then he gave me a parting gift and left. Won't be the last time I see him, that's for damn certain. But I had other business to take care of. I couldn't concentrate anymore. I had a question that could only be answered by actually leaving Canada altogether: Whether or not Valerie was still alive.
If she was, I knew she wouldn't want to see me.
If she wasn't, I knew it was my fault.
Either way... I had to know. So I grabbed my passport and made for the border. I made the trip on foot. Took some public transport once or twice, but being around large groups of people made me feel choked, so... I walked. And ran. There was definitely some running. The whole thing took nearly a week... but I got there in the end. Took every nerve I had to ring that goddamn doorbell. Valerie answered it herself. Not a grieving mother or father or brother. Valerie.
I froze. Just... froze. I honestly had no clue what to say at that point. There was a long, awkward moment of complete silence and then the next thing I knew she was hugging me. She actually hugged me. Well, it was sort of a tackle-ish hug... and, to put me even further out of my comfort-zone, she was crying. To say I was caught off-guard would be the understatement of the goddamn century, but I did hug her back. Awkwardly. I'm not exactly good with... close things, so... yeah.
I've now been at her place for a few days. Feels odd to stay in one spot. I've already gone for a few walks around the neighbourhood just to get a feel for the area and move a little. Valerie has been accompanying me. I think she's afraid I'll disappear or something if she leaves me alone. It's strange to have company, but it's a good kind of strange.
She's told me about the filter. Shown me the Followers and the Comments. It took a while for that to... really process mentally, I guess. Whatever block I had before, it seems to be gone now. I've read everything that was sent to me. No comment for any of it, honestly. Don't see the point after over two months. Actually, the number of you now Following this has me confused as all hell... and slightly intimidated. '28' is a rather large jump from the '0' I had in my so-called "Void," you know. In any case, I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to remind myself of who I am... and what purpose I have now. Why I have to keep pushing onward. I have new Promises to keep, you see. Promises that I made while Running.
#2) Never give in. Not to Him. Not to the One who tried to drown me in my own head. Not to the One who threw me into darkest pit my own mind had to offer and watched with amusement as I crumbled apart, as I broke apart, as my entire life burned in a goddamn inferno, as I watched everything I ever cared for get bathed red. No. For every hallucination He dragged me through. For every breath He denied me. For everyone He took away from me... He will gain nothing.
#3) Smother. The. False. Light. Morningstar. The tool. The rabid dog. The spineless, fucking maggot that uses the being known as Slender Man as his crutch to justify his own existence. This one... this one is mine. This one human... is one that I want to watch the spark drain from their eyes. I want to hold his fucking heart in my hand as I feel it come to a stop. He will suffer. Then, when I'm ready to allow it, he will die. And I will enjoy it. Immensely.
To the rest of you... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for lashing out. This place... this blog... was originally made specifically to give me somewhere to rant... but that won't work anymore. I get it. I shouldn't even be here... but I am. And I'm not hiding. I've done that enough. I can't pretend to be something I'm not. I can't pretend the rage isn't there. I can't pretend that there isn't something wrong with me. But I also can't pretend that's all I am. A double-edged knife. I do have a lighter shade of gray. He's been trying to make me forget, but it is still there. So... if I write on here, I will be honest. That's a new Promise for here and now. Number four.
This is only the beginning. I won't let what happened at home happen again. Not again. Never again. I won't lose anyone else. Because I only have one to protect. Only one to keep safe. Only one to focus on. I'll protect Valerie. She's told me about her encounters so far, but I swear I'll protect her until my guts splatter to the ground at my feet. Until my hands grow numb and weak and my legs give-out. Until my bones snap and my skin peels off. Until then, I won't stop. I'll never stop.
...
I miss them all so much. Seems like an eternity now. Hasn't even been two months yet...
What's there to even say? I lost. I lost everything. Every-fucking-thing. No, I shouldn't say that. I got one thing... two things back. Least that's something. And I can be what I Promised now. I can protect
Goddammit, I hate this blog. I re-read the entire thing. Every post I had put up only succeeded in pissing me off more. Not just the subjects either. It's that good for nothing goddamn banner of all things. A blood moon? Oh, yeah, I'm sure I thought that looked abso-fucking-lutely beautiful back when it didn't remind me of my brother getting shoved into an auger and the screams that are still caught in my head or my dad getting stabbed to the point where I could see right goddamn through him or the barn burning and now my shoulder is throbbing and burning and fucking goddamn shit.... there... there wasn't a damn thing I could do. I tried. I tried. But it didn't help. Nothing I did... it only ever made it worse. I didn't even... talk about half of what happened on here. I didn't want to talk about it. I'm... not even sure whether it was Him who took Tanya and Hailey... or if it was me. I just don't know. I don't goddamn know... Kent just broke, he... fuck, Kent. I haven't even been thinking about Kent...
I... wonder if he's another piece I need to add to my necklace. I've been wearing it since That Night. Just a chain necklace with metal washers hanging on it. One for every life that ended because I've been living mine. It already has too many pieces. Goddammit, I don't want to add another, Kent, you jerk. Be okay.
...
...I won't change the banner. Can't. I was going to, but then I realized I was just running away in so doing. I have to keep it. If I'm going to be back on here again, I need the reminder. The reminder that my job isn't finished. What happened That Night isn't finished. This blog is... sort of the tombstone of my family now. Of the farm. Of my friends. Of what really happened. Not what the police reports will/do say. Not whatever bullshit the people that protect Him and Them will come up with. This is the truth.
