Getting Gray

Well look at that.  I almost missed it, but luckily we have little date and time counters in the bottom corner of our computers.  If we didn't I think that maybe I'd forget what year it was entirely.  But time is always moving, even if maybe we aren't.  Or if we maybe don't want it to.

Today's April 13th.  It's my birthday.  I'm sixteen.

I opened up this post and I started writing it cause I figure this is significant but now I don't know what to say.  What does it matter?  I'm just the same person I was yesterday, gaining an extra year hasn't made me any better.

Well, I'm glad that I'm putting this up anyway.  Who knows what's going to happen in the future.  This may be something to help me remember myself.  I don't know.  Birthdays seem important, so I'm glad I didn't forget it.

To another year, and many happy returns.

-Gray

Grasping the Kor Concept

As much as I hate to agree with that asshat Fracture, there is one thing he has been right about.

Cordelia is not to be fucking trusted.  Luckily for Gray, I'm keeping an eye out for the both of us.  If it were up to me we wouldn't be living within three states of her, but he needs this right now so I'll deal.  If anything looks even remotely dangerous I'm getting us as far away from this disaster waiting to happen of a group as I can.

I went to visit our lovely red prison guard the other day for the first time.  Gray had been keeping us apart because apparently he was concerned that I'd make a bad impression.  As if I made a bad impression on the other members of the group.  Besides, I kind of went there hoping to leave a bad impression.  Let the bitch know it isn't just the pushover kid she has to get through.

She was completely unrepentant about the way she's using my Gray.  It's disgusting and I will stop her if it goes any farther.  He is not her tool, neither of us are.  She needs to realize that it is a favor that I even allow her to talk to him.  And the lies that pour from her mouth about pacifism and not wanting to hurt people.  Does she realize how fake she sounds?  Seriously, I don't think anyone other than Gray could ever believe her.

I mean, Gray's trusting and naive nature is adorable and I love that about him, but that's why he needs to listen to me when I, as the common sense between us, tell him NOT TO TRUST HER.  But he's busy being a hopeless idiot.  Sigh.  Sometimes loving him is hard.

Ugh, and she reminded me about that bitch Jessica, who I also need to remember to murder.  I owe her a chopped off arm at least but with any luck I'll get to really fuck her up.  She deserves it.  Gray still has nightmares about what she did to him, and I don't blame him.  

BUT THE MAIN THING I'M PISSED OFF ABOUT IS THIS CRAFTING THING.

If you knew Gray like I did you would know that filling his head with delusions of grandeur is a really bad idea.  He breaks down.  It's what he does.  It's all I can do to keep him pulled together, like herding freaking emotional cats.  And now he's got some weird freaky power where he can change the world with his mind?  That's not stable, that's not helping.  I know how to help him and taking away the solidity of reality is not helping his ability to keep a grasp on it.

If The Red Bitch keeps pushing him to fuck with the universe and he keeps doing it and hurting himself inside I'm going to stop it.  I'm going to shut it the fuck down.  His destiny or not his fucking destiny, if it is hurting him IT WILL STOP.

So yeah, if you're reading this Cordelia, and I hope you are, watch yourself.  And watch yourself around Gray most of all.  He's mine and I will protect him.

-The Kor  

Crafter Gray

I'm scared.  What have I become?  What do I have the capacity of turning into?

It was me, I know for sure now.  I was the one who made that prison out of my house.  I was the one who made blood run down the walls and come out the sink.  I was the one who tore months of my life away in what felt like a single day.

The entire time I was there, all it took was a thought and I would have been free.  All I needed was to picture it and the blood would be gone and the smell would be flowers and my mom's body wouldn't be there.  All I had to do was will it and the front door would open up into my front lawn like it always had and I could have just walked away.

So why didn't it?  Didn't I want it enough?  I thought I did.  I hated every second I was trapped in there.  I wanted to leave with every fiber of myself.  I was sure I did.  More than I wanted the ceiling to come lower and the walls to move in to their rightful position in that messed up room.  Why was it so simple this time when I couldn't even make dead bodies stop continuing to bleed in my last loop?

Why have I still not taken the picture of my mom out of my backpack?

What good is being magic if it came too late to save anyone.  What good is being able to fix things that are broken if it means you are the only one who knows they're broken because you're the only one who hears the screaming?

After learning about my abilities, all I wanted to do was use them.  But now I'm not so sure if that was right.  He is the one breaking reality, He is the one that makes the screaming.  I don't want to do that.  I don't want to turn into someone who disfigures what God has created.

