Laments of the Doomed: Crusergirl

Part 2
October 23rd, 2011
It worked! We negotiated and extra hour of control for one of her things. i'm still conserned though. She agreed too quickly. I'm trying my best here but I have to be careful.
I went online to check in. Georger (Gorger) was in there. Talking around me. It looks like everyone wants to make deals. I guess they need more folowers or something.
And now there are four of them. Dean is hosting one called Damocles. He keeps talking about getting rid of the others. He says he can lock them all back up. This whole thing sets off my bullshit meter but the prospect of them fighting each other sounds promising. Peter talked about the Duke planning to betray them. Perhaps they all want to be top dog eventually. Crusher seems to only be conserned with herself and her things. I suppose she dosen't even suspect Duke. Does she even hold any real power? I guess the sin itself is enough.
Six deals left. I better make them count. Congratulations Crusher you get your shoes back.

October 24th, 2011
God, I feel so weird today. Besides the alternate personality that is. I think I actually slept. I haven't slept since this whole thing began. I may no longer be the dominant personality anymore but she made sure to torture me by showing me the crap she was doing. Now, I'm concerned that I don't remember anything from the last time I was in control. No torture, no mind games, just sleep.
I negotiated another hour for her crystal mouse. This doesn't feel like its working. I need to do something drastic. Izzie suggests spamming Crusher's tumblr again.
Sounds good to me.
My fighting has resorted to the most childish antics to get my frustrations out. How fucked up is that? Izzie, Sam and a few others help me by sending posts of cute cat videos. I even have some time left so I grab the condiments in the fridge and give these grey walls some color. I didn't relize what a wonderful medium ketchup and mustard can be. Stepping back I noticed I drew my cats. I miss them so bad. Thank God they aren't here to see this. To see me. Thank God Crusher didn't get them. Depression made me leave the chatroom this afternoon.

October 25th, 2011
She killed them.
She killed my cats. She had them here all along. Hiding them, starving them, torturing them. I didn't even know until Singer showed me Crusher's post. As I read it, the way she described it, I could see it happening. Her memories flooding into mine. Like watching a video. Right in front of my eyes. I didn't kill them, but they think I did. They saw momma cat crushing them one by one.
I tried to run and hide but Crusher wouldn't let me. I have to spend the next two hours in moruning for the one of the last things connecting me to this world. One of the last pieces of hope I had. I could hardly type, let alone write.

I'm going to kill that Bitch. I won't just get my body and mind back, I'll make her pay. For everything she's done to me, my friends, everyone.
I'm going to take this sadness, and convert it to anger. I'll get her back.
I FUCKING SWEAR IT!

October 29th, 2011  

That place.

It was so beautifual. It felt so real. I can still feel the wind on my face and smell the fishy lake water in the air. Sand grains beneath my feet and in between my toes. The cabins and the swingset. It looked just like my childhood home from so long ago. Every summer, my most fondest memories.

And then everyone was there. Singer, Mennos, Sam, Peter. Oh when Peter showed up it made everything that much more perfect. We wern't split or broken or in pain. The silence, the peace.

Why did you wake me from that?

Why did I need to come back?

I wanted to stay there forever. But he wouldn't let me. He brought me back.

They say its a false place. A place that I went to hide from what has been happening.

I don't care if that's true. I had everything I wanted there. Why didn't you see that?

They said to never go back.

I'm going back. Someday when I can.

When everyone has given up on me.

I'd rather live there than die alone.

Even if it is a dream.

Fake.

It's mine. All mine and belongs to nobody else.

Laments of the Doomed: Crusergirl

Part 1

October 19^th, 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 20^th, 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 21^st, 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 22^nd, 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.