there was a time that i knew who i was

there was a time... that i felt secure. like i had a hold of something solid. real. that i knew where i stood. where i had been. where i was going. i could see it all so clear. all i had to do is close my eyes. just close my eyes and PICTURE it. let the scenes play out like a movie in my head

but now the movies are all wrong

skewed and skipping and flickering and meshed into each other




most are lies





it hurts trying to tear them apart from each other... to unglue the solid mass of images and faces and voices that may never have said that which i hear or maybe said in another context or perhaps could be complete truth. ..


or maybe its all a complete lie



 sometimes though... i feel something that seems... right. or at least somewhat right.

i think.... i remember who Victor was. Redlight laced that name through many lies... but he was always someone i killed. in the... version. on here. it was someone i used to know. college friends or something. i don't entirely remember. i don't... like... rereading on here. most of it i don't even recall writing...



but Victor.... his eyes. its in his EYES that i think i remember. deep and desperate and just.... wide. so very wide. too wide like someone else's grin? and they reached deep into my soul and screamed why in frantic unvoiced cries because he can't... can't breathe. he was smart. tailored suit and successful. even though he was on the Run. Run from the Slender Man. like so many others. but he still couldn't breath no matter how he thrashed in the ropes no matter how he twisted in panic and horror and just... stared at me... unreal eyes begging...

to remove the duct tape i'd plaaced over his mouth and nose


he could still... get some air.


could hear it leak through his straining


and it onlyy drew the suffering out more



until i couldn't take it anymore



until i couldn't... watch anymore


even with Dimme breathing down my neck

even with her work freshly stitched across my middle



even then...


i ran and grabbed the tape. ripping it off. earning thanks even as he was gasping for breath but i just couldn't take seeing those eyes buldge anymore i... i couldn't...



and then i was on the floor



i didn't know what hit me



but you never did when it was Dimme




i scrambled back. remember the... splinters from the wood eating my hands. until i hit the wall. her further advance towards me only shrinking me further down as i promised to kill him. i swore i would. i'd kill him. but i didn't want to torture him. it wasn't needed. it wasn't... it didn't have to be like that.... i didn't like seeing the eyes like that... the muscles strain like that.... that the Whispers were quiet... that this was just for THEM. Not Him. that we could... make it quick...


i was new


Dimme had yet to break me in




that night, the prey got to see... what happens when a proxy stepped out of line.

i was put on display


a sight of blood and voiceless screams that only came to life as quivering muscles and agonized nerves. paralyzed by the drugs but oh so aware of everything...



like when Redlight had you in your mind, locked up tight? Like that, Sammy?



i could barely crawl

but when Dimme ordered me to stand, i somehow managed.



she put the duck tape in my hands for the second time that night





i hadn't saved him from anything








i'd only... prolonged the suffering







but i didn't rip it off that time






i watched the whole show


trying to keep back the bile



and he never... stopped staring at me





even after his heart stopped







those eyes stayed with me








even... after the corpse was long disposed of.















after Dimme.... was long disposed of....















still. they stared out at me.





dead eyes in the dark












sometimes.... i lay in bed awake.


                                 fully aware that David is as well. since he doesn't sleep until i am. and i know he'll come to say something. anything. just in hopes that i'll open the door just a little wider for him. that i'll volunteer a detail or two. a thought or two. of whatever is keeping me awake this time. whatever is bothering me. eating at me. chewing and gnawing until i wonder if insanity itself is a disease that you can hear munching away inside your skull...

maybe that's why schizophrenics have such a hard time communicating. thinking. piecing just the simplest sentences together...


the munching is just too loud.



and when i don't respond, he'll pull me in closer. arms wrapping around like a barrier. a shield a straightjacket maybe? until i can feel his chest rise and fall with each breath against my back. until i can hear his heart, even feel it. beating steady. strong. alive. until his breath is on my neck and then so are his lips. gentle and brief. trying to get my attention. reassuring me he was there. that i wasn't alone. that i didn't have to face anything alone. not anymore.

i know he wants to talk

he always wants to talk


so i know he's hurt... when i just nod. just nod. and let the silence stretch.


