Transportation Arrangements

Well, I got my car. It's a 1997 Honda Accord, and I got it for about $2000 (which meant it has about a billion miles on it).

It's a piece of crap, but I'm armed with a car manual and checklist of things to watch out for, so if something goes wrong, I should be able to handle it.

And if all else fails...duct tape.

I'm writing from the "lounge" of another truly awful hotel. I've lost track of how many bugs I've seen crawling on the walls, but at least nobody asks questions. I'm a bit...conspicuous with my face all cut up, so hopefully those will heal soon. I'm just glad the doctors didn't ask about the scars on my arms; I would've had a hard time explaining. "Oh, don't mind those, doctor, I think they're just remnants of an eldritch abomination trying to kill me. Nothing to worry about."

Right then. New Jersey, here I come.

Decision Expansion

So, about that car.

I made my decision to stop relying on public transportation and get a car after I was jumped by a proxy while on a bus.

That sentence sounds incredibly grammatically awkward, but I can't bring myself to make it better.

I'm...not exactly sure what happened. I was sitting in my seat near the front, staring out the window and trying to stay awake, when...God, I don't really know. But somebody punched me and there was blood and it hurt hurt hurt and people were screaming and...

It was not fun.

When my brain had finished processing "punched in the head, somebody's trying to kill you," I realized I was pinned in the aisle of the bus, and some big guy was reaching for my throat. He was huge, way stronger than me. I tried to scramble away, but he got his fingers around my throat and was squeezing and I couldn't breathe it hurt couldn't breathe

Then I...

I don't know...

I just remember there was this hideously loud sound and crashing. Maybe the bus crashed. Maybe we slammed into something. Hell, maybe a Goddamn unicorn ran in front of us and impaled the bus on its horn. I don't know. But I found myself lying face down in glass and metal. There was blood all over the place, people crying. I couldn't move, and everything hurt so damn bad...Somebody came over and look at me, felt my pulse.

They held my hand.

It...whoever that person was...thank you. I wish I could've seen your face.

It seemed like forever, but eventually I heard the sound of the ambulances. They started loading people up. I think I passed out as they came for me.

I woke up in the hospital a while later. The accident was on Monday night, and I came to early Tuesday morning, spent the next few days recuperating. I'm lucky. I came away with just a cracked rib and my face all cut up, but some people on that bus...they didn't make it.

God, I feel...I feel so guilty. If I hadn't been on that bus...

So yeah.

Getting a car and getting the hell out of this state. New Jersey's my destination. Why?

Because my mother's from New Jersey. I don't know what I'll find there, but I'm planning to head over to her hometown and...do...something. I guess. I'm just flailing around here.

So that's been my week.

I've had better.

Decision

Two things.

I'm getting a car.

I'm going to New Jersey.

Will post why later.

Thought Swilling

I've lost time again.

But this time, it isn't because of some eldritch abomination screwing with my brain or my memories revolting or my brain going pphbth because it can't process what happened.

Nope, nothing like that.

I just went on a binge.

It's...kind of surprising how much you can drink when you put your mind to it.

And that was a stupid, stupid, stupid waste of time that only got me my first ever hangover. Christ, I don't even want to know how much I puked.

So scratch 'drink your brains out' off my list of coping mechanisms.

I'm tucked away in the back corner of another library. After I came to this morning in that same hotel from my last post, face down in my pillow and stinking of cheap beer, I realized I had to get moving. Of course, I had to wait for a bit before my head felt vaguely non-nuclear-explosion-ish. A very long, very cold shower helped a bit. So here I am, with my icky-feeling clothes and faithful laptop. Hopefully, the next place I stay for the night will have a laundry somewhere.

While I was on the bus earlier, I found myself staring out the window, flinching every time I saw a man in a suit or a tall tree. Am I going to spend the rest of my life like this, cringing and hiding and running and never being able to sit down without staring over my shoulder for something trying to kill me?

I don't want this. I don't want to be like this until I slip up and get ripped apart.

I need to find something to work towards. People in the blogs, they generally have more on their list than just 'evade Slender Man.' I've got to find something to put on mine.

heheh oh damn

ladies and gents i have discoveredthejo ys of underage dri nking

not thatdru nk just a c ouplme i thiiiink but manthis is fuuuuuuuun

holaed up in some godfosaken hotel from helll where they donte even card yu at thbe bar

im ond the third flooor so slenderderp cant see me isnt that what m sa id woould work

wheeeeeeeeeee evrythilngs funny when yor buuuuuzed even ne arly dyinnng and stufff

heh im goin g dto bed so niight night all

Lethargic Huddle

Nothing happened today.

I think I spent the entire day buried under these ratty covers.

I don't want to move. I don't want to think. I don't want to eat. I don't want to sleep.

My parents are gone. My home is gone. I'm 18 years old and have nowhere to go, no one to depend on.

I know there are others in worse straits than me. At least a proxy isn't trying to stab my eyes out or something.

But when you come to and it's 10:00 at night and you realize that you haven't left your bed once all day, it's kind of hard to get perspective.

This isn't healthy. It's not going to help me, and if I stay in one place, I'll probably be found.

So I'm going to try again tomorrow. One step at a time, just get out the door and move on.

To anyone who's reading this, I hope your day was more productive and less depressing than mine.

Sleep Preclusion

It's...way too late. I should be trying to sleep.

But I'd really, really prefer not to.

That post story thing I wrote for Frap's plan on the equinox...I don't know how much of it is what really happened and how much is just my messed-up imagination filling in the gaps. But if it is sort of real, if my admittedly-foggy memory of that day is semi-accurate...

Then my dad is dead. My mom is almost surely dead. Christ...

I don't have a home. I don't have a house. I don't have anything in the world but the contents of this ratty backpack and a hotel card key.

Changing the subject before I get bogged down in miserable self-pity, which isn't going to do me any good.

Vivi and Chester of Exilis Veritas no longer remember anything about Slender Man. They can live a normal life. I'm glad for them. Been reading their story for a couple months now, and they deserve whatever break they can get. I don't know how permanent this'll be, but at least they're happy. More people should be happy.

And that sounds like a narm-filled cliche off a Care Bear show.

There's nothing really to say. I'll be moving on again in the morning. Debating getting a cheap car with the money in my account so I don't rely on bus fare, but gas prices are making me question that choice. I just wish I could remember what happened after...after Dad told me to run. I still am not sure how I ended up here.

I guess I'll find out later. Right now, I'm going to try and sleep.