Getting it off my Chest

Hey, internet!

So, I originally wanted to leave it at that comment I made, but I just couldn’t. I’ve had this on my mind ever since. So a bit of angry rambling now – I’m sorry!

EDIT: I just realized that I didn’t even address anyone but Jeremy in this for the most part… please forgive me, internet!

So the other day, this one blog showed up in the blogroll of my Dashboard: Shut up Jeremy. I had some time and was in the mood to read a little and what did I find? A photo of my Prince!

Apparently Jeremy, the author of that blog, has recently met Him! You can probably imagine how excited I was to see that. So I commented on it, read some more, commented some more and tried to calm Jeremy down a bit, because he seemed to be rather uncomfortable with my Prince around. Which I can understand, if you can remember my earlier blogposts – I have been too. He is unsettling to be around sometimes even now, because He’s just so unlike a human. I’m sure often when He looks at me, He actually smiles. It’s just hard to smile without a face…

Anyway, this was Jeremy’s response to that:

To the girl who’s been commenting on all my posts, Fiona…I read through your blog first. You are…insane. I’m not going to say I have a lot of experience with this shit but that thing is not your boyfriend. It kills children, or forced Reiner to kill them…you seem nice, okay, but you are really fucked up, and your posts…your most recent posts show you’re in a lot of trouble whether you realize it or not. Don’t tell me you’re his girlfriend. You’re fucked in the head if you think that.  You really are.

No, I didn’t leave out or change a single word in this. I mean wow, Jeremy! I really only meant to calm you down and cheer you up a little, no need to talk to me so harshly. :( And honestly, I’ve spent three months with Him now, a bit more if you count the time we dated in our dreams. He leaves the room if I politely ask Him to, He still places a black rose on my windowsill every night (I planted them in the rose garden we built behind the mansion – it’s beautiful, as soon as they touch the ground, they dig their roots into it!) and it’s not as if He just jumped out of a bush to stalk me. He actually politely invited me to a date first. Or what would you call it when a man goes out with you to dance with you in a rose garden He created Himself for that very moment? He never hurt anyone around me, He never forced me to do anything, but instead He showers me with everything I can wish for. And I love Him. I love Him so much you have no idea! It actually physically hurts that I can’t just cuddle with Him, that I can’t hug Him when He stands across the room, that I can not even kiss Him without passing out before my lips reach His skin. I miss Him when He’s not here and I talk to Him about pretty much everything. And He listens to me.

He’s being a perfect gentleman about everything so far and it makes me mad that I keep getting shit for loving Him because the internet and those insane people say He’s evil. I’ve read about your Reiner, who keeps blaming my Prince for the child murders in your town. For some reason you believe him that he knows the crime scene, was there when it happened (as he stated in one of the letters), knew the children, looked uncannily much like the culprit but is not to blame for anything? He even said “The man is for those who hurt children” or something like that in one letter. I don’t know about you, but to me, that sounds pretty much as if my Prince was not very happy about this guy being nasty to children, and less as if He was nasty to them Himself!

So yeah, before you start giving me shit for being in a relationship with someone I know for three months and then some and went on dates with, because a mentally unstable stalker told you so – stop and think again.

Dammit.

I’m sorry, internet. But I needed to get that… well, off my chest.

…now I’m all uncreative all of a sudden. Oh well.

Nini, internet!

Speak of the Devil

Hi, internet!

Turns out we were right about someone having been seen together with Fiancé. It was a boy about my age and he was planning to kidnap me.

I know this because Jonathan s͏t̀͟o̴p̶͟ped him from doing it. :) He’s totally the most awesome bodyguard ever, I swear!

So I’m going to call this guy R̢ų͞nner from now on. You’ll see why.

Fiancé told him where I live and he and Run̷̕ner had put a lot of work into figuring out when I am usually alone and stuff. Now a few days before, some of my Prince’s people spotted him around and I had to shut up for a little while again. :( Anyway, last night, he finally dared doing it and tried to snatch me away while I went to the kitchen to get some popcorn for a movie I was watching.

I don’t even know how Jonathan did that, but he was in there like before Runner could even blink and had him in a tight grip that’s usually used by policemen! He didn’t even get a chance at touching me!

So uh… I know some people might scold me again for this but we didn’t hand Runner over to the police. I just couldn’t do it. He looked so starved and dirty, his clothes must have been months old at the very least. So I kind… gave him stuff to eat and sat him down for a talk.

