~~Hola from Abroad--Life Post~~

Hello my loves, this young blogger will not be posting very much. I'm not able to post, but I WILL work on my writing every chance I get, so when I do post, it will be in definite bulk. A lot of the chapters of Her haven't been posted yet, so now three of them are now here. I'm gonna need to continue it (chapter ten is barely begun) so I'll need to work on this for a while. I need to fix things, continue things. I love you kiddies, but I'll be with you later. Au revior!

~~The Bitterness Remains--A Rant~~

I’m exhausted.

Tired of all of this.

So very tired.

But it seems that I cannot even make sense of what it is I am tired of. I have an amazing life—a pair of amazing, magnificent friends by the names of Fatum and Sun-Jung that I adore and love; a long distance gang of family that will withstand the test of time; a brother by the name of Ian Taylor that I would cheerily dedicate my life to spending every second with if I could; and a boyfriend that I cherish and would die for, and will live for. And let’s not forget the amazingly intelligent and creative mind I have, my almost unending kindness and ever-growing wisdom, the travels I take with my family, the amazing blog I do my best to post on as often as I can, the beauty of my appearance, the glory of my room, and the amount of books I own. I am so unbelievably lucky.

And yet I take what I am lucky to have and change it into a curse.

The love I call a weight, something I can bend and break beneath. The glory of my Figments, people within my mind that speak with me and share the same youthful bitterness, the same cynicism towards life that I was given so very early on—they themselves are nothing more than vestiges of the Madness that dwells in the Prison Floor of the Journey. The Journey to my inner strength I call Alakina, who will take over for me if my own will should break and shatter. Raphael, though he is strong and wise and kind almost to a fault, is not as strong as she. The Figments and I are one and the same, each one different aspects of me. The aspects of me blend and mix, each one of them with a past black as night, and each one of them with the same deep-set faith that one day, in some distant place and time, there will be rest.

There will be rest.

Sometime, far from now, in the distant future and beyond my lifetime, these lost and drifting souls, these Figments of imagination and facets of reality, will be able to grind to a halt, no longer drowning within the weight of eternity. I feel the same weight, for within me runs the shevre, the Blood of Figments. I am daughter of Alakina and Raphael, daughter of an African Queen and an English nobleman. Within me is time and within me is light, but within me is the severe agony and hatred of all things. And it is a hatred I cannot shake, something I cannot halt, even though I know it to be wrong, so very wrong.

I feel it boil within my blood.

I feel it sear my skin.

I feel it set alight my eyes with flame.

I feel it.

It is within me and it is everywhere, a single word—hate hate hate hate hate hate hate.

A feeling I claim to be incapable of.

But perhaps this feeling isn’t hate….

Perhaps it isn’t the flames and rage I think it is….

Perhaps all it is is some dark coldness.

Some darkened, blackened, burnt cold.

But then the vengeful cry rises up within me once more, a flood of anger and hate, only to be drowned once again in tears.

A flurry of emotion, one that is only halted again by a faint smile.

I know I’m not well.

I know that I’m likely to only get worse, my feelings deteriorate, until there can be nothing left but something known as strength. Something faulted and false, but also something I can stand on. Something REAL. Something real in a world of falseness. I’m very close to standing on nothing but strength, as the stones of love, faith, hope, belief, and friendship are crumbling beneath me, leaving in their wake bitterness.

Bitterness….

Accursed bitterness….

Always bitterness.

~~A Remnant of the World~~

I dance

Alone and in your arms

I weep

Always witness

And am witnessed

I close my eyes

I open them again

The weight

Collapses

The arms

Break

The legs

Falter

The staircase

Of smooth marble

Crumbles like clay

I whimper and force

My legs

To bear my weight

There isn’t much desire

Left within me

To stand up again

I close my eyes

Tighter

This time

And force myself

To hold back

Hold back the scream

The ferocious

Howl

Of ferocity

Of grief

Of terror

And of bitterness

Must I dance much longer?

Must I keep the pace?

Or can I stop

Halt

And finally

Get a second

To rest my aching feet?

But no, I doubt

That I can halt

This awful rhythm

The dint of time

The dint of freedom

Summer has come again

And with it an ending

To all responsibilities

I do not place upon myself

Oh, haha

There are always responsibilities

Always things to be done

And the rhythm

Cannot halt

The oiled wheels

Will only run faster

And I can

Barely

Keep up

But I must

Even though

The seductive world

The world of beauty

Of absolute freedom

Love

Without measure

Hate

Without end

They call to me

Raphael

Alakina

Stepha

Raven

Jace

Nikita

Kakana

Dana

My Figments

Figments of my imagination

Angels, good and true

Dressed in the vestiges

Of a desirable madness

I keep the barrier

Strong

I keep the worlds

Apart

For if they are

To truly collapse

And become one

I will fall

I will collapse

At the side of the train track

A victim

Of time

And a remnant

Of the world

That had once been

~~War Against the Madness--A Rant~~

I want, I want, I want.

I hate, I hate, I hate.

I need, I need, I need.

What’s right? What’s wrong? What’s going on? As far as I know my mind’s been broken and the fact that I’m alive is in fact barely known. I’m standing beneath the eyes of Figments, the eyes of Gods and Devils. I’m drowning in the Balance, the thing barely kept. My Figments stand in line, waiting for me to be alive. Waiting and watching, wondering when my time to burn will come. And we’re all waiting to burn. We’re looking around us, and we’re waiting for the torches and the pitchforks and the rope that won’t give and the hopeless strength of a wooden stake. We’re waiting for the finality of it all, the end of the fight and the endless night. As the past becomes an unending sea of pain, we stare into the darkness with something akin to hope. And all we’re hoping for is the straight and fast—the way out of this maze, this labyrinth. We know we’re waiting for it. We know that it’s the only thing we want, but we seek to hide our dark desire with the light. We hide our hatred with our love, our weakness with our strength, our grim smiles with our reckless laughter, the incomprehensible logic with the all-encompassing stupidity, and the jealousy and envy with the pride. Most of all, we shield our inner bitterness from the world with sweet words and deeds. And, in the end of it all, who among my Figments is any different from humanity? All of us in the end are the same way. Living for the dying is the only way to live. And only through the pain can you truly learn the lessons that need to be taught you.

I wonder if I will grow out of this, if this bitterness will maintain throughout my life or if it will fade away as I age. Is this life-long feelings, or is it simply nothing more than angst? I am quiet and afraid about this side of me—the side of me possessed by the cold heartlessness of the Madness. The side of me that speaks in song lyrics, dances in strait jackets beneath the unforgiving single eye of a full moon, and drowns itself in lust and depravity. The Madness, her old form slaughtered only to be replaced by wolves and midnight armies, still lives and flourishes within me. So beautiful…..So beautiful….

But then Raphael rises up, harsh and proud and so freaking real that I forget the Madness. At least for a time, my Figments maintain the Balance that is Sanity, maintain the Semblance of normalcy.
And I delight in it for a time, seeking what shelter is available. But there isn’t that much shelter at all.

But it’s the only thing I can live in.

If I fall to the Madness, I become what many people do. I become the fallen shoe at the side of the train tracks, no longer part of a pair but a singular lonely thing. I’m happy enough to be alive, but….But one day I’ll let myself fall.

