How many times can a person be kicked in the teeth before they simply give up? So many of you out there are either Stepford Smiling or just have some kind of a mental block that keeps our existence from getting to you. Sometimes I wonder how many of you are even real. Because there is no reason you should be laughing and smiling. There is nothing left in our lives except for it and its minions and the games that they play with us.

I suppose I should actually explain my current state of bitterness, shouldn’t I? I took Ryuu and Nick’s advice. I went out on a date with Ryan. The plan was simple. Go out, try to have some fun, and then let him down politely. Simple right?

Only not a single thing went the way it was supposed to. I couldn’t relax at all during dinner. The only thing that made me feel even slightly comfortable was being able to reach into my purse and touch the bottle of pepper spray I had in there, or to put my hand under the table and feel the knife I had strapped to my leg under my skirt. I had nothing to talk about. He asked about books and I don’t read books anymore only blogs. He asked about movies and tv shows and all I watch are the vlogs of our fellow stalked. He asked about family and what was I supposed to tell him? A brother on the run from a Cosmic Horror and two dead godchildren?

The whole dinner was awkward and miserable for me. He would ask questions, I would mutter some half assed response, and then go silent until he asked another question. I was so miserable that I couldn’t even enjoy the food and it was a pretty good restaurant, one I used to enjoy before…well before everything. It was a huge relief when the check came. I assumed that I wouldn’t even need to let him down, that I had been such a horrible date he would be dying to get away from me.

Instead he asked me if I wanted to take a walk down the strip. I was surprised to say the least. Maybe I hadn’t wrecked it. Maybe I was still capable of being a worthwhile human being after all, instead of just a paranoid wreck of a woman. It’s not so much that I wanted to be a great date for Ryan. Logically I knew that if I was bad date it would be simpler to get him to stay away from me, from the nightmare that is my life. But well…I do have some pride. What woman wants to be remembered as the worst date ever?

We walked down the main strip. It was a humid night, but not as hot as it’s been. I started talking a bit, and before I knew it I was actually having a real conversation. I told him that I was between jobs at the moment and debating trying my hand as writer. It was about as close as I could come to the truth without getting into far too many details that would be detrimental to him and well, let’s face it, the details of what Tom did to me still fill me with shame. I don’t know if that is something that will ever change.

I was handling things pretty well until we got near the park. I saw the trees and froze with my paranoia back in full force. Did he bring me to the park on purpose? Was he the half assed proxy that has lately taken to making my life annoying? I tried to pull away from Ryan, who was not looking confused. Instead, he looked eager.

I turned and bolted, running as fast as I could. Smart me, I wore a pair of sensible shoes instead of heels. And as always seems to happen in these adrenaline fueled situations, the little details were so clear. The rasp of my breath as I started to breathe heavier, my hair rising off of my shoulders and back by the momentum, and the sound of two pairs of feet slapping against the sidewalk. He was chasing me, I was so stupid, my instincts said don’t do it but I listened to Ryuu instead and now I was going to pay for not trusting myself.

I turned a corner and there was the creature. I barely managed to stop myself from running right into it. I could hear Ryan coming up behind me, I was sandwiched in between the two of them. No matter which one grabbed me first, I was about to pay for my idiocy of actually thinking I could give myself a life.

Ryan rounded the corner and I held my breath waiting for the inevitable. To be attacked or for Ryan to start babbling crazy proxy talk. Because that’s the last thing we all want to hear before we die right? About how their Father or Master or whichever name is the flavor of their crazy will be served and sacrificed to.

But I was wrong. Ryan didn’t start babbling. Instead he started screaming. You know the one. That scream that we all let out the first time we saw it whether out loud or in our heads. The one that begs for it to go away and tries to deny what you are actually seeing. Terror and insanity and denial and pain all mixed into one primal scream of anguish.

It looked at us for a moment before swinging one of its tentacles at Ryan, a forward strike that would have gone straight through his face while he stood there screaming. I ran forward and tackled him as hard as I could. He hit the ground and I heard a dull thud as his head smacked the sidewalk. I pushed myself to my knees and made yet another mistake. I looked up at it.