One can actually do that with a bodyguard like Jonathan around. Did I mention yet that Jonathan is fabulous? Because he totally is!

Runner tried escaping once or twice, but never succeeded, so he decided to instead keep answering me. And he did a good job on clearing up some things for me.
Everyone who is, uh… “in” this probably will roll their eyes at me when I say this now, but Runner belongs to the group of people who call themselves runners. They do so because they are running from my Prince. Runner left his home and traveled through like half the continent because he tried to escape my Love.
Like Konaa and company, he accused me of being a lunatic for being in love with my Prince. But I also gathered that my Prince never did more than randomly appear around him and freak him out.

So yeah, I won’t budge. ;P

Runner stays here for now. He naturally became pretty nervous when my Prince joined the crowd for a few minutes, but of course He didn’t harm him in any way and even left the room when I politely asked Him to. Runner made me promise that I will ke͝e̵̴p̡̧̧ ̶̢͟hi̶̡m҉̷̨ s̡af̢̢̡e̵, but honestly – as if there ever were anything to wo̶̢͡r̴̀r͢ỳ͢ about.

For now, he’s wearing some old clothes of Daddy, but I guess I’ll drag him into a mall tomorrow to get some new stuff for him. And boy, that guy can eat it’s unbelievable! Almost as unsatiable as Konaa! XD Then again, he doesn’t seem to have had a warm home and good food for weeks… Ngh, now I feel a little bit bad about that joke…

I’m sorry for being so quiet, but you see, I’m still here and I’ll keep blogging, promise!

Ungh, headache now. Bye, internet!

An Apology

Hey, internet.

I might as well put the apology right in the beginning, before I start dumping all my emotional luggage on your shoulders again. I’m sorry for not having been posting for so long – but I had a good reason for it.

Basically, Officer explained to me that a stalker always wants to achieve one thing: Attention. It doesn’t actually matter if that attention is positive or negative, if it’s joy, fear or anger. If you react and acknowledge that your stalker has an effect on you, no matter which, they have won. He explained this to me back when I had to deal with Brute, and I tried to act accordingly, hoping that Brute hadn’t discovered the blog yet.

With the rose person, it’s another thing. Both Officer and I think they might be connected to Brute’s murderer, which means that they possibly know about the blog (since Brute knew about it). So I tried to lay low here and to not post for a while.

It sucks though. I missed this blog, I missed all of my few readers and it didn’t help anyway.

Officer is going nuts over this case, especially because of me. Story doesn’t seem to have any problems, but I’m still getting the roses every night. We can’t seem to find out who’s responsible for this though. Officer watched over my window several nights in a row, he even got some friends to help him once – but he didn’t catch anyone. It makes him nervous, and I can’t shake the feeling that there is something about those nights he doesn’t tell me. Something that makes it worse for him. I mean – I’ve known him for quite a while now, and I know how irritated he can get when something doesn’t work out as he would like it to. But this time he doesn’t just act annoyed, but more nervous… I can’t really explain it, nevermind.

Anyway I’m more or less isolated for my own protection. I’m not supposed to leave the house alone until Officer found a way to get at those guys from the club (and as you may have guessed, the police station isn’t helping much) and I’m advised to not contact Story, since I could put him in danger with that. The same goes for my friends – yeah, Berry texted me when she learned about my situation from Officer and apologized. She even said she would set things right with the others again. But that doesn’t help much since I have to stay away from them now in order to protect them.

Officer doesn’t tell me much about his suspicions, but from what I know I think that he suspects the rose person to be the murderer, and to have done it because they knew about Brute stalking me. So everyone in contact with me is automatically put in danger a bit. That means: No school, no guests – it’s practically like being grounded, just with a less disappointed Dad and some policemen in front of the house whenever they can.

So yeah, I’m pretty much isolated from everyone but Dad and Officer. Dad handles the situation great – Officer told him that I am in danger and therefore shouldn’t meet other people, so he tries to be home as much as possible. He always brings me movies and shows to watch – I’m through Tangled (missed it when it was in the cinema), the entirety of My Little Pony – Friendship is Magic, Enchanted, Poyo, Princess Tutu (okay, that wasn’t a DVD, I kinda stumbled upon it online) and quite some parts of How I met your Mother (for some reason I just can’t focus while watching that though, so I pause often).