~~Her: Chapter Nine--Film~~

--Nick’s POV—
I wasn’t surprised when I woke up to find Anita leaning over me. I wasn’t surprised to find her eyes focused on Jamie and I, still lying curled together. I wasn’t surprised to see anger on her face.
I roll to my feet, and look at her smoothly. “Hello, Anita. Long time no see.”
She grasps my hand tightly in hers, and the small woman drags me with her out of the room, leaving Jamie there fast asleep still. “What are you doing, Nick?” She asks, her voice taut.
“You’re my ex-wife. You shouldn’t be asking these questions.” I reply calmly, meeting her gaze peacefully.
She looks at me coldly, her brilliant blue eyes filled with anger, “You are an asshole, you know that? That’s Jamie, isn’t it? The straight kid you seduced?”
I flinched.
She knew?
--Anita’s POV—
How could he think that I didn’t know? How could he think that he could never return my calls, never reply to my messages, and still expect me to not have my ways to find out all about him? He just never thought I was that talented. After that night, I’d been keeping track of him, Logan, Jamie, Ann—all of them. I was a player in the game that eventful night, its ruler.
Why?
That house they had been in that eventful night had been mine.
And I had every last room bugged with cameras and microphones.
Nick and I had been married eight months before he started sneaking off, coming up with excuses as to where he is, why he never comes back until late, late, late at night, and why he was always freshly showered. Sick of being lied to, I spoke with Her, and She and I figured it out. So to catch Nick in the act, I had him followed.
When I caught him in the act, he spills the truth, I divorce him, and he begs for my forgiveness but I never give it. I shove him away, kick him out.
But then a while passes, and She and I realize how messed up our situation is. Her relationship with Logan is failing because She longs for Jamie, and he for Her. Logan and Jamie become tense and distant, still friends and still close but yet far away. And then Ann steps back into the picture, and Logan, hurting and needing comfort, flees right into his ex-lover’s arms.
Her and I speak about this, about all of this, and we decide—One night. One night of all the secrets revealed, every room bugged, every drink drugged. She was the one who had wanted to do this—She didn’t know it would result in Her death.
Invite all of them here, hit the Record button, sit back and let the insanity unfold.
We knew Logan would slip into the closet with Ann, knew that Jamie would come to find him and force him to confront Her and come clean for everything he’s done. That much was expected.
But what wasn’t expected was how Jamie had gone, right before slipping off to find Logan, into the arms of a weeping and broken Nick. Jamie had comforted him, they’d wept together, and Jamie and Nick had eventually slept together. That was definitely not what had been expected.
Was Jamie gay? Perhaps. Either way, it doesn’t matter now.
What we also didn’t expect was what transpired on the balcony that night.
Jamie had forced Logan up there, and then followed him. I had followed them until I could watch the events unfold but not be seen, and hoped that things would go well.
They didn’t.
When Jamie arrived on the scene, things had already been heated. Her and Logan were hurling accusations, insults, almost trading blows. Jamie stepped in, tried to calm things down. For a while it worked, but then Nick came up out of nowhere, told Her what had happened between Jamie and him, and the fight began anew and Logan turned on Jamie, disgusted by what he had done. Jamie pleads for the understanding of his best friend, but Logan slaps him across the face. Nick, enraged, attacks Logan. She tries to stop them, tries to pull them apart. Ann, drawn by the sounds of fighting, arrives on the scene. She sees Ann, hurls Herself at her, accusing her of stealing Logan. Logan accuses Jamie of stealing Her, and the fight goes on.
Eventually, I step in, and calm things down a bit.
But a bit isn’t enough.
Nick, torn and hurting, flees the scene. She, watching Her best friend abandon Her when She needs him most, steps onto the railing. Logan begs Her not to, tells Her to stop, that he loves Her and only Her. Ann flees as well, not able to hear the man she loves confess his love to another. Jamie slaps Logan across the face for hurting his sister, and then the fight explodes again. I try to stop it, but I can’t and neither of them notice until it is far too late that She is slipping forward, falling, falling, falling….
All of them have blocked the memories from their minds. Too drunk and drugged for the memories to be in their minds, anyways.
Nick doesn’t remember coming to my house that night. Jamie doesn’t remember him and Nick, nor the events on the balcony. All Ann remembers is seeing Logan and then Jamie going up to the balcony, and then seeing Her fall.
What does She Herself remember? Perhaps all of it. But me? I just have the film.
--Jamie’s POV—
I almost jumped when I woke up. Nick was gone, and I could hear voices from the next room. Not a good sign, never a good sign….
Especially when one of the voices sounded angry.
I creep closer, curiosity winning easily over my minor sense of judgment, and I kneel by the faintly opened door:
“…a fool. Jamie is straight—you know that. Why do you keep someone who doesn’t love you around?” The voice that spoke was high and flooded with righteous anger—definitely female. I couldn’t place the source, but a bit of me recognized it, remembering some voicemails I’d occasionally come across on Nick’s machine. Annie? Annabelle? Something like that….
“He loves me and he needs me. I can see that when I look into his eyes!” the conversation was starting to shake me—they were talking about me. The woman seemed to be trying to get him to get rid of me, and let me go, while Nick seemed defensive. But….Apparently he knew I was straight. Dammit, I had thought I had been a better liar….
“He’s straight, damn you. I don’t care if he ‘loves’ you. The desire you have for him is not the desire he has for you.”
“What am I supposed to do, just throw him out on the street? The poor kid doesn’t seem to have anywhere else to go!”
“You should send him to a homeless shelter—if he’s been living on the streets, god knows who he knows and what kind of diseases he’s carrying. Do you want a new AIDS virus?”
“Look, Anita, I love Jamie and I don’t care if he loves me back. I just want him to be safe!”
“And what about YOUR safety, huh? I don’t want the kids to have to grow up without a father!”
“With-without a father? Are you kidding me? Just because Jamie is going through a difficult time doesn’t mean he’s an axe murderer.”
“Look….Just get him to someplace where he can properly being taken care of instead of having to pay for his food with his body.”
“I’m not throwing him out. Just because you had no trouble tossing me out on the street doesn’t mean all people are like that.”
And that’s right about when I stop being able to stand to listen to this conversation. I get up, trying to be as silent as I can, and slip back to bed.