I'm not sure what I am.  I used to take comfort in the fact that no matter what I did, I was still human.  Now I'm not sure if I can even say that anymore.

I need to go to sleep.  I didn't sleep all last night, I need to go to sleep.

Double Up Gray

I never wanted to be a writer when I was a kid.  I mean, I guess most people would still consider me a kid, but I don't feel like I have the capacity to think about what I want to be when I grow up.  Most of my former classmates are probably just preparing themselves to work towards their dream jobs, or at least starting to work towards their dream colleges but I'm never going to college.  It was unrealistic, money-wise back then and it's impossible now.

I wanted to be a fireman when I was really little, back when everything was still normal, which is disgustingly ironic.

But it's not worth trying to have dreams now.  I just have to live from breath to breath, and try to glean some joy from the anti-joke that is my life.  Like, what did the mentally broken boy hunted by a monster get for Christmas?  Being locked in a room with his mother's corpse.

Ha ha.  So funny.  I'm not very good at jokes.

But I'm horribly off topic.  I was trying to say that I never wanted to be a writer, but it's all I seem to do these days.  Case in point, I am now on another blog.  Miss Cordelia's blog, actually, but she wants all of us living with her to contribute.  I don't know how much I'm going to be able to "contribute" but I'll do it if she asks me to.

I'm still going to be posting on here, too.  Just, probably not so much the what happened as all those mushy gushy feelings that are the reason I have this blog which is kinda a diary as much as an obituary.  I know, ew, right?

Feel free to not read it cause hey, I hate my whiny feelings, so I bet you all are sick to death of them.  But there's more than just me on this new blog so it's probably better reading material.  God knows we may as well try to read something enjoyable while suffering.

Catch you later.

Floating Gray

I'm not sure what my life is anymore.  I can barely recognize it.  It's like I'm floating outside my body, but I'm not really there.  Just....floating.

It's not a bad thing.  Oh my dear God it is not a bad thing at all.  In fact, everything is just perfect.  My bed is so soft that it makes me want to cry.  I can watch TV while lying down and drink soda and nobody tells me not to.  I have windows that look out over a city with so much color it's hard to make out any individual neon signs.  I have warmth and food and safety, I haven't even felt like I'm stalked lately.  I don't feel hunted, just like I'm living from day to day.  It's all so perfect, so scarily perfect.

I'm afraid to touch anything in case it shatters and falls apart like an elaborately painted mirror.

I haven't taken my things out of my bag except my computer.  I haven't needed to.  Miss Cordelia bought me new clothes and a new toothbrush and a new gray sweater because my last one was covered in blood.  There's no blood here.  Everything's really clean and white.  I always lie in the same spot on my bed and creep under the covers without moving them.

I haven't even set up my mom's picture on the nightstand.

I don't want to believe that this is real because I don't think I could stand having it taken away from me.  Maybe it's a life, a beautiful life that some people have, but it's not mine.  My life is full of blood and death and snow and darkness.

Not cities laid out like sparkling jewels and soft, soft beds.  So soft it makes me want to cry.  Too soft to close my eyes sometimes.

Miss Kordelia~

Fuck am I SICK of that name! Doting over her like some stray puppy, Gray has looked even more pathetic lately. It's complete trash. I'm supposed to be the one hugging him while he cries! I'm supposed to be the one who lets him curl up next to me in bed when he has nightmares!

I'm the one who's supposed to give him the happiness and safety he deserves. ME ME ME.

The kid, fuck, Gray adores her. It fucking pisses me off. I'm not buying her whole charity giving loving mother play. It stinks like a pile of shit. So what, she drove all the fucking way to Maine from Las fucking Vegas just to go help Gray because she felt bad for us?

Cause her stupid anorexic asshole of a boss apparently gives a shit about us?

That's a new one.

I abide by her for now because she gives us food and seems to be keeping us alive and safe, and because Gray really does seem to love her. I don't want to deal with that idiotic kid's meltdown if I try and separate him from yet another protector. Though I have a feeling this one won't die so easy as the last.

So yeah, bitch witch, I know you're reading this blog, and I know we've yet to meet in person, but just know that I'm watching you. We may be going to Las Vegas with you but that is far from meaning either of us is your willing slave. If you try anything that could harm one single fucking hair on Gray's head I swear to God you will burn. Even He won't be able to save you. Trust me.

I'll probably be gone by the time you wake up since I'm sneaking out while the kid's asleep, but let this post stand to show that I am here and I don't like you.

And don't you fucking call him 'My Love'. He's my love. You don't get to take him from me. You will never take him from me.

Have a Great Day!

