NOVEMBER 25, 2012

Log from November 25^th:

I'm deeply sorry for not giving regular progress reports. I've been so busy Running that it's difficult to snatch a moment to myself, and it's been difficult enough diverting suspicion within the group.

Before I get much further ahead of myself, I'll give a progress report on what I've been doing, all month...

Since I took off in October, I've been infrequently stumbling on bouquets, seeing grey and hearing these occasional piercing shrieks that leave me deaf for days afterwards, sensing things in the shadows watching, waking up with a pressure on my chest just in time to watch something dart away...and I'm always cold - colder than I ought to be, even in winter. That last one, though...despite that my hands are always numb, I don't feel like it's a danger. Sometimes, I see black-eyed children peering at me from around corners, only for them to dart away giggling. Also - the nightmares are horrific.Terrifyingly nauseating images, things I can't even describe. There are nights where I don't sleep at all, now.

Sometimes I would cut my arms open and bleed on the ground, hoping my Mistress will be drawn to me. She never appears. Worse, it seemed my tribute goes to another Vessel - they seem to be everywhere, lately, and avoiding Ruby Tuesday was probably the most difficult thing I've ever had to do.

Then, recently, I found myself in the company of two others - also Runners. Neither of them were particularly talkative, and highly untrustworthy, but something about my frantic state must have earned their sympathy. We all met in this hostel, one that offers discounted board for people on the run from Fears. I, personally, found it welcoming; I could sense a presence like my Mistress's, there, and I can only guess that was why I wasn't turned away in suspicion. Before we left, two more joined us, and we were back on the road heading South. I think they plan on jumping the border into Mexico...there's something funny about that.

We all pointedly refuse to get to know each other, but I feel almost bonded to them. There's a kind of...trust, without trusting. We all know we can depend on one another to watch, and to fight.

I think I've hidden what I am well enough. At the very least, no one has accused me of being a proxy. I suspect they think I'm being hounded by the Black Dog, and truthfully, I wonder that myself. I've glimpsed my Mistress's dog every so often, tailing me, dragging that bag of flesh.

I can't imagine what they'll do to me if they find out I'm not only Marked, but a Vessel, too.

NOVEMBER 19, 2012

Log from November 19^th:

THE NIGHTLANDERS BEDTIME STORY

Sometimes they are shadow;

Sometimes, just a voice.

Always, they’re meticulous

And they leave you no choice.

You don’t fit to their order

Don’t dare to disobey.

The torture can always get worse

So it’s best that you play.

NOVEMBER 9, 2012

Log from November 9^th

THE QUIET BEDTIME STORY

I have been touched, but it does not care.

It is all around us, but also nowhere.

The silence unmakes us, there’s nowhere to go.

The Quiet claims all; the wise of us know.

OCTOBER 31, 2012

Log from October 31^st:

I know you read this, and I don't care if you know.

I've become a Runner again. I'm Running from the Fears stalking from the shadows, and from you.

After receiving a bouquet on my doorstep - gardenias, azaleas, peonies, jonquil, red hyacinth and carnations (of course, red), amaryllis, sprigs of coriander, narcissus, and a single bachelor button - it was clearly time to go. I'm so close to being killed, or worse.

Unless she comes back to me...I'll be Running my entire life. I'm slowly coming to terms.

I'm the magnet, now. The Fear magnet. The rape magnet. The next Vessel.

If the Red Cap is inside me, the Mistress and I... I don't even know what that means, for her and I.

OCTOBER 29, 2012

Log from October 29^th:

THE EYE BEDTIME STORY

It’s staring

It’s judging

This obsessive spy

It’s glaring

Begrudging

Condemned me to die.

bedtime stories are better when red read to me

OCTOBER 23, 2012

Log from October 23^rd:

I found this. I was packing things up again, and I found it written on the same paper as before. My notepad itself is gone. She must have taken it with her.

October 20:

I've decided not to fight it anymore. It's always inside me...watching me, waiting for me to be weak, and I just... I just can't. I can't bear it. I'm not strong enough to be 'in control'. It's so far beyond my control that I can't even remember my own name. I know it's not 'Red'.

I've been 'Red' forever. At least, that's how it feels.

So...I'll be Red.

...Somehow I just know this will come back to bite me in the ass.

OCTOBER 22, 2012

Log from October 22^nd:

She left me. This morning.

I think I may be in shock. I haven't stopped crying, yet.

Please. I'm begging you.

Come back to me.