And again it felt like an eternity that we looked at each other. I could feel the tears running down my cheeks. I am just so tired. I want to give up. I want to rest. I want to walk into its embrace and just let it end me. But Ryan was on the ground next to me whimpering. There’s always something holding me back from peace. Lucien, Ryuu, Nick, Cathy. Always someone preventing me from finally being out of this.

Anyway, Ryan was whimpering and it turned its attention away from me and looked at him instead. I grabbed his arm and dragged him to his feet, screaming at him to run. We ran, me dragging him along until I reached my car. I shoved him into my passenger seat, got into my side and drove off.

When I pulled over I had no idea what I was going to tell him. Apologize? Try to explain what it was? As it turned out I didn’t have to say anything. Ryan sat in the seat next to me and started laughing, high and hysterical.

“I knew it!” he said. “I knew that you were the right one! I knew that if I found you I would find the Slender Man!”

He was never actually interested in any kind of a date. I was a means to an end, in this case finding and seeing the monster.

I can’t do this right now. I’ll finish the story later.

It gets harder and harder to think of myself as being a part of other people. Every time I see it, every day I live like this just makes me feel more and more outside of everything, even the other bloggers. So I have to admit, I was hopeful about going out. That maybe for a little bit I could just feel something again, be a person, not a concept, not an abstract idea on a blog. That maybe Ryuu and Nick were right about still being able to be happy, to have a life that is real.

I was so fucking stupid. And I don't even know why I keep going anymore.

I can't talk about this right now. 

Someone tried to set my house on fire last night. They threw a gods damn Molotov cocktail at my window. I didn’t even know people actually make Molotov cocktails! I thought they were a gods damned movie cliché!

I got lucky. The bottle actually bounced off my window and landed in my lilac bush. Said bush is now a pile of char, but my neighbor saw it burning and called the fire department.

The fire department came and the police weren’t far behind them. After they put out my bush and found the remnants of the glass bottle, they did a sweep of the area and discovered a second one. Under my car. They think that it was supposed to set my car on fire but that for some reason the wick didn’t catch. The police think that I’m being targeted because of what happened with Tom. They’re probably right, but what are they gonna do? They might be able to catch this proxy, but what about the next one? And the next one? And what happens when the faceless one himself shows up?

My current assumption is that whichever proxy called me the other night decided to step up their efforts. But hey if all proxies were as ineffective as this one, we’d all be a hell of a lot safer, right? I mean what have they managed to do? One mildly disturbing phone call and two homemade grenades, one that barely did any damage and the other that did none at all. Let’s all hope that the downgrade in quality is not just a fluke.

Rough Night

I woke up around seven last night. Normal wake up time. After the past few months, I don’t sleep for more than two or three hours at a time so I just nap whenever I’m tired as opposed to a nightly bedtime. I stopped hearing that music even when it shows up to play peek a boo so I can’t say that’s what wakes me up these days. I think maybe it gave up on that aspect of torturing me, around the same time that I got kidnapped by Tom actually. Anyway, I don’t wake up hearing it anymore, but my body is still trained at this point to wake up at the slightest noise or just feeling that something might be off.

Last night it was that off feeling. I wish I could explain it better. There was no goose bumps, hairs standing up on the back of my neck, none of those little signs that the horror novels like to use. All I had was a feeling that things had gotten worse. And considering how badly things have gone in the past few months, this was not a welcome feeling.

I got out of bed and grabbed the knife that I’ve started keeping with me. For the info of any its pets that might be reading this blog, I keep all kinds of toys around my house lately that would be detrimental to your health if you decide to try and break in.

I took the knife and started flicking on lights, trying to find out what had caused me to wake up. Didn’t see anything until I got downstairs where my favorite stalker stood in front of my picture window, watching, waiting for whatever it is that it waits for.