~~Her: Chapter Eight--Sweet~~

--Jamie’s POV—
I was back with Nick. I’d missed him, in a way. Not the sex, not the faking, not the constant lies, but I’d missed—him. He was funny and intelligent, and his library and his books and smiles and scent of coffee and old wood and flowers. Nick was sweet and careful, always wanting to please, and he adored me. I was sweet to him, and innocent, and I always faked being easily frightened. I was his sweet, sweet Jamie, young and innocent. He was three years my senior, but he never treated me like a child—he simply treated me as something to be treasured, watched over, held and gentled.
Nick smiles, making me my coffee exactly the way I liked it—double-double with a single shot of orange extract and strawberries on the side. I was sitting curled in a pair of his old pajama bottoms, hair wet from a shower, blinking sleepily. “Oh, Nick!” I cried, hurling myself at the drink, while he laughed and held it carefully so it didn’t spill.
“You’ve been a while without it, haven’t you?” Nick asks, and I wonder at his meaning, but I play dumb and simply say that it had been a few days since my last cup of coffee.
Nick smiles again, shaking his head, and murmuring to himself, “Ah….So sweet. How could anyone deserve something so sweet?”
I merely sip at my coffee, closing my eyes and sighing. Nick curls up beside me with his black coffee, his eyes filled with wonder as I sip and smile, sweet and innocent.
I smile at him, biting my lower lip in the old way—something that had never failed to make Nick smile, and treat me tenderly and carefully, as if I was something that could be broken easily. He slings an arm around my shoulders carefully, pulling my against his side gently, setting down his still full cup and resting his other hand on my thigh. I drink the last of my coffee and he takes it from my hand and sets it down, before I nestle against him and shut my eyes, pretending to sleep. I hear him sigh, and feel his hand in my hair.
I just let him hold me, hiding my fear and my disgust.
And my shame.
--Nick’s POV—
This boy lies well.
I eye him, my eyebrows raised, wondering, What does he need from me? What would make him desperate enough to put himself through this? I only take him to my bed because he begs for it—otherwise I would refuse to make him go through it.
I trace a line down his bare shoulder with a single finger, and I smile when he sighs. I didn’t care that everything he did was a lie—it was a good enough lie that I needed it every moment. I breathed, watching how it shifts his dark black hair. He shivers, and I pause, before lightly kissing him on top of the head and closing my eyes, drifting into sleep.
Coffee be damned, I was with the boy I loved, and that was all that mattered.
Who cares if he didn’t love me back?
--Her’s POV—
Nicky Boy.
I’d actually rather missed him and Jamie’s exploits. It amazed me how little torture, how little sweet torment, it had taken me to send Jamie running into the arms of a man who had lifted him from where he had been weeping at the corner, bruised and bloody from a brawl, and had taken him home and tended to his wounds, without even asking for his name until the next morning.
Nick was someone I couldn’t torture, someone like Ann, who I merely disgusted instead of tortured. He would take more to end, more to murder, more to drive mad.
Nicky Boy was someone I could have fun with….
Jamie and Logan were easy—a whisper, a touch, a laugh, and they were trembling, tortured. Ann was strong and stubborn—she would take a lot from me before I could even harm her. And she had no heart as well—I couldn’t even harm her by going after people she supposedly loved.
But Nicky Boy? He loved Jamie, his sweet, sweet Jamie—and Jamie didn’t love him back. At least, not in the way Nick loved him. And Nicky Boy? Oh, he knew it. You could see it in his eyes and the set of his face—this was hurting him like nothing I could ever inflict.
But he was…special. I knew the ways to torture and torment him—tell him the words that were going through Jamie’s mind. The pleading cries for him to stop, to end it, to go and leave him alone. And, oh, how Jamie hated him…. I would tremble and laugh at the tortured swirl of emotions in the room when those two were together in bed! I adored standing there, watching them pretend, watching them lie. And those two were exceptional liars—but not good enough for the truth to be there between them, seen but unseen, known but unknown.
So how else could I hurt Nicky Boy, other than telling him the truth?
I could make him remember.
He was there that night.
He had not yet known Jamie, not yet loved him, but yet they had been together. Oh, there are many things that night that Jamie did not remember….I laughed aloud, because I remembered them all.
Nick and I had been great friends once. We couldn’t have been closer—he knew about every aspect of my life, including Jamie and Logan, but yet I had never allowed him to meet them. I knew he would fall for Jamie—and that Jamie would break his heart. But this? This torture that Jamie inflicted on him? I could never have expected this. But now that it had happened….
How perfect it was!
Jamie was destroying Nicky Boy—and there wasn’t a thing I had to do about it!
But did Nick know it was my Jamie he took to his bed?
Yes. He knew. Nick was smart—he figured it out even before I came to him and whispered in his ear.
So I smiled to myself and let the boys, the lovers, torment each other more than I ever could.
And then I decide to go, and visit Logan. Remaining here wasn’t worth my time—Nicky Boy was fun to hurt, but yet I needed to kill, and Logan was just crying out for his life to end.
Was it time to make him join me in Eternity?
Not yet….
But there were others that I could kill.
And maybe, just maybe, Logan would die if I drove him to it myself or not….
The death of your entire family tends to destroy you.
--Logan’s POV—
They were not dead.
That was the only thing I could ask for.
That, and new something to destroy.
I couldn’t very well destroy Stacy’s furniture and walls, now could I? No matter how much I wanted to turn those pink walls red, and end see how easily I could shatter her fragile and dainty furniture.
There was one thing that surprised me, though: The neighbors hadn’t called the cops yet.
I’d been sprinting around the apartment, swearing and calling Her to me, daring Her to come and end my life, singing Where’s My Angel by Metro Station again and again.
Jamie rose to my mind, and my teeth clench. Where was he? my mind screams. Is he alive? Is he okay? I swear and scream, my muscles clenching, my eyes dark.
I needed him! I had abandoned him, my best friend! If he died, it was my fault! I had abandoned him to Her! I had left him alone!
I dialed his cell.
He answers, and I hear him speaking to someone named Nick apologetically as he excuses himself, before he greets me. “Logan, hey.”
“You’re alive.” I say simply.
“So are you.” Jamie replies, both of us looking for ways to say the words we needed to say.
Bur we didn’t.
We sat there, and talk about how we were surviving—Jamie explaining to me how he was spending his nights with Nick, and I told him about how I was staying with Stacy, sitting alone in silence and trying not to destroy her apartment while she was gone.
He laughed at that, and we didn’t talk about what he was going through by staying with Nick. Some things you never share, but you just understand.
Which one of us had it worse?
I didn’t care.
But then She came, and I said swiftly the two words he had been expecting to hear ever since he had seen my name appear when the call came, “She’s here.”
I hung up, cutting him off in the middle of wishing me luck.
I didn’t want to hear it.
She brushed against me, whispering in my ear, telling me hello.
And for an instant I forgot Stacy, forgot Jamie, forgot Ann. Forgot and let go of everything but Her.
And an instant stretched into hours, and hours stretched into the night, and Stacy did not come home.
It wasn’t until evening the next day that the knock came at the door, and the policeman stepped in and told me that Stacy was dead while She just stood there beside me, laughing at the expression of horror and grief and guilt, guilt most of all, that flickered across my face.
Stacy was dead.

--Her’s POV—
I just stood there and laughed.
Stacy was dead….
Logan had kissed me, held me, wept in my arms as the girl who loved him more than anything else bled out in an alleyway, disemboweled and her throat slit, just as any whore deserved.
Oh, it had been so easy to manifest myself, to cause that rotten little bum to hate the skinny-hipped little hooker-dressed businesswoman. To want revenge on the spoiled little rich girl. A few choice words and sensations, and he was just itching to get that nice switchblade of his buried oh-so-deep in her honeysweet skin.
I knew the effect this would have on poor Logan—oh how mad he would be driven!
How slowly I would let him drown in his agony—I would make him live for oh-so-long, laughing every second as he loses his mind until finally he leaps from the balcony, committing suicide, and becoming finally mine. Finally mine! Mine for all eternity….

~~Her: Chapter Seven--More~~

--Jamie’s POV—

She was gone again, and I was alone. I was standing on a street corner, sitting alone, tired and sick.

She was gone and I was left behind. Forever? No. Definitely not. How could I be so alone?

She was gone. Why did I miss Her?

I didn’t want Her! I didn’t deserve this….This sweet torture, this sweet agony.

Why did I miss Her? Why did I need Her?

I knew why. I was weak, and I truly knew that I had not killed Her. I did not know what happened 
that night—all I knew was that I did NOT kill Her. I did not kill Her.

But who had?

Did it even matter?

She was dead, She was here, and She was going to make us suffer.

Why?

She enjoyed it.

No other real reason than that.

I looked around. Where to go? There was nowhere I could go that She couldn’t find me—and all I cared about was another visit from Her. It wasn’t like I needed anywhere to stay. I’d find someone to let me stay with, someone I didn’t like very much.

And then I saw him.

He had blond hair, blue-green eyes, pouty lips, cheap jeans and a jean jacket over an old band t-shirt. He met my eyes, and nodded slowly in recognition. “Hello, Jamie my sweet.”

I nodded back, and muttered, “Hello, Nick.”

We had been lovers once.


--Nick’s POV—

Ah, Jamie was here! I smiled, pleased to see him. It had been so long since I had seen him. We had had our fun, our laughter, our nights together. But then that had ended, and I was unhappy. I’d missed my sweet, sweet Jamie….

But now we were sitting across from each other in a booth in a small restaurant off the main, a beer across from each of us, a plate piled high with Italian food sitting between us.

Just as things had been before.

I smiled, touching his hand gently. “You can stay with me….” I murmured, soft and slow. I watched him react—his eyes closing, sighing at the familiar tone. He remembered….had he missed this as much as I have? Had he missed the softness, the gentleness, the idle trust? He knew I loved him—but he knew that he and I had left each other for the better.

“I need to be with you….” Jamie softly murmurs back, looking away from me. “I can’t be alone anymore….”

My heart bled for my sweet, sweet Jamie.

But I knew he lied.

I knew he lied to me. I knew he didn’t need me, I knew he didn’t love me, I knew he didn’t want me the way I needed him. He was straight—he’d only faked wanting me. I’d always known—but yet I loved him. He touched my hand, his eyes dark, focused on mine, his lips parted faintly. He was good at lying—he was talented.

But why did I still believe him?

His hand brushed against my arm, and I remembered.

He needed me, and he was willing to go through hell to be with me.

That’s all that mattered.


--Jamie’s POV—

So I was back to lying. Back to pretending. Back to faking.

Back to pretending I loved him.

Nick smiles, tracing a line up my arm. I pretended to smile, to tremble, to enjoy it. He smiles at me
gently, gently nibbling at the plate of food. I had scarce touched it—no true energy to eat. He noticed, eyeing me carefully, softly frowning. “Are you not hungry, Jamie my sweet?” he murmurs, his voice worried.

I make an effort to eat after that.

“I’m hungry, it’s been so long since I had anything good…” I say quietly, my head down, Nick’s hand gently caressing me still. It drifts to my shoulder and I force myself so shiver, to pretend. Nick smiles and takes his hand in mine, drawing it to his lips for a single kiss.

“Are you okay, Jamie? Oh Jamie my sweet, you don’t look well. Have you been eating?” Nick says worriedly then, noticing when I fail to answer.

“I’ve…I’ve been okay. A bit sick but…getting better.…” Knowing I’m walking on thin ice, I quickly throw myself into the total weakness persona—tiny whimpers, pout, eyes downcast, trembling hands. Nick can’t help himself, and he practically runs around the table to kneel beside my chair, pulling me in for a long tight hug.

“I’m here for you, sweet, sweet Jamie….Forever until the end.”


--Logan’s POV—

I had no idea where Jamie was. I hoped he was okay—but I had the feeling I knew he’d found an old friend to stay with. I just hoped he was okay….

But I had other people to worry about.

I had dialed my parent’s numbers dozens of times, calling neighbors, old friends, people I’d once known, trying to see if they were okay. But no one ever answered.