~ The Kor

Rescued Gray

Miss Cordelia. Isn't it a beautiful name? I have never been so glad to hear such a name. She has been my salvation.

I was dying on the streets. Starving, yes, but also dying in spirit. There was nothing in my life. And then there was her. Red against the white snow, against the bleary monotones of my life.

But I couldn't see her red as the sticky red of blood, or even as the red of fire that only consumed. Her's was the red of sunsets, the red of strawberries and valentines. The cold itself could not touch her.

Her touch was as warm as her smile when she found me on the street and told me she had come to save me when she read my despair through my blog. She cared more from thousands of miles away than anyone walking these frozen streets had.

She came right out and told me what she was. A proxy. She didn't try to hide it or lie to me. A proxy, of course I was scared. I have read enough stories to know to be scared, but Miss Cordelia wasn't like that at all. She is just as saddened by the hating and killing in this world as I am. She had been sent to me by Him, but not to kill me, to save me.

I wasn't going crazy when it seemed that He saved me from Jessica's knife. He DID save me! And now He has sent Miss Cordelia to save me again. She told me...I still don't know if I believe it though it is far from me to doubt her, but it is so strange to think. She told me that I am a crafter. That it was given to me because I have "potential".

I am just a stupid useless kid. I am sure she will be disappointed if she thinks that I have any kind of power. But I don't want to disappoint her. She has been so kind, so very very kind, I wish that I could repay everything she's done for me.

But all she wants from me is to come with her so that she can keep giving. Protecting me, feeding me, giving me a bed to sleep in with a roof over my head. Teaching me about things I supposedly can do. It seems almost too good to be true.

Salvation like this doesn't just happen to me. Things never just work out. People as wonderful as Miss Cordelia don't bother with pathetic messes like me. But I can't help believing in it. I might as well enjoy it before it is inevitable ripped away from me like everything else.

I almost feel hopeful. Maybe goodness does exist in this world.

So even though I am leaving my home state of Maine for the first time ever for a city in a desert, I truly feel like I am going home. Maybe to a family.

I'll see you on the other side.

Gray

Cold Gray

If you've never slept outside on the ground in the winter in Maine, I suggest never trying it.  It's hard and cold and there's snow everywhere.  I'm afraid that if my clothes get wet they'll freeze and that'll be the end.  Problem is nothing is dry out here.  I made it into town last night and tried sleeping under a bench.  That's what I've seen homeless people do in movies though I'll admit there aren't many in our area so I can't think of any kind of shelter I could go to.

It was slightly drier down there, but I woke up dusted in frozen mist.

I have never been more cold in my life.  I had resolved not to go to the police and to lie low since people were bound to have noticed that my house burned down and with me having a criminal arson record I didn't want to answer their questions.  Especially about what happened to my mom.  I just can't take them thinking I killed her.  And they would.  They'd be stupid not to.  I'd go back to the Hospital and be stuffed full of drugs and become the next jabbering Graham to ruin some poor kid's life and then end up a pile of organs in a cold gray cell with no one around to care beyond thinking that it's strange.  I can't do that, I can't.  Something about everything I've gone through has to mean something.  I have to achieve something, just one thing before I die one tiny stupid thing...

Calm down, I need to calm down.  Panicking won't accomplish anything.  Tell the story, where was I in the story?  Oh yes.  I woke up, more cold than I have ever been in my life.  I had resolved not to go to the police, but I almost turned myself in just to be promised some warmth and a bed.  Instead I invaded a coffee shop and snuck into the bathroom and holed up in a stall.  I drank from the sink and dried my clothes and ate some goldfish and basically hid from the world.

That's where I am now, but I can't stay here much longer.  The shop's going to close and they'll sweep for people back here.  Besides, I'm nearly out of goldfish and still my stomach betrays me with grumbling.  I've been trying to trick it by chewing this same piece of gum for the last three hours or so but by now it's not food so much as repetitive motion.

Tomorrow I have to brave the cold and starting begging for money.  Tonight I have to find somewhere to sleep that has a roof.  

It's almost laughable.  I thought, having been tortured by a cannibal, pursued by a monster, that my life would at least be interesting if not meaningful.  But after all of that I what, freeze to death?  Die of the flu?  Starvation?  People wouldn't even marvel at my corpse.  Oh look, a poor homeless boy.  A statistic in the system.

I'd almost rather be ripped apart.

one way or another, I'm not going to last much longer out here.

....Dust to Dust

I probably should have seen this coming.

I mean, it seems logical thinking back on it.  But maybe some part of me hoped for it.

This is Gray.  Alone.  Kor's gone.  I mean, not gone, he's still in my head right now, but he no longer has a physical form.  It's just the one of us.  Like always.  