Probably because I’ve seen My Little Pony right before that. And I wish there were more episodes, like, way more. It’s so cute and lovely that it makes me forget about my problems entirely while I watch it and I adore the characters – each and every one of them. Oh, and of course I just loved Tangled as well – Rapunzel resembles me so much it isn’t even funny (the part when she went yay-wah-yay-wah? That’s me all right!) and I really liked the villainess this time. See, most of the Disney villains had some sort of special stuff they could use against the protagonists – special abilities like magic, some minions, political power or just plain money. But this time, the villainess only had one weapon: Her mind. She couldn’t kill or defeat Rapunzel, so in order to use her magic power, she had to win the trust and love of the girl instead. I liked to watch how she really had to think hard about every step she made, instead of being able to simply throw around mighty spells or turn into a giant dragon to solve her problems. I don’t think that I ever saw something quite like that in a Disney movie, and I liked it.

Sadly, my Dad couldn’t get his hands on a copy of the Sharpay movie yet. He promised me to find it soon, though.

I still get the roses. The way they arrive is always the same: At midnight sharp, I wake up from a tapping noise at my window, and when I check, a new rose lays there. Black and strange like the others. They don’t wither and don’t break, no matter if it rains or if the sun shines, and although they piled up, none ever fell down from the sill. In order to not react to rose person, I didn’t touch them for two weeks, but… The tapping noise persisted. Everytime I turned away from the window I could hear it again until I looked directly at it. But I can’t stare at my window all day, so I lived with the tapping as long as possible. By night I usually got used to it a bit and could kinda sleep – until midnight when it got louder. By yesterday, the tapping was so loud that I couldn’t sleep anymore, so I pulled and all-nighter (as I tend to do every now and then recently) and in the morning I just opened my window and took all the roses inside.

Yes I know – that’s definitely a reaction. Which is why I’ve done it and why I’m posting here now. I’m giving up a little. Nothing changed when I ignored everything, absolutely nothing. But when I took the roses inside, the tapping stopped. I didn’t hear it again yet.

Holding all the roses at once made me feel really dizzy, but I still managed to put them into a vase. They are on my desk now and although they’re strange I kind of like them.

To be honest, I can’t help but think about Brute’s post.

Look instead at the one who looks back, who can be with you, care for you, love you the way you are meant to be loved.

I know it’s silly, but sometimes I wonder if… if it is Brute who brings me those roses to cheer me up after it didn’t work out with Story. Sometimes when I look out of my window at night, I could swear that I see someone move behind it.

Once… well, I almost think that I saw a suit there. Like on the notes Brute drew. And maybe it was a mistake, but I’ve read the blogs of Adele and Jane now (I better don’t link them, not sure if you would want to read them… they are pretty creepy) and… What if it’s true and Brute has something on his side we can’t understand?

Even if it’s not him. Wouldn’t every girl wish for someone who brings her a rose every day?

If it wasn’t for the suspicion that rose person has to do something with the murders, it would be a charming gesture. “Someone who looks back”.

I’m sorry… I’m tired and a bit confused by everything. I’ll better get to bed now.

G’night, internet.

Back Home

Hey, internet.

Just came back from the club.

Weirdest night ever.

And it doesn’t help that I just thought I saw something move in the shadows around my house. It was probably just a cat. But it was so quick and quiet that I really jumped. I guess being a big fan of Disney and avoiding horror movies on every opportunity doesn’t make me very paranoia-proof.

Okay. I’ll get myself a little glass of water and then type a neat little summary.

Better.  Okay, I’ll try to start after the makeover (because that’s what I did to Story when he arrived at my house).

Officer drove us close to the club. He stayed close, but out of sight – we had him on quick dial and were supposed to call him if anything happened. So inside the freaky stuff happened… There was a bunch of people there who had a child with them. Who brings a child to a gothic-ish club at night? I don’t know. But that child started staring at me. Children do that sometimes, I know, but it was creepy how it looked. I don’t want to describe it, I don’t even want to think about it for long, just… it’s one of the reasons for me being so jumpy for sure. So, all of this started to happen when Story and me actually started having kind of a good time. As in: He was extremly shy and everything, but I felt as if I got closer to him. Then he notices those people, but doesn’t tell me if he recognises anyone of them and – get this – suddenly just runs out of there, leaving me right in the middle of the dance floor.