Bloody hell, I don't even know how much sense this all makes. Sorry. I really shouldn't be on here. I'm still sort of... up and down. Kinda comes and goes in waves. But I've been... somewhat levelish mentally for about a month now, I guess. It's been hard keeping track of dates, but I'd say it's been about a month since I started getting... well, clearer. Before then, the only thing I really occupied my time with was my sketchbook. When I wasn't moving, I was drawing. Things I saw, things I dreamt, things I hallucinated, or just random scribbles. Kept me from losing myself completely. Helped me figure out what was real and what was, well, mindfuckery. Had to remember who I goddamn was since the Black King seemed to decide that wasn't necessary information. Don't think I even knew my own name at one point...
Went back to the farm after I had enough mental awareness to come up with the idea. I had left without a damn thing, so I had a check-list to fill in. The place had been cleaned up mostly, but it honestly didn't matter. Everywhere I looked my mind just continued painting it with the light of a full moon, gallons of blood, the hellish glow of flames, and the sound of gunshots and screaming and it got so loud, so fucking loud, I can't get it out of my head. I just want it OUT. It cracks my skull open and it just gets louder and louder... I... couldn't stay long. Grabbed what I had to and got the fuck out.
Tracked down an old friend who I planned to crucify. Literally. Still will, when I get the chance. Met up with the bastard on the opposite side of a chain-link fence. At a park. Guess good ol' Christian figured I wasn't so reckless to pull a gun or some shit with kids around. He was right. Threw the pitch at me. Told me things I already knew. Then he gave me a parting gift and left. Won't be the last time I see him, that's for damn certain. But I had other business to take care of. I couldn't concentrate anymore. I had a question that could only be answered by actually leaving Canada altogether: Whether or not Valerie was still alive.
If she was, I knew she wouldn't want to see me.
If she wasn't, I knew it was my fault.
Either way... I had to know. So I grabbed my passport and made for the border. I made the trip on foot. Took some public transport once or twice, but being around large groups of people made me feel choked, so... I walked. And ran. There was definitely some running. The whole thing took nearly a week... but I got there in the end. Took every nerve I had to ring that goddamn doorbell. Valerie answered it herself. Not a grieving mother or father or brother. Valerie.
I froze. Just... froze. I honestly had no clue what to say at that point. There was a long, awkward moment of complete silence and then the next thing I knew she was hugging me. She actually hugged me. Well, it was sort of a tackle-ish hug... and, to put me even further out of my comfort-zone, she was crying. To say I was caught off-guard would be the understatement of the goddamn century, but I did hug her back. Awkwardly. I'm not exactly good with... close things, so... yeah.
I've now been at her place for a few days. Feels odd to stay in one spot. I've already gone for a few walks around the neighbourhood just to get a feel for the area and move a little. Valerie has been accompanying me. I think she's afraid I'll disappear or something if she leaves me alone. It's strange to have company, but it's a good kind of strange.
She's told me about the filter. Shown me the Followers and the Comments. It took a while for that to... really process mentally, I guess. Whatever block I had before, it seems to be gone now. I've read everything that was sent to me. No comment for any of it, honestly. Don't see the point after over two months. Actually, the number of you now Following this has me confused as all hell... and slightly intimidated. '28' is a rather large jump from the '0' I had in my so-called "Void," you know. In any case, I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to remind myself of who I am... and what purpose I have now. Why I have to keep pushing onward. I have new Promises to keep, you see. Promises that I made while Running.
#2) Never give in. Not to Him. Not to the One who tried to drown me in my own head. Not to the One who threw me into darkest pit my own mind had to offer and watched with amusement as I crumbled apart, as I broke apart, as my entire life burned in a goddamn inferno, as I watched everything I ever cared for get bathed red. No. For every hallucination He dragged me through. For every breath He denied me. For everyone He took away from me... He will gain nothing.
#3) Smother. The. False. Light. Morningstar. The tool. The rabid dog. The spineless, fucking maggot that uses the being known as Slender Man as his crutch to justify his own existence. This one... this one is mine. This one human... is one that I want to watch the spark drain from their eyes. I want to hold his fucking heart in my hand as I feel it come to a stop. He will suffer. Then, when I'm ready to allow it, he will die. And I will enjoy it. Immensely.
To the rest of you... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for lashing out. This place... this blog... was originally made specifically to give me somewhere to rant... but that won't work anymore. I get it. I shouldn't even be here... but I am. And I'm not hiding. I've done that enough. I can't pretend to be something I'm not. I can't pretend the rage isn't there. I can't pretend that there isn't something wrong with me. But I also can't pretend that's all I am. A double-edged knife. I do have a lighter shade of gray. He's been trying to make me forget, but it is still there. So... if I write on here, I will be honest. That's a new Promise for here and now. Number four.
This is only the beginning. I won't let what happened at home happen again. Not again. Never again. I won't lose anyone else. Because I only have one to protect. Only one to keep safe. Only one to focus on. I'll protect Valerie. She's told me about her encounters so far, but I swear I'll protect her until my guts splatter to the ground at my feet. Until my hands grow numb and weak and my legs give-out. Until my bones snap and my skin peels off. Until then, I won't stop. I'll never stop.
...
I miss them all so much. Seems like an eternity now. Hasn't even been two months yet...