And, the few times that they did, they told me that they were away. Where? No one knew.

I just had to sit alone, in the dark and in the silence of my lover’s apartment, eyes closed, sighing. That was all that I could do.

But I knew I couldn’t just sit here! I had to try. Try something, anything. The problem was….What exactly do you do when you deal with a ghost?

I swore, slammed my hands over my face, muttering to myself. “Alright, so I’ve got a ghost haunting me. What do you do when you have a ghost?”

Then, the answer smacked me in the back of the head.

An exorcist.

I couldn’t believe it.  How had we not thought of this before? I swore a few times, and ran right to Stacy’s home laptop, flicking open the pink little monster, touching it as little as I could. How she had managed to purchase such a small and cute pink….thing I had no idea, but here it was, hot pink and about the size of a paperback. To make matters even worse, it also had a healthy array of Hello Kitty stickers scattered on it. Well here was a girl who needed maybe a bit of help.

I eventually managed to manipulate the laptop, getting to Google after a bit of delicate fingering. And yes, I am aware of the fact that I just wrote that.

I sighed, and went right to work, trying to ignore the bristling of the hair on the back of my neck, the sweet scent that flooded the room, and the gentle brush of fingertips across my cheek.


--Her’s POV—

I was destroying them.

And now Nicky Boy had joined the game….

One more person they loved that I could destroy.

One more person that was there that night I could end.

I smiled, laughing.

Ah, such sweet destruction I could inflict upon them….

Who cares that none of them had killed me?

And, oh, would you look at that! Logan was looking for an exorcist. Well you had to give the boy
points for finally figuring out a way to fight back, eh?

But of course it wouldn't work....

I was too smart for it, and there weren't many true exorcists. Not many at all.

~~Darkened Wings: A Story from the Mansion~~

A sneer.

A single, harsh sneer.

A choked off shriek.

A mocking laugh.

My father land in front of me, black eyes peering into mine, smiling slowly. "Little one, how fares thee?"

I close my eyes and collapse slowly to my knees, pressing my forehead to the solid oaken floor.

"Little one, displaying weakness....As always."

I feel hands, their grip almost unnaturally warm and strong, tug me slowly to my feet. A long-fingered hand dips beneath my chin, raising it to look dead ahead into an angel's eyes.

"Little one....Speak to me....Why do you seem so weak? Your soul seems...even less vibrant now. You've strengthened your walls, and within the Mansion there is barely any light...Why? What has caused you to flee from the sunlight so?"

"Falseness and lies, as always, father dear...." I say slowly in response, jerking my head back from his tender touch. "Where are the others?"

"Training for the coming calamity, my little one."

"The...coming calamity?"

"The breaking free of your chains, my dearest little one. It seems that the freedom and flight that you have been so craving is coming swiftly. Very swiftly."

I'm not sure whether or not I like the sound of that so I turn from him, and flick my long purple, brown, green, gold, and black hair behind my shoulders as my wings slip through the slits in my shirt, stretching them out. Raphael gasps and I angle my head to the side in curiosity, only to gasp as well: My wings had turned a beautiful crimson.

They had been white....

I remembered them being white, as pure as snow....

"Little one...What has become of you?"

"I've gotten colder....

"A lot colder than I should be."

Raphael walks up behind me, between my crimson wings, and rests his ringed hands upon my narrow shoulders. His arms slide around my neck, and he presses up against me, his chin upon my head. He whispers slowly, "You are not well....You should come with me, the others...The others want to do a Ceremony of the Rain sometime today. You should attend. It will cheer you up--you know it will."

I break free of his arms and walk away from him, looking out the window. I draw my lone hand-and-a-half sword, raising it in my right hand. I twirl it in a slow circle with a rotation of my wrist, before raising my left hand and dragging the blade's edge across my left wrist. Blood pours from the wound, and behind me I hear Raphael gasp--but not with worry....

With desire.

"Little one....Your blood, treat it with more care. You know we dwell within it....You know our magics."

I laugh harshly, and turn towards Raphael. "Of course I know, father mine. I'm the one who came up with all of this--this tragic beauty. This beautiful Mansion is of my creation. Or, at the very least, it is I who own it....Dwelling here within the demonic realm is my choice. I know our magics--the blood of us releases our power. To cut us is to allow our magics to flow into the open world....Pure lust and pure bliss in liquid form. An angel's curse and a devil's bane."

He sighs and taps me on the forehead with the tip of his index finger. "So you intended to provoke me with such a blatant showing of your magic, then?"

I nodded and healed the wound easily, letting my tongue flick slowly over my wrist, the saliva stitching shut the wound. I close my eyes at the taste of my own blood, and walk past him, heading deeper into the Mansion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It's time for the Ceremony of the Rain, little one. Will you be attending?"

I raise my head from my reading and look to him. He stands in the doorway, leaning against the wood, his hands shoved casually into jeans pockets. Raphael smiles slowly, straightening and looking at me, his long tipped red onyx hair falling into his eyes. He flicks it back with his fingers, and walks into the room. He extends a hand and I take it, letting him guide me to my feet. "I will go to the Ceremony...Help me dress, Raphael."

He nods and does as I ask, removing my simple armour to replace it with a flowing red, black, and gold gown. Upon it is a stitched in sigil above the heart: An eight-point ruby star beneath an onyx sky. The symbol of the Mansion.

He smiles slowly when we are both prepared, and walk from my room, headed for the Ceremony of the Rain.

And I apologize, dear readers, but that is all the Mansion I have permission to show to you right now....

When the Figments allow me, I shall show you the Ceremony of the Rain, but for now....

Farewell, loves.

~~Love's A Curse for Angels Like Me--Ramble~~

Hate flows through my veins, sweet and thick, intoxicating....

Sweet arousal flows like the gentle brush of hands, causing lips to part and dark eyes to flash with sinful delight....

Love sears and burns me, setting me on fire....

Hate, lust, love....

Emotions that walk and dance hand in hand, alternating like the faces of a three-sided coin...

Love and Hate and Lust.

Love simply gets in the way.

If I must fall, let it be in the flames of lust and hate, not in the tears of love. My wings are tinting red and black, the white feathers of purity falling, falling, like leaves of the purest white snow.

My eyes flash and turn to solid black, before I weep tears of blood....

"Stop me."

"STOP ME!"

"LET ME GO!"

My shrieks echo soundlessly through the darkened blackness, and even though I feel the comfort, feel the love and the feeling of home, I can't find a single thing to clutch...I find hands to hold on to and lips to kiss, but whenever I touch another my body to another's I fade away....

I fade away....

But then I'm dragged out of the darkness and shoved onto beds of pillows and silk, held down with warm comforting blankets, burned at the stake by a fireplace. I'm chained and imprisoned by comforting hands and gentle touches. I'm branded with the touch of lips and fingertips.

Love is a curse....

When you get too much....

And maybe even when you get it at all....

I miss the darkness, the cold aching loneliness when everything made sense, made prisoner by my own silence and through my own desires....I miss how long I would spend dreaming, hoping for better days....And now that better days have come, I long for the hell again....

Give it back to me!

Return me to the days of loneliness, when things had no consequences and I knew how to survive! When I could be happy, and smile without scars....

Give back to me my loveless, anonymous days.....

When I could truly fade away....

But now the world of my loves is upon my shoulders, along with futures....

Ted loves me so, and wants to spend his life with me.....

But....My Master, who I left at the pressure from my friends to leave my cam whore days when HE wasn't the one hurting me but the others, still wants me....And I still want him....I still want him....

I miss it......

I miss him and me....

Love is a curse...

LOVE IS A CURSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I want, I want, I want what I can never have.......

I hate, I hate, I hate what I am always given....

Someone....

Anyone....

Cut me from the chains of love and let me run.

Let me run from here.

Let me spread my wings and fly.

I'm an Angel.....

I'm an Angel built for sin....

Won't you please let me fly?

Fly so high I catch on fire--a final shooting star across the pink storm clouds of the final dawn?

And twinkle out, a fallen firefly....

I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream

Citizens of Terra! Name where this is from!

 I have recently read this haunting and very disturbing story by Harlan Ellison. In March 1967, he published this post-apococalitpic story about an insane supercomputer who over saw a world war and caused the near-extinction of humanity, save for five unfortunate people.

 The story takes place over a hundred years after the near-complete destruction of humanity. The Cold War has escalated into a world war, fought mainly between China, Russia, and the United States. As the war went on, the three warring nations each created a super-computer capable of running the war far more efficiently than humans. The machines are each referred to as "AM," which originally stood for "Allied Mastercomputer," then later called "Adaptive Manipulator", and still later "Aggressive Menace". One day, the American supercomputer becomes self aware, and promptly absorbs the other two. It then redefines its name as AM as in  "I think, therefore I AM".