I… yes, I may have used the opportunity of asking him if he knew the people to get a little bit closer to him. So, together with what happened afterwards, I’ll just take it as a no, Fi, I’m not into you.

So he barges out, I turn around because I didn’t want to go right after him in my frustration overload and this child stands behind me! Right behind me, like in a horror movie or so, staring at me like… I don’t even know! I mean, yes I turned away from it for a second, but not for long enough to walk over to me! And then it started babbling creepy, incoherent stuff about seeing me until its’ mother (???) came over and took it away. It wasn’t long, but it scared me shitless. So I left the club as quickly as I could, being all like “Okay, Fiona, maybe this child just had a mental disorder, the Mommy seemed normal and friendly enough.” when all of a sudden, a guy out of this group of people appears. I don’t even know if he had been there before, I just saw him inside with the others. And he directly approached me, giving me an envelope before I finally could flee to Officer’s car.

Yeah. He was like: “This is what a friend of yours gave me.”

You have may have three guesses who that friend of mine was. In the envelope was a photo of Brute that looked like he had been stalked himself, a blurry picture of a black man and some cryptic messages.

And then I called up Story, he came to the car (I don’t know where he had been, as soon as he came back he was preoccupied with the envelope) and Officer brought us home. And I’m freaked out because whoever those people are, they knew Brute, his murderer and me. Officer told me me to stay the hell out of this from now on and he promised he would have an eye on me. But I’m still scared.

So that’s where I am. Stalked, suspect of murder, known to the real murderers, rejected and paranoid like hell. I thought there was something tapping on my window constantly since I sat down to write this now and now I just want to curl up under my blanket and pretend nothing can get me there. And that’s exactly what I’ll do.

Except I just made the mistake to look at my window and might now not sleep, like, ever again. There was something lying there. A rose. A black rose on my windowsill.

Fuck this. I’ll sleep in Daddy’s bed.

Gotta get down on Friday

Hey, internet.

Sorry that I didn’t post recently but I really, I mean really wasn’t in the mood. Let me tell you why.

I had another nightmare on Friday. I couldn’t remember any of it though, just that I woke up with a racing heart and sweating. So I woke up at, like, 5 AM or so. First I took a shower to calm down, but afterwards I still felt wide awake, so I decided to be a good little girl and say thank you to my Dad for being so nice to me on Monday. I made breakfast and got all ready for a change so we could have breakfast together.

The problem about that is that usually we only eat breakfast together when I go to school. Even then rather rarely, but whenever Dad can afford to. So, right when he came into the room and saw me sitting on the table, pouring him some fresh coffee – I could see he got the gesture all wrong.

“So you’re going to school again?”, he asked, his eyes lighting up. And when I saw him standing there, all hopeful and happy, I just couldn’t say no anymore. I just nodded instead, and since he had to leave early enough for me to have some time left, I packed my backpack then and went to school.

It all went downhill from there. I was too late a little bit and the teacher is a strict one, so she gave me a warning (“One more time and it’s detention, Phoebe, you can’t just go and decide for yourself when to attend school!” GRRRRRRRR!!!) and no one had brought over homework or told me what the others did at school so I was pretty clueless. And of course Ms Hatesme ignored all the raised hands in the room constantly to ask me every question first before she picked up on someone else! I mean, yeah – my friends have been sending me emails. But do you remember how I mentioned that they just don’t deem school very important? So, those emails are mostly “Why haven’t you been to Barbie’s party?” and such stuff. I didn’t even open the latest ones anymore.

So yeah, that gives me a perfect transition to my friends. After the horror that was geography, I just wanted to spend a nice lunch break with them. Well… I should have seen coming that I wouldn’t be able to.

I should have done a lot of things for that matter. Like replying to the emails and thinking of a good excuse for staying at home for a week. Because the girls were pissed at me. And by pissed, I mean they more or less kicked me out of the cafeteria single-handedly just by using words. I have never been humiliated so much before – and I can’t even say that I didn’t deserve it.

