Showing posts with label broken bones broken dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label broken bones broken dreams. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Memorial Gray

Hi guys.  Been a while, I guess.  I'm still down an arm, so I guess typing hasn't been the top on my list of wants.  But this blog was supposed to be my eulogy, and after my brush with death I don't want to abandon it.  This blog could be the only thing I ever contribute to this world.  Might as well talk about someone actually worth your time, for example, anyone who isn't me.

I'm gonna tell you about Graham.

Graham was twenty when I met him and when he died.  Five years older than me, but we were still the closest in age of everyone in the Hospital.  We were all crazy, but he looked....haunted.  I guess hunted is a better word for it.  He looked like the generic patient you see in horror films about insane asylums, the twitchy kind who look over their shoulder all the time and whisper about people following them.  He was a walking stereotype.

We're not really supposed to know what all the other patients are in for, but everyone kind of hears anyway.  It's hard to describe the community built in one of these places, I've never been to jail, but I'd say it's a softer version of that.  We didn't get much time out of our cells but we all had the same psychiatrists and the same nurses so we had a sense of unity.  Us against them.  But a lot of the guys in there were pretty terrifying, not the kind of people I wanted to hang out with.

So basically what I'm trying to say is it took all of two days for everyone to know that Graham was arrested standing in a pool of blood with a machete, surrounded by body parts, shaking and screaming that they were coming for him.  A walking stereotype, as I mentioned before.

I don't know if he gravitated to me because of the age thing I mentioned earlier, because I certainly never tried to approach him.  I didn't make friends there, I hadn't hardly made more than casual acquaintances in all the time I had been there.  Maybe he was attracted to me because he felt like I was a potential stalked.  Do you think that there are specific people destined to be stalked?  Maybe He guided him to me.  He jumps by infection, so He controls His victims like vehicles to make His way to His preordained victims.  Or maybe it was just me being unlucky.  

Either way, Graham decided to open up to me.  He told me about his whole life, how he had been in college when his friends showed him those videos.  Marble Hornets, I think it was.  I personally have never gotten up the courage to watch them, especially since I went into my research about Him knowing that He was real.  The videos just seem far more terrifying than these blogs.  In writing there are no jump scares.  I'm terrible at jump scares.

Basically, Graham and his friend Tony got infected together, through the videos I guess.  Sometimes he was incoherent, I'm sure some real insanity was mixed in with the Slender stuff that society deemed "insanity", and I didn't think then to ask follow up questions, so the story is patchy.  He and Tony started seeing Him around campus and they fled together.  He talked about finding what I realized later are these blogs, part of what helped me find them, and he read about the strategies you guys have compiled.  They latched on to 'keep moving' and made it their mantra.  They made it almost across the country evading both proxies and the police since their parents sent out missing person reports pretty immediately after they skipped town.  Graham used to get almost calm looking remembering those days.  Sometimes he would forget about telling me his story at all, instead just lapsing into college memories.  Or what his mom looked like.  Or when he met Tony.  Or Liza, who I gathered was some kind of crush though I don't think he ever worked up the courage to ask her out.

They kept each other sane for a pretty long time, Graham and Tony.  It was months before there was any  serious sign of trouble.  They were crashing in an abandoned house and Graham woke up in the middle of the night to see Tony missing from his lookout post.  When he went downstairs he found him, with two other  men all carrying machetes.  At this point Graham gets a bit gibber-y, and so I had to work out most of the story myself.  He just kept repeating the part where he saw them and asked Tony if he'd found more runners.  

"Did you find more runners?" he kept saying over and over until he would start shaking and rocking back and forth.  "I saw him there and I said 'did you find more runners?' and then...and then' and then he'd start screaming or convulsing and the orderlies would sedate him and drag him back to his cell.  With the limited amount of time we had out of our cells to talk, it took most of the months we had together to get past this part.

From what I can gather, He had told Tony that He would protect him and his family if he joined Him.  I wonder how He asks people things like that.  Does He have a voice?  I wonder what it sounds like.  He's never spoken to me.  The trade off was that Tony had to kill Graham.  I don't know how the fight went down, but from the police report it seems that he somehow got one of the machetes and killed all three.  Then he was too freaked out by it to move, and the police had been called about noise disturbances and they found him there.  Crying and covered in blood.

I wonder how many of us end up that way.

I had known Graham a while by the time that he finished his story.  I still thought he was crazy, but it was scary nonetheless.  I had never heard of Slenderman or anything before this.  It was the day after he finished his story that everything came apart.  I have to wonder if He was waiting for the end of the story to do it.  Like Graham had outlived his usefulness once he told it all to me.  Maybe Graham knew that, somewhere in his heart.  That's why he was so reluctant to complete it.  Like he knew that He ruled his life, and all he had left to do was pass on his story and then die.

Our Hospital, you have to understand, was more than a mental institution.  It was for the criminally insane.  This wasn't padded rooms, this was guns and bars.  It would take someone seriously skilled to break into one of our cells.  To break in with a weapon and spend the time tearing someone to pieces.  To then break in to another cell and leave pieces of the first victim.  To make the security cameras in just those two areas fuzz out.  So when Graham showed up that morning as a pile of his own organs there was mass panic.  I was the lucky winner.

I got his right foot.  On my bed.  I woke up to it just being there.  I have never been more terrified in my life.  Even the first time I saw Him.  And I immediately believed everything Graham had said.  It just wasn't possible for a human to do something like that.  Graham had been so sure that he wasn't safe here, that He could still get him, and he was right.  

