Sunday, September 18, 2011

A long time

Been awhile.

Sorry about that. Sorry about missing so much, seems like alot has gone on while I left. Still trying to catch up on it all, and I thought I should post while I have the time, strength and ability too.

Where do I start? Normally talking to someone face to face you ask 'em what do you want to HEAR first...
So I'll start where I can, with the note left with my friend. WELL. That was an experience in itself. The town that he lives in, is a 2 hour ride down a LONG and BROKEN road. And mountain roads. OH THE FUCKING MOUNTAIN ROADS. His town is built up on the side of a mountains with big steep hills and fuck is it hard to drive through, or GET UP. I now see why no one drives cars around there, they never know if they can get the car to the top of the hill.

Enough about roads and my hate for them right now.

I get to his house, he isn't HOME.


I wait, and wait, and wait, and fall asleep in my car, and wake up to my radio blasting corny terrible country, and my friend standing in front of the van. I turn off the music and get out asking him what was up, conversation starter, I don't really know. He was just standing there like a fucking zombie in front of my car, I was just trying to get a response I guess. But nothing, he just stood there. When I actually tapped his arm did he snap too and realised I was standing next to him. So I guess he was sleep walking. Creepy stare though...

So I asked him about the note, how he got my number as we hadn't been talking before this. (We stopped talking when I moved, as I did with most people) He then passed it over and the envelope it came in. As I thought, covered in that great black marker and O's with X's smeared over it like a God damn slap in the fucking face. A nice personal message was scribbled in. I know the writing... Who writes it. I mean, I dont really KNOW who it is, I just know of.. who.. it...

How do I explain these stupid complicated things.. fuck

"cOme and try my little mOuse and see hOw well yOu dX"

All the O's had X's but the lest O is an X. I really don't know what it means. If it's some kind of code, then it's got me thrown for a loop.

The envelope had my number and "itsforher' scribbled on it.
Lovely. So I had a smoke and a beer, then drove off into the night, back home. Which took longer since I would not drive faster than the speed limit over those roads. Last thing I needed was to hit a bear going 100 and then fly off a mountain. I got back to town and then parked in the hospital parking lot because they had a vending machine outside and because I can get baked like an apple pie and not care. That hospital was once the safest place on earth to me, the only place I ever felt fully at ease.

I don't even have that any more, but I'll get to that in a minute. I didn't sleep much, I don't think I even could have if I tried. The second I was back in town I had this feeling of unease, and a headache. I spent my time talking to people around town. If anything was weird, changed, if mom was doing anything out of the ordinary, and the only thing that was weird was she stopped going out. Mom was a very social person, who knew everyone in town and even three towns over. She goes out to drink every night. But that stopped abruptly and she didn't tell anyone why. I tried talking to the police but that failed and they just pushed me aside as they had "things to do."

It seems that the police force has been like to to everybody. Apparently a cop had committed suicide in the station and ever since then the cops have been drilling up everybody's ass about the stupid things. I was mostly in and out of a really weird state of mind for a few days, and things that I didn't make a point of remembering got blurred out. I went back to the place I saw HIM, but nothing was out there. I even went to mom's house. Everything had been cleaned and cleared out, I knew the landlord pretty well so he let me walk over the place...

It was hard.

But I didn't see anything, but there was something the cleaners missed I guess. I'm glad they did. It was one of dad's rings he gave to mom...

Continued to wrack my brain over that note more, and managed to fall asleep, but guess what? Woke up, to corny country music and my phone going off the hook. I need to change that station.. My friend was on the other end, I could barely make out what he was saying from him muffling it and breathing heavily, but I heard a dog freaking the fuck out so my first guess was something was going down. I turn on the van and speed down the road and out of town. In the middle of the night.

I don't know how, but I survived that, and then the van broke down before it even got to the hill, so I jump out and book it. I've never run so fast before, and I'd never been so scared for someone I hardly remember either. But once it came into view I could feel the fear slip away and turn into a gut wrenching pain. My guess is the dog on the phone, was now laying on the sidewalk, and most of it's head was gone, like, smashed in. It was gross, very gross. I looked up and the kitchen light was on, where...

