Monday, November 14, 2011

I'm still here folks. I was put into physical therapy for a few weeks. Had to relearn walking, moving my arms, even breathing normally. And after I got home? Well no excuse really. Just been kind of avoiding the computer. I have lots of excuses for why I've been avoiding this blog. I'm still weak, I'm tired, I'm too mentally fragile still to talk about things. All of which are bullshit. In the end I think I'm just afraid to face what broke me. So I'll take it easy and go backwards, start with when I went under instead of what happened beforehand.

When I read about how someone had decided to rescue Morningstar just hours after Melly died, I couldn't breathe. And no I am not going to link those people's blog posts here like I normally would. Also I will let it be known now that if they try to comment on this or any other post, it will be deleted immediately. Anything less would be an insult to the memory of a woman that Morningstar took advantage of, broke, and destroyed. If they hadn't decided to "rescue" him, he might have been captured by the police eventually. The fact that he is dead does not make the things he did to her forgivable. Melly will never have justice because of what they did and they will never be welcome here or forgiven.

Back to my point, when I read that I couldn't breathe. All I could see was the faces of the people that have died because of me. Melly, the kids, even Tom. I tried to close my eyes and the faces were still there, and then all started speaking at the same time, blaming me for their pain, asking why I killed them. I was trying to draw in a breath, just one, but nothing came.

I'm not sure exactly what happened next. I don't know if I passed out, or if maybe my mind just snapped, but I wasn't in my home anymore. I wasn't anywhere. It was murky and foggy. There must have been a light coming from somewhere because I could see a little bit, but I couldn't pinpoint the source. Everything seemed washed out. The only colors were grey. But the sounds were less dreary and more terrifying.

There were screams coming from somewhere in the fog. And I knew the voices. My godchildren. Melly. All of them screaming in pain. Someone was torturing them. I started to run towards them and no matter how long and fast I ran I didn't get closer. The screams stayed far away, growing more frantic, more terrorized.

I'm not sure how long I ran for. I know that Ryan had to take care of me for a few weeks. But time felt different when I was living it. It felt like I might have been gone for a day at the most. And when I say gone I don't mean I was somewhere else. My body never left the house according to Ryan. It didn't feel like it did when Zero's tree came after me, when I was somehow taken some place else. I know that whatever this was it was all in my head. But to quote J.K Rowling, "Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"

I eventually had to rest. I sat down on the ground with the damp fog surrounding me and started to cry. I had failed at everything. I had saved no one. Here I was lost and alone again, the damsel in distress only this time no one was coming to save me. I was weak and worthless just like Tom had always said. And as if by thinking about him I had somehow summoned him. He was there in front of me, reaching out and grabbing me around my waist with one arm and stroking my face tenderly with his other hand.

He smiled as he touched my cheeks, hands so tender and loving as he crooned the vilest words at me. Telling me all the things that haunted my dreams, everything I had fucked up, every bad name I had ever thought of myself, everyone I had let down. His fingers moved down to my neck as he reminded how it was my fault what happened to Maggie and Jake, how much fun we were going to have now that we were together again, and oh gods his fingers started to move lower and whatever had been keeping me frozen in place snapped.

I jumped away from him and we stared at each other. He had this awful half smile on his face as his eyes looked over me. That smile never left his face as he looked at me, looked into me. It felt like he wasn't just looking at me, he was looking inside me, my soul laid bare, my thoughts his to hear. I was ready for him. Ready to fight, to argue, whatever way he was going to attack me.

What I was not ready for however was for him to turn around and walk away. Without even looking at me, he called back that if I wanted to find Melly and the kids, I had better follow him. I didn't have much time to think about it. The fog was thick, he was disappearing quickly, and this point really what did I have to lose?

I followed him through the fog, trying to keep up with his much bigger strides. He didn't look back at me, didn't check to see if I was there. And amazingly he seemed to be telling the truth. As I followed him the screams grew closer and finally we stepped into an area that was still quite foggy, but somehow better lit then the rest.

I'm shaking and feeling more then slightly nauseous. I think I need to take a break from writing this out. I'm determined to finish telling what happened, but I am smart enough at least to know I can't force it all out in one shot.