there's nothing to talk about

nothing that hasn't already been gone over.




what good would talking do?




what good has talking EVER done any of us?



 have you wondered that? these stupid blogs we set for ourselves. virtual gravestones once we're gone. we talk to each other. discuss theories and ideas and mock and humor and share the living nightmare...


but what fucking GOOD has it EVER done??


none.

that's your answer.


absolutely none. the suffering is only prolonged. we open doors that we wouldn't have otherwise known Joseph would be alive existed.  we dig our holes deeper. deeper and deeper and deeper until we're certain we're going to come out the other side. certain we're going to find something, if only Wonderland.

but no

we wake up

and realize that we hadn't been digging at all




dead eyes in the dark

 


there was a time that i lectured on here. i discussed one piece of trash after another. shifting through it all as if there was some secret truth behind it. mysterious and forbidden and so jaw-dropping that knowing it would drive you insane. the game. the GLORIOUS game that turns winners into losers and losers into something not even human anymore. barely alive anymore. barely functioning beyond flight or fight, and always choosing flight.

unless there is no flight


unless everything is in our heads


what do we do then...?




what do we do when we can't even be sure if the people around us are anything more than delusions mixed with hope? the straggled, ragged, tortured last remains of hope. hard for breath and barely a thought, but there. clinging. helpless and hopeless and miserable and just wanting to be so damn NAIVE...

it would be too easy to trust David


trust someone had given enough of a shit to bother


trust this reality




this.... whisper of a family







a place to just.... belong





















iit's just too easy








i don't even know


i don't know






i just know that it hurts



it hurts so much









and i'm so tired of hurting

days blur

thats all it becomes





i don't even  know why i'm back on here again. 




the days just blur.

sometimes it's hard for me to... really take notice of one changing to another. its been over a month that i've been with David and yet i... i still feel like... it was only last week that he... caught up to me. that my body turned without my instruction and spotted him.


i can still remember that... brief instant... when i...

felt again


when i felt the rain. cold and stinging. numbing. so sharp and clear after so long of....



nothing



nearly a month





nearly a month of... watching the world from inside my head. my mind. my cell. my prison. at first  i had sccreamed to be helped. to be HEARD. to just... but... eventually i just... watched. watched. and listened. listened to his stream of poisonous words. nothing else to do. nothing else i could do. i was his. his property. his puppet. his toy. to bend and to break. there no way out. no way... out...


i barely paid attention to David. having appeared again through that tunnel vision i had. like he had before. twice before, i think. he was chasing me. or at least my body. my puppetted body. confronting me. he was talking. shouting. calling my name as if i could answer back. i thought it stupid at the time. didnt he see in my eyes that i was already dead?

i know... my strings were tugged to run. to slash with my blades. to aim with my gun. all to keep distance. keep away.

but the third time was different. between the slashes of my gauntlet, Davi d found an opening. his hands closing on my arms. tight. then tighter as my strings pulled me to thrash. to struggle... until that drained away. and the threads that held me. that cut into my flesh and mind just a bit more with every command. the threads.... released. everything swayed. i felt.... like i was sinking. pulled out from behind the curtain to take the lead again. to fill my.... body again. it felt so strange. so forigne. so


hollow


and that grip held me up. held me from collapsing.


itwas so... painful to move again. like whiplash had rooted itself through my neck and spine. spreading its stiffening roots down my limbs.

every sound was too loud

every motion too fast

i heard... my name. a whisper. a breath of relief that sounded like a scream to me.

and my head slowly remembered how to lift. how to... obey my brain instead of the strings... and i found David watching me. his grip on my arms loosening. a victory in those eyes. accomplishment. pride.


it wouldn't last long


because more than the rain. more than the stiffness. i remember what i felt... when i saw those headlights approach. a truck speeding down the road. the light it brought bathing the cold street. washing over it.



a sweet promise whispering to me



a promise... of an End

of never returning to the Strings

of being able to run

to hide

where he could never find me


i remember... David shouted as i tore from his grip. my legs fumbling under me before remembering their purpose. running. running out onto the road. right into that warm glow. that blinding abyss. that soft promise... that... warmth...