That I didn’t come to the parties… well, that’s one thing. I guess they would be okay with it if I just had given them a reason for me being absent for so long. They really were angry – at least they said that – because they worried about me but I didn’t tell them anything. Berry seems to have told them some bits and pieces. They knew about me having problems with someone and that someone not being well now. They didn’t seem to know about that someone being dead and the problems being stalking. They also didn’t know who it was I had problems with. But that doesn’t matter very much anymore anyway because they kicked me out of the clique – just like that.

I asked Berry later if she would help me to clarify things. But she just threw a glance made of pure disgust at me and said that she knew “about the note” and that I shouldn’t “act all innocent”. Also, that she’d do shit to pull me out of my own mess. And then she left me there, without any clue.

So yeah. I’ve lost everything. I’m not popular anymore, I don’t have a big circle of friends anymore. I can strike all the party-dates in my organizer, because none of the girls will let me in anywhere anyway. It’s simply over. I’ll have to sit this last year out. There’s no, heh, Fionamancy able to change that, no matter how hard I’d try – I just know.

I still haven’t gotten used to that thought.

I’m going to miss them all. Really – I mean it.

When I realized that there was nothing I could do anymore, I cried. A lot. I just hid away in the second lunch break and cried. I thought my eyes were dry after those past few days, but obviously they aren’t.

I really don’t want to go to school tomorrow. Or ever again for that matter.

There is someone I have to be there for though. Apart from my Dad, that is. Story is having a really rough time. Apparently, the police dropped the case already. It’s absolutely silly but they did. He called me up today and told me about it, being very angry and sad – Officer had just told his family. And no, Officer doesn’t know why, either. Obviously an order from above he can’t do anything about either, though.

Which reminds me of something I had brought up earlier: The note Berry mentioned. Story and me had a long talk about Brute’s death and Story told me that they found a note stapled to the bag in which his heart was. On the note was written “no means no!” in capital letters. With crossed out O’s. I don’t even know anymore.

We guessed around a bit, but that note is probably the reason for me being so suspicious to the police. Officer had told Story about it (it sounded like they had rather close contact this week anyway) but no one mentioned it towards me so talking about it would have confirmed my guilt for them. Since the case is dropped now anyway, I guess Story felt it was okay to talk to me about it.

Apart from that he said that Officer believes in my innocence. And he trusts Officer.

That kind of got me going again, although it’s still not quite good news. I wish I could just… actually do something. Anything. Cast a spell which would revive Brute or so to solve all our problems. Well, okay, not the friend problem, but being quite honest, for me it might be a major and horrible thing. But it’s actually nothing. I still have Dad – Story lost his brother and friend. Yeah, obviously they were more or less each other’s only real close friends apart from their books, shows and movies. It might sound arrogant when I say: Go me, I really fucked up big time there. But the thing is that I just know what I am. And that note and Brute’s blogpost… What else am I supposed to think than that I am at least connected to his death somehow?

If not even responsible for it.

Well… Story will start going to school again tomorrow. And he asked if I’ll be there, in that tone that sounded as if he was begging for help. So I will be there, of course.

It’s all I can do, really. I wish it would be more. I’m so sorry, Story.

So… time to stop avoiding my bed and to go to sleep. Goodnight internet.

Some Clarification

Hey, internet.

I’m sorry for not updating yesterday as I said I would, but it simply wasn’t such a good day for me. Nothing happened in particular that made me feel bad, I just… have some times when everything that happened the past few weeks kicks in again, especially thursday. So I didn’t do anything yesterday.

Dad is really sweet to me. I pity him for having to tell all my friends  that I can’t talk at the moment when they call on the phone, although I’m sitting and watching movies more or less right next to him while he does that. When he’s home at all, I should say. He needs to spend a lot of time working, so most of the day I can just let the phone ring until it stops.

Yesterday he came home earlier though. He’s the owner of a little store for artistic needs, so he always stays there after closing to do some paperwork, restocking and whatnot. It already makes me feel grateful that he seemingly skipped all that yesterday and went straight home.

He didn’t do much. There’s not much one can do. But he ordered some pizza, knowing exactly which one I’d like the most and without a comment sat down next to me on my bed while I watched “Alice in Wonderland”. Yes, he didn’t do anything. But he was there, and somehow, that alone was enough for me. I could snuggle up to him a little and sometimes I would cry a bit and he would pet my head, and sometimes I would just lie there and feel not-alone. In the end, I even fell asleep snuggled up to him, having weird Alice in Wonderland dreams (naturally… I’m going to tell you about it, although I don’t know if I will do it today or tomorrow). And when I woke up, he had tucked me in and put a little plushie on my nightstand, with a note saying: “Leftovers are in the fridge. Love you, Princess” and a cute smiley beneath.