Ted, Ellen, Benny, Gorrister and Nimdok, (each with their own back stories which is playable on the 1995 release of the computer game)  suffer at the hands of the godlike AM. They live in the middle of the Earth, in the underbelly of AM. The master computer has an immeasurable hatred for humanity and spends every moment torturing the group with all its power, twisting their minds and physiques, hurting them and not allowing them to die: AM has not only managed to keep the humans from taking their own lives, but has made them virtually immortal.

I wont reveal anymore than this, but I do encourage to read this disturbing and refreshing nightmare fuel. I will write a follow-up soon enough, so wait, my dearies.

Also, here is the introduction to the game, with the following picture read by AM (who is voiced by Harlan Ellison).

~~Considerations: Life Post~~

Hello my loves--tis I, your  faithful (not) Blogger. x3 I had my French exam today, and I think it went really well. At least it's over with anyways....

Anywho, I'm planning on continuing HER this weekend--which means posting the next four chapters that are sitting completed on my laptop....I need to edit the chapters on the blog, so maybe a quick read through of them would be useful. The chapter list can be found on the new ~~Stories~~ page.

And I'm also considering making an 18+ site.....I do so love writing, and writing things 18+ might just be a hell of a lot of fun. And HER is soon going to turn into erotica I think....Not my intention when I wrote it but the whole fact that She does what She does makes it quite erotic....

Well my loves, I must sleep now.

Au revior!

~~ERM Whut?--Life Post~~

They keep looking at my boobs.

Not that I'm complaining--I have very nice boobs, apparently. And right now I'm wearing a shirt with a low neckline. So they're starting at my boobs.

Who are they, you ask?

Older guys. Of course they're older guys.

Seriously, why does no one my age ever give me a second glance? It's annoying as heck....

I kinda appreciate the attention but I've got a boyfriend, one who I adore and love very, very much. I don't feel like getting involved and I've had enough of being turned into nothing more than an object.

*Sighs.*

Ah well....I guess there's not much I can do about it. Besides, I'm going to need to go practice taking my clothes off.....

Damn costume changes.

Au revior!

~~Definition: Me~~

Alexandra Wong, Noun. 

1. A girl of fifteen years, hair colour a mix of purple, green, gold, brown, and red. Brown/black eyes. Usually wears sophisticated clothes with a necklace, both wrists adorned with bracelets (usually black in colour) and a ring on the right middle finger (its colour varies.) During spring/fall wears black leather boots, and during summer wears flats. During winter black leather boots/boots of a different sort. Wears a lot of leather. Uses many leather one-shoulder bags to carry her things. Wears red-rimmed glasses with a geometric pattern on the sides. Weight: 170 pounds or so. Height: Five feet, six inches. Hour glass waist. Curvy.
2. A loner who doesn't talk a lot, has only a few friends, usually seen during lunch in library sitting with a Korean girl and a dark-skinned girl wearing a headscarf. Listens to music a lot. Seems pretty smart. Has a weird accent that makes her difficult to understand. Sometimes neglects personal hygiene.
3. An amazing friend who cares deeply about many people, has the biggest heart in the world, goes by the name of Angel. Has talked people out of suicide. You can trust her with her life, and when you're at her worst, she will cheer you up and help you through anything and everything at all.
4. A sexy little girl, one who may or may not be willing to do anything for you. Overcoming an addiction to webcamming, but her behaviour may or may not have changed. She is less willing now to be the way she was, but it is still apparent in her. She now regrets her past, but if you convince her, you might get lucky.
5. A girl broken beyond all repair. Treated and used wrongly by a great deal of people, has a lot of self hatred, and may or may not give a shit. She doesn't seem to care much any more, about anything or any one, and it seems difficult for her to feel. She enjoys a lot of time alone, lacks religious beliefs, and is searching for something, anything real in a world that is fake. She still has a rather positive outlook on her future, but at her core she isn't well. Help would be deeply appreciated.
6. A girl who loves anime, rock and roll music, and horror movies. She loves Black Butler, Broken Saints, Mushi-Shi, and Fruits Basket. She has a hat from Broken Saints bearing the words NUKE A GAY WHALE FOR CHRIST, a Sebastian plushie doll, and she is waiting for the Mushi-Shi live action movie to come in the mail along with the Black Butler dvds of seasons one and two. She listens to German Rock, Vocaloid, Gothic music, some metal, screamo, punk, Italian, and a lot of other kinds of music--everything but most of pop and country. And jazz. She doesn't really like jazz music. And her favorite movies are Insidious, Darkness Falls, and Cube.
7. Me.

~~Watch Me Fall~~

"Watch me burn....." I whisper

"Watch me run from you...."

I laugh harshly

"Watch me flee from your grasp

"Watch me hate you

"Watch me!"

You only laugh, and pull me closer

"You don't belong to anyone else

"You've always been mine

"Always and forever."

I yell and try to break free

But I can't summon the strength

I fall and go weak

Collapse back into your arms

Unable to flee

Just wanting you

"See? You can't fight

"You're mine again....

"And it's been so long

"Since I felt this good....."

I cry when you tell me that....

Tears of joy....

~~I Need.....--A List Post~~

• I need someone to tell me it's all going to be okay
• I need some time to let my heart heal
• I need a song to speak to me
• I need someone to hold me
• I need to understand why my former Master still makes my heart ache
• I need to understand why he came back to me
• I need to breathe
• I need to be happy
• I need to live
• I need someone to love me
• I need someone safe
• I need someone to explain to me my life
• I need someone to keep me safe
• I need love at home
• I need my family to know....Know about me
• I need to blog more......

~~I'm Trying~~

I'm trying to believe

That all the words you say

Aren't meant to control me

That you don't want to hurt me

But they tell me things

Things to make me listen

And I try to ignore it

But I need to believe it

But if I believe it

If I accept it as real

Won't it make us fake?

Will it be something I can take?

I need something real

But the way you make me feel

It's turned into my addiction

You're one hell of a temptation

I feel so loved

So cared about

And with the others, it's not this way

So won't you just give me more today?

I don't get love at home

No one here knows me

But when I'm with you

It all feels true

I'm trying to figure out

Who I should believe

Won't you tell me you love me?

And be true to me...?

~~Quick Post about Nothing: Life Post~~

Oh kiddies, I am so tired right now. And I have nothing to do for an hour. And I'm sitting in a class room typing and ignoring the world. I love my life. And I really do not enjoy this at all. But hey, I spent like twenty minutes or more sitting in a guidance office waiting for my appointment. And yay. But well I think it was worth it....

So finally I'm sitting her quietly, not thinking about anything at all, and just basically writing an email to my blog because I am just cool like that, and occasionally being quizzed by Alex Pratt about geography.

I'm so very bored.

So very very bored. But we're now studying for geo, so I think I'll leave you guys for now x3 I love you!

~~Help Me: Life Post~~

I need help.

I'm addicted and it truly is obvious now.

I'm still addicted to being a cam whore, to being who I was, who....Who I still am.

And maybe who I always will be.

I thought I was over it, but....But I'm not. I'm still drowning alone and there's no one who can help me.

I try to hide it but the pain....

The pain of realizing I'm nothing more than an addict is very apparent in my eyes.

Hell, today I had a snow cone and a poutine and I'm still depressed.....

There are a ton of reasons why and I....I don't have the heart to say.

I haven't cammed yet but there are a lot of guys asking and....And I'm trying to say no but I want to, oh God....Oh God I still want to! I still want to....

 

Here....I'll tell you why I'm this way...

1. I got hit on a lot, and always by older guys
2. Simon and I got into another fight
3. Adam attempted suicide again
4. Adam's boyfriend Matt is beating him (throwing him across rooms and into walls etc.)
5. I want to cam so badly
6. The fact that I'm addicted is terrifying me....
7. A snow cone failed to cheer me up.
8. I'm sitting alone under the stairs, trying not to cry right now
9. I made some really cool new friends though--all of which aren't interested in me sexually
10. Ted and I won't see each other today, or this weekend

Oh kiddies.....

I need help.

I need help.

Please!!!!!!

~~Near Sinful Adoration~~

I'm your pet
Your tiny little girl
Who snuggles up against you
The cutest girl you ever met

I'm your slave
Who worships you
Does whatever you ask
And is grateful for everything you gave

I'm your girlfriend
So sweet and kind
I will be anything
From now until the end

I will be here
For you to use
Because I love you
Without fear.