the wheels screamed against the pavement

the horn blasting out


and then my legs were taken from under me. and i hit the windshield. glass shattering as if chattering with the rain... and then i felt nothing. for just a brief second, there was nothing around me. i was flying. floating. hovering. and then i met pavement. hard and rough and BURNING across my skin as i rolled with flopping limbs and i felt... such relief... from that pain. the world hazed over even as i felt myself get gently pushed onto my back... even as i swore i saw a... figure in red... standing on the edge of a rooftop overhead... my puppeteer... my master...


your toy was finally broken beyond repair


i thought it was over


and i welcomed... that blackness. that nothingness. i welcomed it. i welcomed the Reaper. welcomed my ride across the River Styx...


but... i woke up. with David. i can still feel with what... cold chill life greeted me back. a life i didn't want. wanted nothing to do with. no part of. it was like some sick joke. tasteless and flat. i just wanted to die. i wanted the promise. when the wheels locked up and everything jerked and cracked...


i only wanted....



to see the Road again


under that Golden Sky


i wanted my escape


i just... don't want to remember anymore



i don't want to remember how... adamant i was. how confident. how assured that he wouldn't break me. couldn't destroy me. not ME. not the manipulator of manipulators. not the idiotic piece of garbage that liked seeing life as one grand joke. a joke that had turned sour and needed some spice to liven up the mood. not me... who laughed at those who saw themselves as my superiors. who just seemed to take it... all in stride... always knowing what came next....



god how stupid was i?



no matter what i did


no matter what i tried


said


wanted


believed



it was all garbage



i know... nothing. i am nothing. perhaps that's what Father... the Slender Man... wanted to show to me from the beginning. that very first time. standing in the doorway with flickering lights overhead. tilting His head at me. little pathetic me. who wanted to inspire the young... as if i was anything special myself...
  

"...David?"

 "Hmm?"

"...Why are you...                                                                                                 

so hell bent... to keep me alive?"                                                                                                                   

                                                                                       "Because you're important to me,

                                                     and the world is better with you in it."

"...David, I'm not---"                                                                                                 

                                                                      "---It's okay, Sam. I know.
                                          I know that you don't believe it...
                                                                                  I know you're having a hard time 
                                                          believing anything right now...

                                                                                        But every once in a while... 

                                                                                                               I can still see you, Sam.
                                
                                                                                                        Who you think you aren't anymore.

                                                     You're still there.
                                                                            Beneath the rubble, you're still there. 
                                                                                                 You have no idea how amazing that is.
                                                            I'm not saying it's not a slow road but...
                                                                     you're going to be okay.

                                                                                Trust me."

 'trust him'...  because he'd been there before.

because he'd been broken and rebuilt himself from it. because he'd endured. persevered. overcome. and when i tried to tell him that i wasn't like him... that i couldn't... get past what Redlight had done to me... he only smiled and said that he was no one special. trying to tell me how much i'd done already. reminding me (as if i needed reminding) of how i could do little more than cry and claw at my own face at the beginning. how i was having "civil conversations" with him now. how i... was eating a little. resting a little, even if not entirely sleeping... how i even called him 'darling' once or twice... stupid little pet names...

i couldn't look at him



he sounded so hopeful


so... certain of me




it hurt





how could i possibly look at him... as i told him that he done all that?





as i told him that i would never...

have pushed this far. that the only reason i was still alive.... 

was because he had stolen my towel so i couldn't even throw it into the ring. 

that he'd taken it. so i couldn't give up. give in. just be damned with the whole fucking thing and just... run. run to the one place that Redlight wouldn't be able to find me.

 that David pushed me through things that i never... that...

                                                                                                                                                                  that i didn't want...
                                                                                                                                                                                                  and still don't want...


i told him
that there was no point in denying it


it was all him


i was just the puppet

along for the ride



Redlight had been right about me



i was only ever... just the puppet...

he'd been right...







and that was when David... got up and left.







it took a few minutes for me to realize... what exactly i had done.