I watched it and it watched me, and it put one of its not hands on my window. And I’m not sure what made me think I should but I stepped forward and placed my hand against the window.

Time often seems to go wrong when it’s involved. It moves too fast or it moves too quickly. Even when you’re not being trapped you’re in another dimension, or hallucinating that you’re in one, whatever you want to believe about the places I’ve seen, the point is that even in the most mundane of settings, my own home, the time doesn’t move right when it’s around.

I don’t know how long we stood there, nothing but a sheet of glass separating me from it. And it was just so tempting. No music in my head, no voices, just my own tiredness. How nice it would be for all of this to be over. To not have to fight anymore, not have to worry, not have to care. I just want to be able to sleep. To not be scared anymore.

But I knew that if I did that it would hurt too many people. I can’t really bring myself to care that much about myself anymore, but I couldn’t stop loving my family and friends if I tried. Even the ones I walked away from to try and keep them safe when I started this nightmare. Especially them.

So I pulled my hand away from the glass and walked backwards, keeping my eyes on it until the moment that my cell phone rang and scared me so badly I tripped and fell on the floor. When I glanced back up at the window it was gone. Wish I had teleport at will abilities, don’t you?

My phone was still ringing. Unknown number at…was it really only 7:39? Like I said, time goes strange when our stalker shows up. I could have sworn we had been staring at each other for hours. I normally don’t answer calls from unknowns, but I thought that perhaps I could repay whoever it was for interrupting my staring contest by at least answering.

That turned out to be a mistake. I am assuming that one of its pets had somehow tracked down my cell phone number because the voice whispering to me on the line was disturbing and mad. Not angry mad. Insane mad. Whoever it was whispered the whole time, making it impossible for me to try and memorize the voice or see if I recognized someone else from my past. Thanks the gods there is no one else like Tom for me to worry about, but still. You never know who will become a target because of me.

The voice whispered vile things about what happened to me when Tom kidnapped me, told me that my suffering would continue, how I would pay for what I did. Of course the voice neglected to tell what exactly I did. I assume it is the same crime as always, refusing to lie down and let any of the monsters that have been part of my life kill me.

After a minute of being frozen in horror, I pulled my wits together and hung up the phone. I should have hung up sooner, but having one’s torture used as an opening subject isn’t something that is easy to ignore. Of course moments after I hung up, it rang again. And again. And again.

I managed to last about ten minutes before I finally couldn’t take it anymore and answered the phone, screaming “Fuck off!” as my greeting. Everything was silent for a moment before a very confused voice spoke.

“Do I have the right number? I was trying to reach Kay, I met her at the grocery store the other day.” said a distinctly not whispering male voice. I probably should have checked my caller id first instead of just assuming it was still whispering loon. Instead it was Ryan. I am on a total roll with this guy, aren’t I?

I apologized; gave him a bullshit story about getting harassed by some kids in the neighborhood. It makes me sad how good I’ve gotten at lying. My mother used to say that she could catch me whenever I lied because I was incapable of disguising my voice and face. Well I must at least be better with my voice because he accepted my story pretty easily, was all kinds of sympathetic about it. He then offered to call me today instead which again left me completely flustered. What is wrong with him? When I met him I attacked him and he asked for my phone number. He called me, I cursed him off, and he offered to call me back.

I guess my reaction to this situation is just another way I fail. Can’t do much of anything right lately. Can’t do right in a normal life, can’t do right in an abnormal one. It just all feels the same.

What happened to me? I wasn’t the most well-adjusted woman in the world when I started this blog, but when did I become a stuttering social reject? This is just ridiculous, if I can fight monsters and survive parallel dimensions, why can’t I talk to another person like a human being?

Amal Sage and Ryuu have made noises about coming over this week so I decided to run out to the grocery store. It’s nice to have an excuse to buy fancy ingredients for yummy food that I wouldn’t normally make when I’m by myself. A normal simple trip to the grocery store. It shouldn’t be anything special right?