I was removed from the Hospital and put in protective custody.  I was going to be released soon, anyway.  Since I had received the special message, they assumed that I was next.  I guess they were right.  He came to my new cell.  I saw Him.  But he didn't do anything to me, he just let me know that this was my life now.  What had been Graham was now going to be me.  I knew better than to tell anyone.  They would just lock me up again, and I'd be a sitting duck.  But I also knew that running didn't help.  It hadn't saved Graham.  It won't save me.

There.  I've told his story.  It took forever and my arm hurts.  I'm going to sleep.  

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you this.  I'm pretty much damning you with every word I say.  I just have to.  You have to know.  I'm sorry, He's coming, and we'll never be saved."
-Graham Piers    

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Failure Gray

So I promised a 'what happened' post and here it is.  But I guess to fully explain all this I should probably start from the actual beginning and explain about The Kor and all of that.  He's here now, in my head, just like old times.  I can hear him when he's awake in there, just like he can hear me if he's in control.  He's asleep now though, which is why I'm posting.  I don't feel like having his commentary on what I'm going to put here.

The Kor is an alternate personality of mine that was formed when I was seven.  My dad wasn't very nice to me for...extenuating reasons.  Most of which were his fault.  I don't want to get into that.  It's hard to type with just one arm and I can see this getting long.  I'll just leave you with this: my mom is 31 and I'm 15.  If my dad was alive he'd be in his 50's.  Do the math.  I didn't even grasp what an asshole he was back then, I just wanted him to come live with the family, help my mom out financially.  My mom refused to blame him.  He wasn't exactly receptive to my criticism.

That was when The Kor was born.  Made?  Whatever.  He took the hardships for me.  We worked well together then.  He just dealt with all the pain that I couldn't handle.  But I didn't realize how far he would go and he burned down my father's church killing him and two of my classmates.  He said that it was to protect me.  I mean, I think he really does believe that he's just trying to help.  But it did land the both of us in a hospital for the criminally insane for eight years of our life.  Where I was cured, I guess, if you consider getting rid of him a cure.  I'm not a hundred percent sure I do.  Either way I was released after he was gone for three years straight.

Though he's back now, that's self-explanatory.  And I have this feeling that He doesn't like him too much.  The Monster I saw through The Kor's eyes was not the Monster that looks at me.  And while The Kor was posting that last time the computer started freaking out and he turned around and The Slenderman was right there behind us, in my room.  I had never seen him that close before.  Though I complain because I'm weak, He hasn't actually done anything to me directly.  Other than the mental stress and the slendersickness, He hadn't done anything.

Well I could never have imagined the fear and pain.  He was not smiling anymore.  He didn't waste a second with staring like he is sometimes prone to do.  Those tentacles were out and then we were across the room hitting the wall left arm first (which is why this message comes slowly through one-handed typing).  I really thought I was going to die there.  The Kor was still screaming insults at Him through the blood he was coughing up and I was screaming for him to stop inside our head and I thought that was it, He was going to end us.  But instead he reached out (God, his arms go on forever, don't they?) and he touched our forehead and I felt The Kor get shot back.  I can't really describe how that feels, but suddenly I was back in control and The Kor was broken or something and I could feel his pain and my head was filled with screaming and I don't know if any of it was mine, but I must have been making some noise because my mom came bursting in and I was crying on the ground with my arm all wrong and surrounded by blood and now I'm in the hospital.

The Kor is slowly pulling himself back together and swearing for all he's worth.  I'm sure he's in a lot of pain, or whatever he could possibly feel, I don't know how we work.  I don't even know if he's what he used to be.  From what I've read being around Slender makes preexisting mental conditions worse.  I guess I'll find out.  Or maybe we won't.  I don't know why I'm alive now, but I am teetering on the brink of losing everything that means anything, and it seems like He takes his prey as despairing as possible.  So I'm not long for this world.

My mom wanted to know if I was being bullied.  She had found some of my notebooks, and she wanted to know if I was adopting this Slenderman stuff to try and cover up for other things.  She started researching about it.  She started researching about it.  I am a failure.  I just wanted her to be safe.  But I guess that we're both going to die painfully now.  I'm a terrible person for thinking that it would be nicer to do it together.  I'm stuck in this hospital for a while.  I'll probably post again.  Or not, if I'm dead.  Either way, I've lost any small amount of hope I had.

There is no way to escape this fate.             

Friday, October 31, 2014

Worse Than Worthless Gray

I'm back. Me. Gray, I mean. If you don't believe me...well I guess then you just don't. There's no way I can convince you, and it's honestly probably not worth the effort it would take. Especially considering how hard it is to type right now for me.


None of you were really all that worried about me, or about The Kor I guess since he was typing when his post cut off, but I'm glad that you didn't. I'm not worth a single passing thought. I'm a terrible person, and everything bad that's going to happen to me is all my fault. It's all because I'm so stupid and useless and completely unable to protect anyone.


One person. That was all I wanted. To save one person. I had no lofty ideas of being any kind of hero, no ambition to help anyone. I just wanted to be a little better than the pile of shit that I always am and I can't even do that! Even when I hide in a corner I still manage to fuck it up somehow. Why can't I have even a little happiness in my life? Am I being punished by God? Can't I just die knowing that I didn't doom anyone else.


My mom knows about it all. All of it. She doesn't believe it but it's only a matter of time. I figure I should tell the whole story, but it's late and I'm tired and my arm hurts and I just want to sleep. Besides, I bet that no one will want to read this blog anymore anyway. I'm just a sinking ship that will bring anyone I love down with me. That's all any of us are. The starting point from which the infection spreads. Every one of His victims represents four more in the future. What will we do when it is too late to stop the sickness?



I don't know what I'm rambling about. It's hard to type with one arm. I'll post more of the story tomorrow. Good night.