~~So, Now What?--A Rant~~

Alright. So today in class I was treated to The Lorax again. You know, the Dr. Suess thinger about protecting the environment, progress, and the sustainability of resources. Along with what happens when the effects of our progress end up causing too much harm.

The world is going to end kiddies, unless….

Unless things change.

Unless someone changes things.

And the time is now, you accursed fools. We’ve run out of time to think about things, and progress is progressing too fast.

I know we’re trying but one day, and one day soon, we’re going to realize what we’ve done. We’re going to realize how far we’ve gone in the wrong direction. This isn’t right. Kiddies, someone change things. Someone with power.

And there are also so many other things wrong. In Turkey, abortion is swiftly becoming illegal. In the Ukraine and elsewhere, countries are following in the footsteps of St. Petersburg, Russia, and making it illegal to be openly gay. Even gay penguins are being separated from their mates during mating season. Yes. Penguins. And in a lot of places, animals are becoming more willing to speak out than man. Just google Lucy the Political Goat. You’ll see what I mean.

Kiddies, this is one blogger that is sick of this world, that can’t understand why she’s here in such a horrible place, and one who is going to fight to change it. I’m weak in comparison to many, and my influence is minimal, but I can try. And in this world, even trying to change things is getting rarer and rarer.

And this is a world that has gotten small….So very small. Where haven’t we gone? What haven’t we discovered? What mysteries are left?

Almost none. And we need the mysteries. Someone change things! Someone, anyone, HELP US. We’re too small in this world, and we’ve lost the ability to go on growing much more.

Someone find a way to bring back the size and the naturalness.

I miss it, even though I never saw it.

Please.

~~HER Chapter Six--Infinity~~

--Jamie's POV--

So now I was alone. Nowhere to stay, no one to love, no one to be with me. I was alone.

So what was I going to do now?

The answer comes easily: Deal with it.

I was going to go through hell.

Why?

She wanted me to.

Could I fight Her?

No.

There was nothing I could do.

Nothing I could do but survive.

And that was something I was planning on doing....

I stand up from the side of the road, pushing myself up from the concrete where I had been sitting. I had to survive. That was all I could do.

Brushing back my hair and groaning, I think to myself, Well, at least She's not here....That's one bright spot, I guess.....

I realize a second later that that was perhaps the stupidest thought to ever reach my mind....

Because of course, a second later I sense Her near me.

I sense Her hand on my shoulder.

I hear Her laugh.

"Hello, Jamie...." She whispers in my ear. "Long time no haunt...."

I trembled--but in fear or relief I did not know.

She was back with me, tormenting me, torturing me.

Was this a good thing or a bad thing...?

Why is it that I missed this...?

Why is it that I missed Her?

I guess I just did.....

I missed this torture.

This sweet, so well-deserved torture.

I drift, let Her near me, let Her whisper in my ear.

I deserved this.....

Even though I do not know a single thing that happened that night, I deserved this.....

This torture.

This torment.


--Logan's POV--

So She was gone. Did I even have to wonder where?

Jamie.

I wished him luck....

At least I was alone now!

I forced away the thought. She was with Jamie--who knew what She was doing to him? And I wasn't there!
I wasn't strong enough....If I went to him, who knew what kind of new hell She would inflict on us both?

But at least neither of us would be suffering it alone....

I forced away THAT thought, as well. He was gone, he was with Her--why did I care? My turn would
come again. It wasn't like anything he was suffering I had not yet suffered. And, if it was new, She was sure
to be inflicting it on me later. I was Her lover, not him!

Wait....Did I just call myself Her lover?

I fall to my knees, unsure as to scream in fear or frustration. Why did I love Her? Why did I miss Her? Why did I need Her?

And who in hell had killed Her, anyways?

I sighed. Would I ever know?

I was sure that Ann remembered seeing Her fall, seeing me get hurt....I didn't even remember that much! All I remembered was me waking up in the hospital, my stomach stitched closed, my mom and dad sitting beside me, looking worried.

I bolted to my feet.

Mom and Dad!

I hadn't called them since....Since that day.

Did they even know I was alive?

Were....Were they alive?

I called Mom, hoping she answered.

She never picked up.

I leave her a quick message, and dial Dad's number, but hang up when I hear a voice saying, This number
that you have dialed is no longer in service....

Oh, my god.

Oh, no.

Were they alive?

I looked online, using my laptop and searching their names. They were alive....

I close it, sighing.

So She hadn't gotten to them.

Maybe She hadn't thought of it...?

I force that thought away.

I just hoped that She never thought of killing my parents....

Would She be that cold?

That cruel?

The answer comes to me in a whisper, "Yes...."

She knew.

She could hear my thoughts....

Well, that was nice to know.

I guess.


--Her's POV--

Could I kill them? To make him suffer?

They were innocents! What had they done to earn their deaths?

They had given birth to him....And they would pay for it.

~~HER Chapter Five--Remembrance~~

--Ann's POV--

had I even got pulled into this? Ten minutes of hell....Ten minutes I stayed with Logan before I ran!

And She didn't follow. How did I even think She would?

It wasn't like I was the one She was haunting. I'd only gone over there to see if Logan was okay, because

Jamie had asked me to.

And now that I was back at my apartment, he was nowhere to be found.

But the kids were, so at least it meant that She hadn't come. I doubted She would have left the children alive.

Danny runs over, and hugs me, saying, "Hi, mommy! Uncle Jamie left!"

Lila walks over to me, tamer than her brother, slower and quieter, "Where did he go, mommy?"

I hug my two little darlings, and say softly, "I don't know, little angels. Wherever he is, he'll come back soon."

Or, at least, I hoped he did. I dialed his cell, but he never picked up.

I give up, and don't call Logan. I didn't want to think of him with Stacy--how could he be so blind as to not
see how I felt about him?

Because I loved him.

I loved him with everything I was.

How long has it been since I kissed him? Since I held him? Since he shared my bed?

The answer came to me easily: The last time was the night She died.

What had even happened that night?

I didn't remember....I remembered feeling afraid, jealous, drunk....Drugged?

It wouldn't have surprised me.

So much had gone wrong that night....Logan and Jamie fighting, Logan pulling me into the closet, Jamie ripping him out of there, slapping him, and telling him to go find Her because She knew.

And then, when he went to find Her, Jamie had followed him up.

But which one of them had pushed Her? I remembered hearing shouted arguments, screams, swears.

But I hadn't seen anything but the sight of Her falling down, down, down to land on the pavement, Her legs spread wide, Her arms spread like wings.

I just stood there, inside, watching as Logan and Jamie burst out, tearing past me to reach Her.
I see them whirl on each other, and fight, grabbing broken pieces of the balcony railing and slashing at each other. I see Jamie stab Logan in the stomach, shoving him away before Jamie falls to his knees beside her, weeping.

Which one of them had killed Her?

Did it even matter?

I just dialed nine one one.

When they came, Jamie was gone, She was stone cold, and Logan was all but dead.

I still hadn't taken a single step.

I try to force away the memories of that night, but they refuse to leave me.

Will they ever let me go?


--Jamie's POV--

I couldn't risk staying with Ann. I just couldn't.

I couldn't risk Her hurting the kids.

So where am I gonna stay now?

I look all around my contacts list, but I don't find a single name.

No one I knew I would risk their safety in return for mine.

So where to go...?

Nowhere.


--Logan's POV--

Ann was out.

It was just me, trapped with Her.

How could I have ever expected her to stay? Ann and I had been lovers once....And for a few brief
moments we were lovers again, but now she was gone! I was out of her heart--she was the best thing that
had ever happened to me. And she was gone....

"But I won't ever leave you....." She whispers, brushing up against me. "And aren't I the best thing...? Or, at least...that's what you told me."

"And I meant it," I assure Her, trembling, "But why won't you leave me...?"

She laughs, touching my shoulder gently, "You know why...."

"But I don't remember what happened that night...." I tell Her, looking away.

She whispers, "That doesn't matter...."

It really doesn't. Who cares what happened? She was still haunting me, Jamie was still off in the middle of
nowhere, Ann was gone....

Nothing matters anymore. But I couldn’t help but wonder why I couldn’t remember….

~~Her: Chapter Four--Control~~

--Jamie's POV--

I hug Logan tightly. I had missed him so much! And now we were friends again....I looked closely at his wound, and I knew how many times he must have punched a wall to inflict that much damage. And I knew that if I came to his apartment I would find broken furniture, dented walls. I knew him well--even now, I
could easily see that he had not changed, remained the same man I had once known.