I love you too, Dad. Very much so.

Well, uhm, that said I read over my last blogpost again today and realised that I totally forgot about quite some details, which made it sound… strange. I’m going to try and clarify things a bit, just in case you wondered (because I did if I’d care, and people seem to care about my blog).

1.) How do I know that the police have my cell phone? Easy, they told me in the interrogation room. Of course they weren’t like “Oh, Miss, by the way – we found your cell, you might want to have it back?” but rather… pointed out that it’s a strange coincidence they found the person who stalked me for a while murdered and then found him being in possession of my cell phone.

2.) How did they know it was mine? Because I actually have a little glittering sticker on it, saying “Fiona’s Fabulous FPhone!” There wasn’t much thinking to do I guess.

3.) If Brute found the blog via the cell phone and the police have it, why would I think that they don’t know about the blog? I never said that. I’m not going to tell them about the blog myself, that’s all. My views are quite high recently, so maybe there are some of the officers reading through it already. But they didn’t mention it to me yet, so I won’t mention it too and not give up hope it’s still a place for me and me alone. Well, and you, internet.

4.) Do I actually have anything to do with Brute’s death? No, and since that was so natural for me, I must have totally forgotten that no one can see into my memories and see that while writing. Reading my last few entries, I’d suspect myself of really being involved with the murder, just because I didn’t comment on that, like, at all. Since it’s possible that a policeman will soon slap me with a printout of my blog and ask me how I did it, I should maybe do it now, though. No. I didn’t kill him. At least not actively or voluntarily. I was at home the night they found him, I did my homework and went to sleep at a reasonable time to go to school the next day. I blame myself for making him feel the way he did towards me, and maybe not reciprocrating his feelings, and not talking to him when I had the chance to do it. I blame myself for not having stopped him from going outside that night, for not checking on the blog that evening, for not… stopping him from going out and being murdered. But I did not harm him and I didn’t encourage anyone to do it.

Something else about Brute: I don’t know if people can see who’s part of the blogs “team” or not, but he somehow added himself there to write the blogpost. And I’ll keep the account in there. I wouldn’t know much about how else I could make a memento for him, and I want to remember him and what I indirectly did to him. I liked him and looking at the blogpost I see what I liked about him shine through, as well as in his username. Both of which I should keep in mind. So I will keep that little bit of him close to me, and this blog – especially the admin center – is more or less as close as it gets. I think he would like that.

I’ll better stop writing here for now.

Bye, internet.

My Awakening

Hey, internet.

I’m sorry for the last two posts and… their content. It was a lot for me to take in and I needed some time for that.
It would probably have been even more time if it wasn’t for today. Let me explain from the beginning.

On thursday, just when I wanted to leave for school, the police came to my house. They told me that I had been excused from school for that day and then they brought me to the department. I think we talked on the way, but I was too scared and confused to remember what we said. I just know that Dad was sitting next to me, holding my hand all the time. They didn’t let him come to the interrogation room with me, though.

They asked me… no, they interrogated me about things like when I had last seen Brute and Story etcetera. And then they told me that Brute was dead. Someone found his body in the early morning. I felt as if… my brain just shut down then. When they brought me home, all I could think was that it was my fault, that I had someone taken his life away from him. Even if I didn’t, I still was the one responsible for him and his family not getting along well during his last days. Story and him had had a friendship all along, until this little blonde minx came along and parted them… And now they can never reconcile.

I still… think that… I dunno. That I am responsible. Partially, at least. But at least someof that burden was taken away from me today.

It started with me falling asleep. I know that I said I slept before as well, but… it was just kinda-sleeping. Not resting. But then, in the middle of the night, I finally really fell asleep and at first, it started out like all the dreams before – I dreamt that I was wide awake, still watching my movie. In hindsight I know it was a dream because the movie took a silly turn (it became a crossover of several Disney movies), but in my dream, I didn’t notice. I just continued watching, still feeling kind of numb, when a shadow fell on my bed. Thinking that it was Dad, I looked up – only to see my Prince stand there. He just stood there, saying nothing, slightly tilting his head while he observed me. For a short moment everything was even more muffled than usually, I barely could hear the Disney characters in the movie mull over how they wanted to rescue a princess. And then He reached out for me, handing me a single, black rose. When I touched it, a thorn pricked my finger and the pain was so intense that… my whole body hurt for a moment. And then every single feeling came back to me. All the anger and the sadness. I woke up crying, and I cried my heart out, and then I fell asleep again when I was fully exhausted and dreamt normal dreams. A bit dark and morbid I guess, but normal. Not this mindfuckery of the past few days.

