October 19th, 2011
Muse...Peter is trying to help me. Is he really fighting Black on the inside? Is that why I was released by him in the first place? I want to talk to him so badly, but I have to stay realistic HA! Realistic, that word should be banned at this point.
I called Mom and Dad. Told them not to worry. God it was hard to make that call only twenty minutes. What could I tell them? What do I hide? I should just be honest. “Hey Mom. No, I'm fine. I just got possessed by a spirit that is the personification of the sin of envy. But it's okay because I get to be myself for an hour everyday.” Instead I did the next best thing.
I told them I was in the hospital.
I got all kinds of crap for that. They yelled at me so bad. I sounded sad and remorseful but I couldn't keep the smile off of my face. I loved hearing their voices. I miss them so much. And I can't help but entertain the idea that I won't ever be seeing them again.
God, will I see anyone again? I'm putting the fate of my body and potentially my soul on the line here. What the hell was I thinking. Damn you Peter. And damn me too. All the religious references come to mind. Sheep like us get lost and slaughtered. Ink, Daft, Peter, Tiro, Paul, Myself, even Crux. I'm not one to look to be saved by others, but even now I'll admit that I can't do this alone. So I'll stay here, waiting. With the pain.
Please help us.
Save us.
Send someone quick.
Or if that person is already here, give them a clue.
October 20th, 2011
She's trying to hurt me. Showing me things from my past, helping me remember every stupid or bad thing I ever did. It's too bad I left my shame in another life. I keep telling her it's human nature to make mistakes. It's how we learn.
Now she's trying the "we're not so different you and I" routine. She apparently has never watched a James bond movie either. I will say this though, I've had quiet a number of negatives thoughts before. Everything from suicide to murder. I suppose my strong willed nature has stopped me from doing anything rash.
I decided to have this day, this hour, to myself. I have nothing else to report to my friends. Just the same old problems. I fixed myself an egg sandwich with all I have left in the fridge. Then I sat outside. The music on my computer was already on random but the song that came on was wonderful. Some kind of classical, hymn sung by monks or something. Given to me by a friend a long time ago. I smiled because it seemed appropriate. The best ten minutes of my life.
How much longer can I go like this? Can anyone hear me? Does anyone even care, really? I sure look like a lost cause. Maybe I should just stay offline. Spend my hour just like this. After all the pain and anger this is the only peace I get. Do this until I finally wither and die, or give up. It would be a peaceful way to go. Or maybe.....
Could that even work? It never sounded that hard before. And now I have a legitimate reason. It will look just like suicide but I'll end up killing her too. Or at least banishing her away. I don't think I could just yet. God forgive these thoughts, but their all I have any more.
I won't be sorry for what little I do have.
October 21st, 2011
My apartment.
It's clean.
And changed.
The sheets I wake up on feel like silk. Across the way is an antique armoire with a large mirror, surrounded by gold leaf decoration. The walls are a dark grey with hot pink curtains that stretch to the floor with giant matching tassels. As I get up I notice what I should of seen first, a very large, very expensive diamond necklace sitting on top of a glass and gold jewelery box. It wasn't until then that I noticed my pink silk pajamas with embroidered initials, CR. What the hell does the R stand for?
My freshly manicured hands pick up the hand mirror of the an evil step mother. Seriously, she already has the giant mirror does she need a miniature version? An envelope filled with cash and cards was laying beneath. It seems the Duke is taking care of his concubine. After all she has been such a good sister.
When I enter the living room I'm greeted by a giant chandelier hanging where my standard fan and lights used to be. The damn thing takes up a good chunk of the actual space and I have to walk around it to see the rest. A large gaudy upholstered couch with sequins occupies where my crappy futon once laid. (seriously it was in the bed position constantly because it had broken years ago) The TV is gone, and has been replaced with a miniature shrine to the Duke. His tumblr picture in a silver frame that you get for peoples weddings. Sitting on top of an elaborate...stool...thing. I don't know its gaudy as fuck and as I look around I know what a gay man's wet dream must now look like. The far wall has a large glass case with various trinkets including a collection of crystal animals from...Swarovski? Shoes and dresses, crystal and silver, gold and jems. The theme of this place has become painfully clear. It's the playful trove, come to life. Nothing of me is left here. Every painting, trinket, book and piece of cloth that was mine has been removed. It was as if I had never existed here.
My life, my self was being erased. And replaced with another version. I thought I had felt helpless before. What is worse? Watching your friends disappear and die?
Or watching yourself be over taken and lost forever?
This all happened so quickly. Even with everything going on this piece of me still exists. How have I not completely lost myself? At least I can die knowing I never went to the Empty City. At least I never had to see the TREE.
The Tree
I haven't seen it yet.
I never saw the TREE! I'm not split. I'm still me, whole. Just being controlled. Because I let it. Oh my God! I still got a chance! I have to tell the others!
October 22nd, 2011
I finally got to talk to him. I haven't seen Peter in so long. He confirmed what I had hoped for. He's fighting too. Finally, finally I have some thing worth fighting for.
But Peter is still worried. I don't think he has any hope for himself. I have to turn that around. He told me he would fight along side me. As long as he does, I will.
My last fifteen minutes were spent walking around outside. Just as I was getting home I heard the computer playing another appropriate song. The feeling, the words coming from it made me smile. The seeming “random” play makes me wonder if some one is out there. Trying to tell me that help is around. Quickly, I post it to Peter's tumblr. He needs to believe this will work.
I grow stronger each day. Hopefully soon, I'll find a way to regain control and put Crusher where she belongs. I read once that a warrior never complains, because she knows she can change her environment to suit her needs. Tomorrow I begin negotiations with Crusher for her things and my body. Let this be the leverage I need.
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