He shot himself. In the head.


I started to run to the house but then I saw HIM in the corner of my eye so I turned to look at him, and looked as stepped away from the house and the rage just built up inside me. But the instant I went to explode my anger on the fuck was the instant all feelings just..poof


felt good, for that one instant. that one. instant.

But I pushed back, and then ran the other way, back to the van and started pushing trying to get it to start, once it came back to life I drove out of town. And my, HATE of mountain roads got worse, because out of no where, HE came out and I was sure I was dead. I went off the road.

And I woke up.

A half hour out of town, parked, perfectly fine except for the things I could remember. I slowly drove myself back to town, got a pack of smokes, then got a call from the police station, saying they found something. I lug myself over there and.. guess what.

Pickles. In lock up under suspicion of murder. For WHO?
MY OWN MOTHER, and possibly my brother. Why? Someone found him down my the old docks near the graveyard, wearing my brothers shirt covered in my mothers blood. Mind you only I knew that shirt was my brothers. I bought it for him for christmas. But still. I just...
It was sickening just to hear those words come out of someone's mouth. To say he was the one who killed my mother. There are lots of reasons. But I knew what bull shit that was, and I spent most of my time the next few day's going over and pestering them about it, trying to convince someone that he wasn't who they thought he was. Then another old friend finally came to talk to me. Scotty. Now, Scotty was close to my mother, and he knew Pickles too, because of mom. Scotty found it just as weird, and assured me he was going to try his best.

It was funny because I wondered why I never saw him until then, then later found out he was on leave for his mother being in the hospital. So then Friday rolls around, and I go in to pester them more, I find Scotty right away and the look on his face sort of threw me for a loop. He looked disturbed. Very disturbed. I asked him what was wrong and he said that Pickles was in the hospital, when I asked why he brought me outside and told me what happened. It was like, 2:30 in the morning or so, when he started screaming bloody murder from the cell, when Scotty went to see what was wrong, he found Pickles hung up by a sheet. No clue where it came from, because there wasn't one in there at the time. They pulled him down and found a strange burn around his neck, and rushed him off to the hospital.

He said he never seen something like that, and now thinks the station is haunted.

That actually made my day...

I went to the hospital, and tried to see him with no prevail, and saturday Scotty called to tell me that they couldn't find any conclusive evidence, and most of them are just passing him off as crazy. Really, there are alot more reasons, but I don't want to get into it, as it hurts to think this much, and I'm sure most of you have stopped reading this INSANELY long post.

They dropped the charges. And before you ask, Yes I was going to tell the cops what happened to my friend, but it had been reported before I had the chance, and the police from another area had left to take care of it. I want to send my regards but...


anyway, sunday morning Pickles was released from the hospital, and I when I went to pick him up.. I don't know what happened. I blame it on the constant sleep deprivation, and everything that was going on, but the second I walked through the doors I felt sick. I was light headed and gasping for air. At one point the nurse that was showing me to his room asked me if I was okay, I said yes. But everything was muffled, and I felt like fainting. I grabbed the skinny fuck and dragged him out of the place, into the van and drove the fuck out of town, and the feeling didn't stop untill I was out of town.

I can't even think about the town know without having chills...

So. We are now parked in a McDonalds parking lot, stealing Wifi and He is sleeping.

I don't know what to do now, trying to figure out how to get money for gas right now, as I have none of that. fuck..

just fuck


  1. Sorry I didn't get to read everything (I promise I will when I get the time)I just wanted you to know how happy I am to see some signs of life from you. After ahwile some people just get paranoid and start to fear the worse you know?

  2. Well, at the very least I'm glad you're okay, but I'm sorry about your friend, and Pickles and even Scotty, because you know... this is probably going to stick to him too. It's like Pine tar; it sticks to everything.

  3. Hey, this is Pickles. Hart would be here but she's all kinds of crazy right now so I am.

    Nox, I'm happy to hear you where worried, and from the sounds of it she's worried about all you too. She's happy to see you okay.

    Mystery, thanks for that, and I kinda noticed first hand how sticky shit gets. And she's been seeing that too. But right now the only thing on MY mind is how to stay alive in all of this.