Except that I never leave the house anymore. Deities, I don’t even feel like a person anymore. I went outside to collect my mail the other day and my neighbor was outside. She tried to start up a conversation about her garden. I just stared at her. A garden? How could I talk about something as simple as a garden? There is no simple anymore. It’s all crazed murderers and cosmic horrors, broken hearts and tragic deaths.

There is no such thing as a simple trip to the grocery store. It involves a couple of hours of going back and forth, arguing with myself. Telling myself that I can spend the extra money to shop online and have it delivered, that I don’t need to go out and deal with a world that doesn’t make sense to me anymore. And then reminding myself that I only have a few months left on my severance package and I need to save every penny I’ve got. After I get the finances argument out of the way I then have to spend at least an hour dragging my feet about getting in the shower, doing something with the bird’s nest that sits on top of my head. I may not be a very pretty woman, but I do have some vanity. All in all, my morning trip to the grocery ended up waiting until the early evening.

The trip itself should have been uneventful. Except for me cringing as I drove past the shadows the ever so artfully placed trees on the main strip cast. Except for me driving around the parking lot three different times as I again argued with myself about whether or not I really needed to go inside. After a bit I just got so damn mad at myself that I parked the car and grabbed a cart.

Everything seemed to be going alright at first. I did what any person does, went down the aisles with my shopping list and picked up the things I needed. About as normal as anyone could ask for right? Or at least it was until someone tapped me on the shoulder.

I jumped and amazingly did not shriek for once. Instead I spun around and aimed a kick for my would be attacker’s leg. And to my utter shock it landed and he jumped backwards, yelping in pain. He looked at me, raised his hands in surrender, and said “Shit I’m sorry!”

The first thing I noticed was that he wearing a business suit. I used to actually like the way business suits looked on men. Now I think I might prefer the sweats and t-shirt look. The second thing I noticed was that he was holding my wallet above his head.

My hands went to my purse and the guy grinned at me sheepishly. “It fell out of your bag. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Feeling like a complete idiot, I began apologizing profusely for attacking him. And instead of being outraged like he should have been he smiled at me.

“Well honestly I was kind of following you.” I stiffened and got ready to swing my purse at him.

“I spent the past ten minutes trying to figure out how to say hello to you and maybe convince you to talk to me long enough to give me your phone number. The wallet falling on the ground seemed like a perfect opportunity. I’m Ryan. And you are?”

So what did the confident intelligent female that I am supposed to be do? I stared at him like he had grown a second head. And he just smiled at me. He wasn’t seeing a woman that needed to be protected or a pet to abuse or a tool that had something he needed. For the first time in a very long time I was just being looked at as a woman. And I had no idea what to do.

“So how about it?” he asked, still smiling.

“How about what?” I asked, blinking in confusion.

“Your name. And maybe your phone number if I haven’t completely scared you off,” he said, still smiling at me as if he was talking to someone that had a working brain. He reached out, offering me my wallet with one hand and pulled out a cell phone with his other.

“Please? I’m a decent guy. I know I must look fairly pretentious dressed like this, but I just got out of work, hence the monkey suit. I swear I don’t always dress up just to go the grocery store. “

Faceless Eldritch Abomination? Easy. Giant tree with blood pouring from its eyes making my skull explode? Been there done that! Man asks me for my phone number and I couldn’t think of anything to do besides stand there and stutter like a moron.

So I gave him my phone number. I couldn’t think of anything else to do that would let me get on the checkout line and out of the grocery store without causing any worse of a scene then I already had by attacking him. Which yes, giving him my info was pretty dumb. I mean it’s not as if I’m actually going to go out with him. I can’t have that kind of life, not even before the cosmic horror. I’m just not meant for that. Never was. How many of the men in my life end up dead or just disappear never to be seen again?

I would make a great date wouldn’t I? Want to see my scars from where I was tortured? Let me tell you about the time I vacationed in another dimension where I was chased by giant leeches. Let me introduce you to my chaperone, the faceless wonder.

Somehow I don’t think it would go over well.