Thursday, March 21, 2013

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....


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


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




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...



"...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 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

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