In the morning, the police came back. They brought me to the department again and they were far less nice to me than on Thursday. Some questions were the same as on Thursday, but then they started asking things that made me wonder. If I had a boyfriend. If I knew someone who liked me very much. How much my friends knew about the stalking.
Where I was when he died.

I had thought that Brute had committed suicide, but I was wrong. He was murdered. From what I learned at the station (after the interrogation of course), someone had… ripped, literally ripped his heart out. And then put it back into the chest. In a plastic bag.

It’s so despicable that I feel sick thinking about it. But still… am I a bad person for a part of me feeling relieved just a bit? About that it was someone else who killed him, not the grief over me not liking him? Because I am. It’s as if there had been pressure in my head, and now a valve was opened and a big part of it just… came out. It’s still gruesome. I still feel bad, sad and angry. But it’s not overwhelming me anymore. I can actually feel it.
And I can actually think again.

I met Story at the station too. But he didn’t look like he was eager to talk to me – more of the opposite. I’ve never seen him glare at someone before but I think I did so at me when I came in. Maybe he suspects me to be responsible for Brute’s death, too. I can’t blame him, because I might indirectly be. Maybe Brute would have been at home if it wasn’t for whatever he wanted to do for me. For whoever he wanted to meet out there.

Which reminds me. Yes, I’ve read his blog entry. Macabre enough, I only discovered it after I came back from the Police on Thursday, and it made everything worse. I printed the entry out for the policemen today and brought it with me to the station because I thought they might need it, but I just told them he wrote the message to me, not where on the internet he did it. I do my best to tell them everything they need to know – thanks to Officer I do know that policemen have to work very hard and that every little clue can be just the one they still need to find the criminal. But they won’t find anything on my blog that I wouldn’t tell, give or show them anyway (they’ve got the notes now, too) and this still is my little, cozy place to myself I’m very protective of.

I’m digressing again, sorry. I’m better but my mind is still a little bit all over the place and it tends to avoid touching Brute’s blogpost as much as possible.

So. The blogpost.

It’s strange to read something that someone seems to say to you right out of his grave. Even more so when those words are so warm and nice, while all you heard of that person for the past few days was that they became more aggressive and distant. When I first read them, they pushed me head on into a fit of selfblaming and regret. Since the police found my cellphone, I suppose I was right about him taking it away. He must have found the bookmark of the blog because I had checked on it all day and then he probably lurked. Until he couldn’t stand my fawning about Story anymore and let some shady stranger…

I’m sorry. I still can’t forgive myself for… I don’t know. I think I need a little break, maybe I’ll write more tomorrow.

Talk-to-a-Story-Day

Hey, internet…

I finally had the opportunity to ask Story about Brute today. I didn’t even directly bring up Brute, but Story seemed down and it turned out that it was because of him. And maybe because of me. I don’t even know anymore.

I don’t even know how to put this. Brute obviously… changed. According to Story, I had the right impression about him first, when I thought that he was simply a shy but nice guy. But recently he’s become more aggressive. He locks himself up in his room, only talking to people on the telephone. Story can hear him yelling and coughing a lot, he even found some blood in the sink after Brute had been in the bathroom, but whenever he offers help, Brute just tells him to “piss off.” The few times they actually have seen each other recently, he had dark circles under his eyes and looked really pale. And Story told me that he’s even vanished several times now, mostly at night, without any trace where he went or why, coming back early in the morning tired, shaken by violent coughing fits and even more aggressive than anytime else.

It frightens Story and his family. And frankly, it’s frightening me as well. A person changed so much and I just can’t shake the feeling that it’s my fault. I showed up and suddenly the brothers don’t get along with each other anymore and everything… goes to hell. Is that what I did? Changing a person so much for the worse just by being nice to them? I always had kind of a knack for handling people but never thought that I could harm anyone so much with that. I never wanted to harm anyone.