                                                                                               what i had said.

the realization seized my throat in an iron grip. and just kept squeezing tighter.



i wanted to take it back


i wanted.... to scream in frustration. in self-loathing for my own stumbling tongue. stumbling wit and mind. how useless was i? how miserable could i be to compare the man who was draining himself dry trying to help me to the son of a bitch that ruined me? that ripped me apart and amused himself finding different ways to put me back together....? how could i...


how could i possibly hurt David like that?


i didn't want to hurt him. i didn't want to make things so impossible for him. he was the only one left who gave a shit about me. who hadn't left me behind. who picked me up and carried me onward when i didn't... have interest in doing it myself. for any kind of future. the man who let every sharpened word... every... cruel remark... roll right off his shoulders....

i threw the covers off me. grabbing my useless legs and swinging them off the side of the bed. forcing myself up. making a grab for my wheelchair... because there was no way i was going to let that cut sink any deeper than it already had. there was no way i was going to... let my own poison hollow him out. i needed to follow him. talk to him. apologize until it made some difference... but i hadn't even managed to get into my wheelchair yet before David came back. i was barely seeing him. babbling about how i hadn't meant it that way. begging him to forgive me. that i was sorry...


i'm so sorry


and yet he seemed more worried about my... panic...than any kind of hurt i'd made. speaking soft. trying to soothe my rushing mind of contradicting thoughts. trying to assure me that he wasn't going to leave me. even as part of me wanted him to, so i wouldn't hurt him anymore. that i wasn't going to be alone. even as part of me screamed for it, so i wouldn't have a reason to stay anymore. that everything was okay. even as part of me sobbed that it never would be...

he handed me a towel

he told me that... i was right. 

that, so far, i hadn't had a choice in much. 

that he had pushed me into recovering this far. 

but... he wasn't going to do that anymore. 

he wasn't going to force me to heal if it wasn't what i really wanted. he wasn't... going to keep me here... just to satisfy his own need for company. he told me that.... i was well enough to make the choice now. 

that i could throw in the towel. 

he said i could make it all end. 

that he... would kill me himself if that was what i wanted. 

that he would... make it quick. 

that i wouldn't feel anything. 

that it would all... 

just stop...

he said i could hang onto it.
keep my wall up.
keep hiding.
keep running.
keep... dwelling.
keep trying to sort things out on my own.
keep living... and dealing with everything that came with it...

or... i could hand it back to him. 

that i... could let him help me. 

admitting... that i needed his help. 

to give up some degree of control... 

and allow him to make the choices that i was... 

that i am... in no condition to.

i had my escape


i had it there in my hands


i had the choice... the chance... to finish what the truck had started



i didn't have to be afraid anymore



i didn't have to be... in pain anymore


i could forfeit


i could admit defeat


and just... end



my story... could finally have an end



and in that silence that stretched... i'd' never... seen David look so miserable. there was no wall up. no mask to cover his weakness. he knew... what i wanted. that i... wanted to toss the towel to the floor. i'd said it so often... all he could do was harden himself to the reality of it. he was trying to accept it. trying to accept... that he'd been wrong about me...


and Redlight had been right


but i... didn't want.... to prove David wrong. i didn't... want to leave him alone. to make all his efforts a waste of time. waste of energy. i didn't... want to abandon him in fear of the Devil... when he promised me so often that he'd never abandon me for anything. when he put so much into me. correcting me. or trying to. time and time again. every time i called myself worthless. useless. every time i... cheapened my value. when i claimed to not have a purpose here anymore...



he believed i was worth something



i still have no idea what that could be


but i... decided it was about time that i trusted him


to try to... prove him right




i slowly held the towel out for him.




it felt so foreign for me. like i was pushing against my own will. my own... instincts. my entire body trembling. shivering. i felt... so faint... so thin... as he tentatively took it from me. as i felt the material... slip through my fingers. as i felt the chance i had been waiting for die without me...