The plan worked, I guess, so that's the plus side.  I'm out of my kitchen.  The factor I did not account for is the fact that starting a fire inside my house may be a bad idea in the long run.  It spread from the body to the walls and that was about when I felt the loop break down.  I don't know how I knew, I just felt something change in my chest like a loosening of a muscle I didn't know I was clenching.  And then The Kor's body vanished.  And the air got a less fuzzy quality to it, like I was seeing the real world not a perfectly copied replica.  

Oh, and my friendly buzzing is back.  Though not so bad that I'm curled up in the fetal position like before.

So I was out of the loop, but my house was also kind of on fire.  I grabbed my backpack and threw in a few things and ran out and now I am posting this while watching the last of my life burn to the ground.  It's kind of a humbling feeling, realizing how little my life amounted to.  A pile of ashes.  Fifteen years and I'm back to square one.

The current total of my life possessions are the clothes on my back, a jacket and hat, my phone, my laptop, a bag of goldfish crackers, a change of underwear, a knife, a picture of my mom, an old pack of gum and the backpack that carries it all.

You know what?  Screw it, I have no dignity left to preserve.  My stuffed rabbit Dorian too.  Yes, I still sleep with a stuffed animal at fifteen and yes I made him a priority to grab as I escaped from my burning house.  Call me a girl or a baby or whatever.  I don't care.  I figure that in the future I may want something to guard against nightmares.

And, yes, if you were wondering, He is here.  He's standing in the forest behind my house (can I still call it my house?) just kinda watching me.  At least He's giving me my personal space.  Oh, He vanished.  I feel bad for whoever He's off to pay a visit.  No sign of the proxy who made the loop.

It's so cold here.  It became the dead of winter outside in what seemed like a couple of hours for me.  I wish I had been able to grab some gloves.  Winters are always killer up here, but this one feels especially cold, even so close to the fire.  Up here?  This is so stupid.  Jessica found me despite how careful I thought I was being.  Maine.  I live in Maine.  And it's cold here.  I'm cold.

Oh no, now all the bad guys know where I live.  Well come and kill me if you feel like it.  I don't really care.  Maybe Kor cares, but it's me right now, and I don't care.

I better start walking.  It's a long way into town and I should find somewhere to sleep before it gets dark.  

Ashes to Ashes

I have to say, when all of this began, I didn't expect that being chased and tortured by a monster and its followers would require so much research. It's kinda like school, if the blogs are primary sources of how not to die, and the essay I'm writing determines my fate.  Boy, you really know how to make everything boring, don't you?

Hi guys.  Gray here.  And Kor.  Yes, and Kor and we are rested and researched and ready to face this challenge!  Today's the day we're breaking out of this thing except we don't know what a day for us means in the real world.  For all we know it could be April by this afternoon Well it doesn't matter, Gray.  It doesn't matter what's happening to them, just what's happening to us.  It's not like we're rushing to get anywhere I guess you're right.  We have nothing left.

Oh come on, we've come so far and  you're going to start crying again now?  Listen.  You keep living until you find a new reason to live.  That doesn't make any sense.  No?  Well it's how the world keeps turning.  And if I have to drag you along by force I will.  Reason enough for you?

Fine.

Besides, I don't have to be inside your head to know that this means more to you than just a possible escape route.  You would have done it regardless.  You're that kind of person.

Let's explain the plan, shall we?  Feel free to do the honors, Storm cloud.  Storm cloud?  It fits you!  Should I go back to grasshopper?  Oh no, you like my love, right?

Okay okay okay I take it back just please get off me.  You're getting off topic.  You're getting me off topic!  Gray, just tell the people our marvelous plan.

Fine.  So from our hasty research on loops we found out two possible escape methods that seem to work most times.  Discounting the ones about chanting magic spells cause, excuse me for being a skeptic but magic?  Seriously?  We also discounted the ones about just waiting it out because we have a limited food source and the ones about just believing in yourself hard enough cause honestly that's bigger bullshit than the magic ones.

So possible solution one was find the proxy who's maintaining the loop and kill him so that he can no longer maintain it.  This one was my personal favorite.  But there were several problems, such as the proxy probably being better trained in combat than us and also he appears to be outside the loop, not in here with us.  If we could get outside the loop that would defeat the whole purpose of needing to escape it in the first place.  Yeah, so we went on to alternate plan B.  Which honestly seemed to have the most support going for it in terms of seeming to work consistently.

It was to do something completely crazy, out of character or just not what you would logically do.  Like jumping off a cliff.  Or drinking whiskey.  Or facing your fear.