And now we were united against Her....

Which would not make Her happy.

Logan and I realize this at the same instant, and pull back, afraid.

She would not be happy.

And now that we were together? She could haunt us both at the same time....

Logan looks into my eyes, and rests a hand on my shoulder. "It isn't a good idea to remain near each other, is it?"

I shake my head, and tell him a swift goodbye before we sprint away from each other, racing away, praying
She wasn't going to be following the other, and hoping She wasn't following us.

I did not want Her going after Logan, but I didn't want Her going after me, either.


--Jamie's POV, Ten Minutes Later--

I reach my apartment building to find it burning.

I wrench out my cell, and call Logan. He tells me that the same thing has happened to him--She had gotten to our homes before we did.

We hang up after terse goodbyes, our minds too filled with worries about ourselves to worry about each other.

I search through my contacts, knowing most of my friends I haven't seen in years--not since the day She
died--but yet we'd still kept in touch, stayed updated on each other's lives--I'd just refused to see them.

And now I needed them.

But who to call?

Pat--last time we'd spoken, he was in Jamaica. That was six months ago.

Stacy--we'd never been close. She got too happy for me to be around anymore.

Ann--maybe I could stay with her?

I browsed all of the others, but she was the only name that jumped out at me.

So I dialed.

She picks up, and she sounds surprised to hear from me, "Oh, hi, Jamie! It's been a while--what's up? There a particular reason you're calling your one and only sister for the first time in two weeks?"

I started carefully, speaking slowly, knowing her answer already, "I kinda need some place to stay...."

Ann bursts out laughing. "Of course! That's why you called me....To ask for help!"

"So...can I stay with you?" I ask carefully, hoping.

She takes a second to reply, before speaking slowly, "Why not? I'm busy, but as long as you can take care of yourself and the kids when I'm at work you can come over right now."

Which is when I broach the touchiest subject: "Where do you live, exactly?"

She goes silent, before giving me her address. I hail a taxi, and I go, leaving behind my burning apartment
and everything I owned.

I didn't care anymore.


--Logan's POV--

That bitch! How dare She burn my apartment?

I stare up at the burning building, clenching my teeth. Everything....Everything I owned! My whole life was gone--all because of Her!

I glanced down at my cell, and looked through my contacts. Who could I stay with?

Pat--he was such a jerk! Why was he even in my contacts list?

Stacy--hm....Perhaps her and I could go back to being what we were...?

I browse through the rest of my contacts list, before deciding to pay that cheery girl a visit....


--Ann's POV--

I can't believe he called me! Me, of all people!

I was his sister, but there were so many others he could have stayed with!

I hug Jamie the instant I see him, unsurprised at his lack of bags. I show him to the guest room, trying not to smile too much or act too awkwardly. I didn't know what to say to him--how long has it been since I knew
how to act around him face to face?

And then I remembered.

I knew when: I couldn't be the same around him since I saw him with Her blood on his hands.

He had killed Her....

And yet no one ever said it was him or Logan, never blamed them.

But we all knew.

We just never spoke.

Jamie looks at me, frowning a bit, "You okay, sis?"

"I'm fine, bro." I say, forcing on a grin, "Why wouldn't I be?"


--Logan's POV--

I end up in bed with Stacy in less than two minutes. But a gentleman never tells....

Suffice to say I woke up at noon the next day.

I look over at her, and she was still asleep. I smiled, and toyed with her blond hair before it started boring me. I got up, and looked around, eyeing her apartment. Nothing had changed since the last time I was here--brightly painted walls, cheery-colored furniture, soft covers, plushies.

The sight of the fluffy things makes me think of something: Why was I even sleeping with her?

I turn around, and look at her.

And remember.

She was my freedom. Too happy to let me dwell, too normal to let me be weird. Stacy was just...happy.

And I can't believe how happy she made me, just by being with me.

I lie back down beside her, and hug her gently. She curls against my chest.....How could I be any less happy?

But then I smell Her.

And I sense Her.

She was in Stacy's apartment....

She had followed me!

I couldn't stay. I couldn't risk getting Stacy hurt!

I never even make it a single step before She was resting a hand on my shoulder, and whispering into my ear,

"Hello again, lover...."

I shiver at her touch.

"Get away from me...." I whisper, begging.

She laughs, "Never....."

Which is when Stacy wakes, and calls, "I'm hungry! Where's food!"

"I'll go make it!" I call back, walking through Her on my way to the kitchen, refusing to shiver.

I make Stacy and I eggs, toast, bacon, and pancakes, carrying it all back to her bedroom. We munch happily, and I thank god that she doesn't see the look of fear in my eyes.

When we're done eating, I clear away the mess and clean up the kitchen and wash the dishes, while Stacy showers and gets ready for work.

When we're alone, She approaches me.

"You do not love her....." She whispers in my ear.

"So what if I don't?" I reply, turning to look at the empty space where She was.

She laughs, and says, "Because you're going to break her heart, like you did mine."

"Don't you want me to suffer?"

"Of course I do....I was just enjoying watching you think of replies."

I glare at Her.

She laughs.

Which was precisely when someone pounds on the door, and I open it to reveal none other than Ann, looking at me, her eyes wide. "She's here, isn't She?"

I nod, and ask, "How did you know?"

"Jamie told me about Her a long time ago, how She was haunting him. And because She wasn't with him, we guessed She was with you."

"And you were right...." She whispers, and you can tell from the look on Ann's face that she hears.

Ann swallows, "Long time no see." Ann says, looking all around, trying to pinpoint where Her voice was coming from.

She laughs, before saying, a bit louder, "Wish I could say the same....You may not have seen me, but I have seen you."

Ann flinches.

I take her hand in mine, gently, and pull her into the apartment, closing it behind her. "Ann...I'm sorry. But you're in this now. No point in telling you to go--you'd only have to face Her on your own later."

We stand there, as She laughs and drifts around us, whispering in our ears.

Nothing would ever change....

Why?

Because She controlled us. We could not move without Her seeing, could not speak without Her hearing, and we could not live without Her.

Or, at least, I couldn't.

Ann obviously could, but yet she was with us now, and unless she did the impossible and escaped she was with us until the end.

~~Realizations Half Recognized: Thoughts Post~~

So today I got profiled. I got my mind and behavior picked apart by another, and that person was my evil twin Alex Pratt. She told me a great deal of things about me--things I recognized as true. At the core of my person, I am terrified. Terrified to be what I am, and what I am is different. I know I’m not like anyone else, and while a part of me tries to glory in it, it also terrifies me because I know I will never belong. Terrified to trust, because I’m scared to just get over again. I try to avoid mirrors, because of how bad I feel about myself. I’m feeling better about myself these days, but that is only because I have Ted, who is someone who tells me I’m beautiful every day and treats me that way. Hell, even when I was a cam whore, I still had to fight to think of myself as desirable. Now….Now that I know I’m terrified of being judged a lot of things are slipping into place.

The fact is kiddies, I think I always knew this, at least partly. She was just the one that made these realizations possible. Made them more vocal. More apparent.

I dress fancy because I think it makes me more sophisticated. I have a love of long necklaces and deep necklines because how much better they make my breasts and cleavage look. I never wear socks because they make me feel confined. I rarely wear makeup because I’m scared to fit into the status quo, to be like everyone else, to be a possessor of a label.

I was bullied and told I was ugly my entire life, which led to me believing it. I was insulted and hurt and betrayed by many for my entire childhood, and as my family pretty much always treated me as an adult, I was expected to handle this on my own.

Right now, my shoulders are hunched forward, because I’m hiding myself. At my very core, I am both straining to be seen and noticed while dreading being seen and noticed. I try to be kind, to label myself as an angel, because then I can find a bit more of a sense of self.

I don’t know who I am, my loves.

But I’m going to keep right on trying to figure myself out, just as I have been doin my entire life.

I’m trying to avoid facing up to who I am, because I’m terrified to see who I am. I’m scared to look because I might not like what I see.

Bottom line of all of this is…I’m scared.

And so is everyone else.

Like it or not, this entire freaking world is filled with nothing but scared people. People trying to be someone they’re not, because they’re worried they won’t be accepted.

What are we as a species, loves?

Do we, as a whole, lie or tell the truth?

Answer’s obvious.

We lie.

We all lie.

And just because we lie doesn't mean we're bad....Perhaps we're just being careful about what aspects of ourselves we're showing, instead of lying.

I don't know though, my loves.

I just don't know.