god it hurt


but it was the choice that i made

a promise to try


to try to take... myself back

try to take... my mind... back


David's been helping me anyway he can. that night was the first night... that i gave up trying to sleep alone. we share a bed and he wakes me if... when i start... reliving something. other times he just... talks to me. talks for hours. talking about nothing and everything about his life and thoughts and experiences and people he knew and noticed and just... anything. anything to fill the silence on days which is far from silent in my head. when i just... want someone to drown out the voices. if only for a little while. when i just... need an anchor. a reminder of which reality i'm trying to cling to.

sometimes... 

sometimes i'm the one telling the stories. small stories of little consequence. little effort. David always listens with such... keen attention. even when there's barely any point to the story being told. even if the only point at all is that i... actually remember it... and i think it's real. that it might really be one of mine. my real memory...

finding even a scrap of Truth amongst the disaster zone inside my skull... is nothing short of a miracle.


i see have a long way to go.....




but i'm trying




i even... started a journal a little while ago







just a little.... writing exorcise 
















to try to help me... deal with some things...




























i just get so tired

we're moving.

must have been on the road for six hours so far. going to be another two at least before we're even going to change roads. all that matters right now is getting away. we'll sort out the rest when we get there. personally, i really... am not liking this. it's the first time we've moved since i woke up and it's all going to be new again and i can't...

i don't know... i don't like it when things change anymore. i like knowing. i like routine. the familiarities.

but that's all burning behind us now

 i don't know... if they found us because i was stupid enough to post on here and draw attention or if it was just coincidence or if... if it was anything to do with... with her... but i guess it doesn't matter. not really. we're all alive. a little burnt and bleeding and my head hasn't stopped throbbing but... we're alive.

one of them had said something about a proxy called Fracture. i don't remember that name, but my memory is... clouded over in a lot of areas... and far too detailed in others...

David said he knew the name though.


apparently David's head is worth $100,000.

i guess Fracture is a fan of his


mine is worth $25,000.

for a damn cripple


ridiculous.


i guess they weren't expecting a fight from me. can't say i was either.

after three attempts at my own life, i told David before that i'd... stay for a little while... but if the Game found us, i wouldn't fight back. that i'd just... let someone have bragging rights. if there is even anything left to brag about anymore. i didn't want to fight. i didn't want to run. i just... couldn't take it anymore...


now i've done both


but i really... didn't have a choice. David had gone out for groceries. leaving Em alone with me. trusting Em alone with me, and when i... saw that shadow pass by the window... when the hairs came up on the back of my neck... i Knew. i Knew and i just... at first, i was somewhat relieved to be in what i thought might be my last moments... but then i remembered Em...

i couldn't let them have her

my life may barely be worth a single cent at this point but... she's only a little girl. and i couldn't betray David by not... "stepping up" to protect her the best i could. so i barricaded us in a room.... and as it turned out... a cripple can still handle a shotgun just fine.


then they set the house on fire


the hows and whats of it don't matter. if David hadn't come back when he had, we wouldn't have made it out. or, at least, i wouldn't of. theoretically, Em should have been okay beneath the water in the bathtub... least for a little while. i don't really... remember much about David showing up. i remember... aiming down the barrel out a window... i remember having a harder and harder time to breathe and the HEAT that just kept rising every time i thought it was impossible for it to burn anymore than it already was and i remember... i remember the pounding in my head swaying

everything shaking everything until i could see the door

 rattle on its hinges

 with every POUND that echoed and split and GNAWED at my skull and i.... 

and i heard him on the other side. 

a voice. a voice that wasn't. 

that couldn't BE because it had already been DONE so long ago...

 so very long ago... yelling at me. pleading with me. to just unblock the door. 

begging me... not to leave him there to burn...

not to leave

Owen

there to burn...

 
he sounded so desperate so TERIRFIED voice just

 VIBRATING 

out from beneath the ROAR that engulfed the house that just got hotter and hotter until i wasn't sure what burned more my body or my mmind

na d god it stung and i still couldn't

breathe

David told me... that i was speaking fluent gibberish by the time he got to me                                       carrying a soaking wet Em wrapped in his coat in his arms












she's laying down in the backseat now




fast asleep


David's been running on coffee. i wish i could take a turn at driving to give him a chance to rest, but this wouldn't be the first time being paralyzed from the waist down has proven me useless. so i've claimed map duty. trying to stay one step ahead of where we are by the light of a small flashlight. David keeps glancing over to me. keeps telling me i should sleep. that he'd be okay for a while. that i need it. but i just... can't. not like this...