I’m so sorry, Brute and Story. So incredibly sorry. I didn’t want this to happen.

I somehow managed to slip in a question about the game. Story didn’t know much about it, but he said that Brute is into an urban mythos about a being called Slender Man (not quite a slender man, it’s more of a title or something). He told me it was an “if you know too much about it, he comes for you” thing and that he had been too afraid of such stuff to research it or let Brute show him anything about it. But obviously, there are some game-like stories about it. No, I didn’t look into it. Even if it’s that game or myth he’s into, he’s got bigger problems now. And I should rather find a way to help him.

Maybe I could try and put my abilities on use for something positive for a change. I’ll just… see what I can do for him.

I’m sorry for maybe not sounding very coherent about everything.

Bye, internet.

Le update

Hey internet!

Sorry for me not posting earlier, but I kind of didn’t want everything I wrote to be shoved into the “April’s Fools” corner. So I waited until today.

There’s not much to tell, either, but at least the few things are good news. I found out a bit more about Brute’s condition, although I don’t quite know what to make of it. Someone commented on my blog and seemed to know the things on his notes. I checked on her blog in turn and it sounds very much as if the monster he drew was the “Black King” out of a strategy game or MMORPG or I’mjustthrowingrandomwordsforgamesIdon’tknowbecauseIneverplayedthemoutthere.  I’m not sure what kind of game it is yet, though, because Thage (the commenter) didn’t answer my questions about that yet. But either way, it creeps me out a little bit less now in hindsight. I’ll just ask Story about it.

Who I didn’t have much opportunity to talk to this week because so many of the cool kids at school decided to be born in March/April and I have to attend birthday surprise party preparation meetings like every fifth minute. :(

My cell phone is still missing, but no new notes so far. Which is nice and the main reason for me being so upbeat today. Maybe Brute just had… I dunno, a rough patch and calmed down. Would be nice. Maybe he just wanted to pull a prank on me. Would be nice, too. I don’t want to get my hopes up too much too quickly.

The grades on the project with Story were good as well, I could answer some extra questions without any problem (thank you Story! You’re so fabulous<3) and thus might get a slightly better mark in German overall. Also: Breakfast lesson soon! Yay!

Even my dreams have gotten better. No nightmares so far. Just a really cute dream in which I was a Disney princess and spending a sparkly, pink, unicorn-rainbow-fartingly happy day with my princess friends. Hooray, sleep!

Okay, I need to go offline now though. Surprise birthday party at Barbie’s tomorrow. *sigh*

bye, internet!

[Insert witty Title here]

So I managed to visit Officer today, together with Berry. Made for a nice little evening at the cinema (I wish that I wasn’t preoccupied with other thoughts, because “Sucker Punch” deserved to be appreciated at least a bit more than I can right now) and a conversation I really needed.

I feel a bit bad about what I wrote earlier, though. Since Brute had made such a sane and almost charming impression on me when I first met him, I automatically assumed that everything he did since then had been made on purpose because he was reproachful against me or something. That was very egotistical of me. Officer cleared things up there a bit – regarding Brutes behavior and the content of his notes (I showed a few to Officer), it’s quite obvious that something is wrong with him, in a mental disease kind of way. He might be sick and I just didn’t notice, but blamed him for everything instead. That sucks, and in hindsight, I’m really ashamed of how I thought about him earlier.

But even though, Officer warned me of underestimating Brutes potential for aggression against me. He would rather like me to go to the police and talk about all of this, but since I don’t want to, he could only advise me to ignore all approaches of Brute and tell him as soon as the notes turn into way more.

I didn’t tell him about the cell phone yet, maybe I won’t at all. The notes alone were enough for him to ask several times if I was sure about leaving my Dad and my friends alone with it. But I would rather try and talk about it to Brute once again or maybe to Story if I don’t dare. So I just said I’d rather try something else first without specifying what that something else was.

At least I now know that there’s someone I can go to if things turn out for the worse. The cell phone didn’t show up yet, but so did notes by Brute, so I’m at least somewhat in a good mood today.

In other good news, I didn’t have nightmares since the one with the rose garden. Just thought I should mention that, as I failed to deliver more dream narrations since then. So maybe everything might turn out for the better now.

Wish me luck, internet. :) Bye.