This is Angel skipping out to study world....

PEACE!

~~I Am...~~

I am amazing

Intelligent

Clever

Wise beyond my years

Creative

A good writer

Brave

A good poet

A caring friend

A beautiful girl

Courageous

Hard-working

A bibliophile

Kind

Funny

I am sad

Hurt

Scared

Alone

Worried

A liar

A fake

A depressant

A loser

A loner

Me.

~~Half-Remembered Nightmare~~

I wake in dread

Panting for breath, begging

Pleading with my head

Asking not to be remembering

The things that haunted me

The blue eyes

The lipstick lips that tore at me

As they spoke the lies

"You're a loser, a cunt, a whore!"

"How'd you get in this school?

"Did your face break the glass door?"

"Normally girls rule, but you just drool."

"Get out of my face

"You pathetic bitch

"You'd better learn your place

"And it ain't among a school for the rich."

I hear the voices

I hear the laughter

I try to make different choices

But it just gets louder

I can't escape

I hear the sound whenever I'm awake

My heart has taken on a new shape

This isn't something I can shake

I want to hurt back

I want to make them cry

I want to go on the attack

Punish them for the lies

But I know I'm unable

To make them pay

I wish someone would enable

Me to stand up to it today

But no one but me seems to hear

No one but me seems to get hurt

No one else has reasons to fear

No one else is terrified to wear a skirt

A skirt that won't fit

Won't be right

I just can't take it

I want to get out of here tonight

But, no, my mom's calling

Telling me it's time to go

The bus is waiting

And now it's time for the horror show

I try to get dressed nice

Comb my hair the best I can

But I know I've still got lice

From my mom's last man

I try my hardest to be good

But it isn't working

I just wish that I could

Cause them some suffering

People say high school isn't forever

That I'll get out one day

But I can't go on never

Being able to make them pay

But for now I can't break free

For now I'm trapped here

Will someone please help me?

When I'm paralysed by fear...?

~~I Wished For You~~

I'm so tired of this

Couldn't we have had

One last goodbye kiss?

Something to make me less sad....

But I guess that's not possible

Because now you've gone away

And as I start to tremble

And wish for a new day

Somewhere I know

You'll be laughing

Somehow I know

You'll be done crying

I drop to my knees

Unable to breathe

Whispering, "Please....

"Let me have my dreams."

Do you know why we met?

I had seen a star

And wished that I would get

No matter how far

A girl as beautiful as the dawn

With a soul as pure as the mist

I got you, but now you're gone

Without so much as a goodbye kiss

I try to recall the memories

Of the sweet and beautiful girl, oh so kind

But none come; they only tease

The surface of my mind

I try to hold on

But there's no surface to grasp

And then I witness the dawn

As your name slips from my grasp

I fall down, whimper and try to shriek

But not a sound escapes my lips

I feel so very weak

As I forget the silk of your lips

Oh beautiful, will you remember

Me, the young man

You enchanted last December?

Or will you have forgotten, as only a woman can...?

~~Oh, the Beauty!--Working To A New Dawn Post~~

I'm just tired of things my loves. And that's not a good way for me to be. I'm an Angel, through and through, despite the many faults I possess. The fact that I try and work to help, whenever I can, is far more than what others will ever do. and I will always be trying to help people. Always will be there for people.

And I'm lucky as hell to have people who are there for me.

I have friends....So many friends....

And people who love me with all their hearts. When you think about it, I'm one of the luckiest girls in the world.

I've travelled the world.

Have loved and lost more than I care to admit.

I've written novels.

Written countless trillion poems.

Saw amazing things.

Grew up in a house of luxury.

And I have an amazing boyfriend who worships me, a family online that has spread across the globe, a beautiful girl who adores me, and countless friends who are there for me whenever I need them to be.

I am beyond lucky.

And I need to remind myself of that.

I've come far but I need further. I need more.

And I will get more.

I'm not going to let the past drag me down loves....

I'm going to move on past it.

Into the future, wherever the future will be.

This is Angel signing off with a grin and a middle finger.

Au revior my beautiful ones!

~~kdjnfvdjfncjb cj: hdnbjcbsdfvjbfe~~

Me again world, deciding to sloop back into blogging for a nice little quickie. As you can see, I'm not too deeply inclined on formulating my thoughts, so I'll just give you a handful of little snippets...

Sun-Jung's geography class is doing the same style project as mine. It is weighted the same way. And her class somehow gets two weeks while mine is due tomorrow....WHAT THE HELL?

In drama class, we will get one rehearsal with all of our group members because one of them (who has not showed up to one rehearsal out of about a week's worth) will be in Ottawa. He also is the one with the most trouble remembering things. Again I say, WTH?

On the bridge today, as I read, I spotted on the bridge a single rock that was shaped somewhat like the profile of a man's face. I thought to myself, What if this represents mankind? What if we're balanced over a rushing river, death on either side, held completely still by fear despite rushing winds? What if... This is about when I throw the rock into the river.

It's almost nice not having a cellphone (got grounded from it for three days) because now I can actually focus on things and not worry about them.

My hair is a very nice purple.

I got the awesomest hat ever--NUKE A GAY WHALE FOR CHRIST is the slogan on it. ;D

I think I am ready for my exams. Everything but French at least...

I'm doing my French oral exam either Thursday or Friday. So I'll spend all of Wednesday night studying. I'll be ready enough for it, I know I will be.

I'm working on rereading the Warrior Prophet--the second novel of the Prince of Nothing Series. God it's good to get some actual me time in!

I oughta go on, I think Ian ain't doing well but....I can't do this right now. Not enough time!

I'm done printing off the last of my geography assignment, so this blogger is out for a while--peace!

~~Email Me Ya Idiots.--A Hai Post~~

HAI.

I am bored.

How are you?

Email me at annashadowlight@hotmail.ca.

Not planning on going on Facebook tonight--a ton of work I need to do kiddies.

And I also won't be going on chatango for a good while.

But I will respond to email.

So hit me up.

You know you want to.

HERE--HAVE SOME NINCOMPOOP FAIRIES FOR YOU TO LAUGH AT!

 

~~Thinking Too Far Ahead--A Worried (ish) Post~~

Well hello kiddies, tis me, Angel. Back to blogging after a while away.

How was my weekend, you ask? It was filled with love and lust--just like all my weekends have been lately. Filled with Ted and hope and forgotten pasts and proof of strength. And that's the best thing I could ever ask for. I'm hoping for heaven and expecting hell--who knows what the future holds, anyways?

I'm ready for it loves, even if it scares me.

And right now, I'm supposed to be working on geography and science, but I got stuck on thinking about universities and the future that's coming. Today, I was told to go through an issue of Maclean's 2012 Guide to Canadian Universities. And there are seven or eight universities I found, all of them far away, all of them small, that interest me. My top one is the University of Victoria, which offers insanely good writing workshops with everything I want from poetry to fiction to comic book creation and beyond, as well as what sounds like quite good entrepreneurship courses. And it's also easy enough to get in, and it's insanely beautiful as well. So it sounds like I'll like it there.

Only....

It's so very far away and I'll only be home for summer and maybe Christmas Break. What about Ted? What about everyone else here? Will I still be with them?

*Draws in a good, long breath, eyes shutting tightly.*

Fuck yes I will.

When the time comes, I will kiss Ted, hug him tightly, tell him I love him, hop in a plane or in a car, go to school, and come home to him again.

I won't leave him.

I won't leave any of them.

I'll keep my cell with me, not get involved with anyone too much romantically, and remember the love I have waiting for me back home. Ted and I will have been together for three or four years at that point--and I know that we will be able to last a lot longer. Him and I have a good deal in common, and we balance each other out very well. When we fall silent, we don't need to speak--what needs to be said is said in the touch of hands, of sheltering arms, of puppy dog whimpers and begging looks (I have no pride....) and gentle kisses. We can curl up together with horror movies, Halo, assorted animes, and odd YouTube videos. We can laugh and dance and give each other eyes filled with hidden meanings--love and lust and lifetime promises. We are each other's biggest dreams and biggest desires.

And I won't let him go.

Not for anyone.

Not for anything.

I'm fifteen freaking years old, with a lifetime ahead of me and a lifetime behind me.


I have gone further in fifteen years than many ever will.

And I will keep right on going, and I choose to take him with me....

So to hell with distance--I'm his.

I'm his.

But I'm thinking too far ahead aren't I? I always do that....Worry over nothing. And it's not healthy for me to do.

I love you kiddies, for all eternity, I love you....

Now I shall get back to work on my stuff :3

Au revior!