I think it was Dr. Fracture who, in a comment said that it seemed like our loop was less of a dimension and more a recreation of the moment that we were trapped in it.  The more I thought about it, the more it made sense.  Time is crawling by, the blood isn't drying, my cuts aren't even healing and we can't leave this room.  If loops are really partially filled by the thoughts of the person inside (which I'm pretty sure I read somewhere) then it would make sense that...that I was a bit hung up on this moment.  That maybe I still am.

So what we're going to do is break it.  It was my idea.  No, it was my idea.  Well, the whole concept was your plan, but I was the one who came up with using fire!  Well, yes, Kor, that is true.

My thinking is that if we're frozen in this moment, we just have to remove something integral to it and the entire loop will break down.  So...I'm going to accept that my mom is dead.  I'm going to move on and maybe time will too.  And the best way to do that is to lay her to rest.  But...I can't even bury her.  We're in our stupid kitchen.  I wish I could get her a priest or something...This is good enough, Gray.  It's respectful and it's final.  Besides, she wouldn't have wanted a lot of people around or a whole big affair.  You know that.  She's got her boy here.  You meant the world to her.  But before she died...the last thing she saw was us betraying her...cutting, cutting out her That was me, Gray.  Not you.  You never had anything but love for her.  You buried everything inside, even before I was here to support you, for her.  She knows how much you loved her.  I could have run.  I could have run and maybe this would never have happened.  We can't know, Gray.  But you loved her, and I swear on my love for you that one day we'll find that Jessica bitch and I will cut out her tongue just for you.

Let's cremate mom for now.  There's been enough death recently.  I just want to get some rest once we escape.  Anything you want my love.

I...still don't want to put up our last name on here, but I want to say something.  So...

Mary Anne, you were the best mom I could ever want.  This blog was supposed to be my eulogy, but it seems it's turned into yours as well.  I never wanted for that, but then again, I never wanted for any of this.  The demons that I'll have to face as I grow up are different than the ones you struggled with, but thank you for trying to protect me from them.  Thank you for sacrificing everything that you were for me, before I was even born.  I'm sorry I was never anything but a disappointment, sorry that I never did anything but make everything harder for you, sorry that I brought this ending to you.  I hope you rest in peace.

When this is finally all over, I'll join you in heaven.  I promise, mom.  

So, it's time I guess.  If what I've read is true all we have to do is really focus on something in here and it'll appear.  Two spark stones make a fire, right?  Flint and tinder.  You ready?  Are you?  I...think so.  

Okay.  See you guys on the other side.  

Timeless Gray

Um.  Happy New Year I suppose.

That is so strange to say.  I thought...I mean, Jessica found us on December 13th.  I know that.  I know....I guess I don't know.  I don't know anything anymore.  I can't trust anything either.  We can't have been in here more than a couple of hours, but from what I've been reading on other blogs it's been weeks.  Weeks......I guess I missed Christmas.

I hadn't thought I'd live until Christmas when I started this blog.  I told Malcolm that I thought it'd be nice to live until Christmas but now that I have I kinda just feel empty.  Why am I alive?  Did...Did He really save me?  Or was it like Craft said, that I just wasn't important enough to bother killing.  That makes sense.  I mean, what am I?  I'm a rat in a cage.  I'm a worm that lost its heart and still manages to squirm.  Why why why why why.

Sir Fracture suggested that it was the loop maker that saved our lives by putting us in here.  Maybe that's true.  But I can't help but feel like this is some kind of torture.  Trapped in here.  Staring at my mom.  Smelling.....We were going to get a tree.  No, I was going to run.  Kor had decided, had made a plan to run.  We wouldn't have had Christmas together anyway.  Or gotten to watch the ball drop on TV.  And we won't ever again.  Cause that's what dead means.

It was all so easy.  So fast.  So fragile.  I didn't think it'd be that easy to cut through flesh and bone and muscle but it all slides so easily.  It all went so fast.

I'm such an idiot.  Making that list of things that are wrong.  I can't list out what's wrong, everything's wrong.  This world is wrong.  I'm wrong.  This is not my kitchen and the me sleeping over there on the floor is not me and the blood leaking from the walls can't be real and this can't be my life.  Weeks I've been sitting here crying and covered in blood.

I knew we all ended up this way.

I don't know who did this, or why they decided to trap us inside this dimensional box, but whoever it is must hate me.  Or else they would have just let me die.

Merry Christmas.  Happy New Year.  By the time this goes up, I guess it could very well be Valentines Day.  I don't know anymore.  I don't know anything.