not like this...

why can't you people
 just
 leave us alone?









we're not part

of your Game anymore
















we just



want



to be left

alone

how much longer

 is this going to go on for

how much furtherr

 is it going to spread

is anyone even

TRYING to stop it

 can it even be fucking stopped/



It was..... inside her.  i FELT It inside of her. she wasn't one of us, she was a NORM. she didn't know a damn THING and i just... i felt It... i felt... the RED...  and i just... panicked. she had been trying to HELP ME. trying to help the stupid cripple in the goddamn wheelchair and her arm brushed across mine and i just... i panicked and nearly sent a display flying...


all i could see


all i could. hear


all i could... feel


was him


The Devil.


The Network


Those stirngs on mme agian wrapping around coiling around strangliing me SMOTHERING ME as those arms came around pulling me back against him back TO him tightening like snakes until ii thought my bones were going to splinterr and break and his hand clamped over my mouth and i couldn''tt breathe

please god ijust wantt to

 braethe

words no more than poison

when he asked if ii would smile for him

                                       just

            smile                                                 

and then it wasn't his arms... but David's. the same damn stubborn git that scrapped me off the road under the cold rain that night,

                                                                    that held my wrists so i wouldn't claw at my own face when i woke up a few days later. breaking and crying in torment that clawed down deep to my very core. cursing him for saving me. cursing him for not letting me die

 and would later be bandaging those same wrists when he walked in to find me trying to bite through my veins. a pathetic wreck of a human just making a pathetic attempt to end the scraps of life i had left. begging him to leave me. to let it happen. to just let it END. spitting on him when he silently refused. silently took anything i threw at him. no matter how cruel the words.

 he just kept holding onto me. 

holding on as i wept after he'd pulled me up from the bathroom floor. the bottle of bleach torn from my hands and mouth and thrown clear across the room. ynaking me up and pulling me into his arms even as i wept about it not being enough. it burned. my mouth, my throat, all inside... but it hadn't been enough. pain for nothing. pain tha tonly lead to more pain and no relief as i burned and threw up and David never once left me

snarling at him to just get it fucking over with.
throwing off the covers and telling him to go ahead. that i didn't care.
fuck me.
it was what he wanted, wasn't it? why he was bothering with me like this?
now that his other two "fucktoys" were dead, he needed another to take their place.
but he just... pulled the covers back up. speaking soft and slow. telling me i needed to rest.

trying to get me to calm down

 just like during my night terrors and hallucinations 

and everything that just snowballs on itself. when i can't stop the voices can't stop myself from screaming out and breaking 

crumbling 

crying 

as it all becomes REAL again. 

when i FEEL it all again and HE'S there instead of David and i beg for it to stop. to just be left alone. left to die. and i get so tired but i can't sleep. can't sleep without seeing HIM without feeling my hands close around Winston's throat again and it all becomes just too muhc. just too much to take. to burden and i don't want to live with the pain anymore

 just like at the store.
when i could feel the Red ON me again... and he was suddenly there. he'd come back. arms around me. forehead to mine talking soft so soft just trying to bring me back to.... calm me down. reminding me... i could breathe. to take my time. to talk.

to tell him what was wrongg

god it's ALL so wrong... why don't any of you SEE THAT??!?

she's going to go home to her family and friends and she's going to bring HIM with her everywhere she goes. it's in the RED. i saw it on her. didn't notice at first, but after i Knew, i saw it.

a tiny tattoo of a heart just behind her ear.

her mark

HIS mark

so subtle

even the bloodspot in my eye was more obvious than that

but both are enough. both are all he needed to tie us up. force us down the line. jerk our legs and swing our arms while our minds end up LOST behind the SMOKE AND ASH....



how is this

 ever going to be alright?

it just keeps spreading



it's only ever going to get worse




everything







only ever gets worse