Moving On

On Friday, Michelle and I went back to my house one last time. It was during the few hours in the late morning when my brothers are at school, my dad is at work, and my mom is out running errands. To be honest, I kind of wasn't sure if Mom would be gone this time. I mean, if my daughter had been missing for the past... holy shit, how long has it been since I actually entered that house? Two months already? More? As excruciating as that time has been, it honestly didn't feel like that long.

But no, the place was deserted. Not that an empty house was all that unusual, I guess. Back Before, it was a time I looked forward to. Now it just felt... disconcerting. Dizzying, even. Hardly surprising, in hindsight, but at the time, the utter alienness of my own home really threw me for a loop.

Michelle was more expedient than me, of course. While I was running my hands over old books and toys, almost reverent in my nostalgia, she was already digging through my dad's stash of useful goodies in the basement and garage (I made her wait for me to check the garage, because neither of us should really be outside alone; my house is in a pretty densely-populated suburb and not particularly near any wooded areas, but considering my front fucking yard was the site of our last Sighting... yeah). My dad guy is a legitimate hoarder, no question about it, but neither one of us will say no to a supply of tasers, rope, tools, camping gear, canned food, and a single handgun. No bullets to be found, oddly enough, and I have no clue what make it is, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it I suppose. We also grabbed a lot of clothes. I probably don't want to know how Michelle has been paying for hotel rooms, but I'm pretty sure I've been wearing the same pair of jeans for longer than I'd care to think about.

After that we looked for personal effects. Specifically electronics. Essentials like my recorder and my camera we took. Other things were deemed less important though. My cell phone had run out of battery by that point, but we didn't bother trying to recharge it. We couldn't take it with us, and I knew I hadn't made any suspicious calls or texts, so we just left it there. I was a bit sad to leave my GPS behind, but the risks for keeping that thing were even greater than the cell phone, so we just cleared its history and turned it off. When Michelle found my iPod in a desk drawer, I took it out of her hand and slammed it into the wastebasket and didn't look at it again, for reasons that should be painfully obvious by now.

I was  surprised to find that my netbook hadn't moved from where I left it, plugged in and open, on my bed beside the window. My desktop computer was similarly untouched; even its internet history hadn't been checked. That had been my biggest worry, honestly, that someone would think to check my browser history when they realized I was missing, and it's the main reason we decided to check back at all. But it didn't look like it had been touched. Nothing in my room did.

Nothing in my entire house indicated that I had even been missed.

I can't tell whether I should be relieved or disturbed. On the one hand, it saves me a lot of trouble trying to evade anyone who might recognize me. On the other... there's just this whole sense of wrongness to it. Still, it fits with what I can remember of the last few days before I left... I'm used to being invisible in the house and kind of doing my own thing, but right at the end there, no one would even look at me...

If it's another layer of protection for those left behind, then I guess I'm alright with it. Not much different than how it usually is anyway. I mean, I checked the photo albums on a hunch, in case my house was pulling some kind of bullshit Roxas-Twilight-Town crap on me, but I'm still in every one of them, so it's not as though I've been mindfucked out of existence (and god help me for even considering that as a realistic option, but dammit, what else is new). In all honesty, it's probably a good thing that no one's worried about me or trying to find me. It'll only keep them safer. So there's no reason for this to bother me at all.

But... just in case I was wrong, and someone did notice, I left a note on the kitchen counter for my mother. If she can't see it, that probably means she doesn't remember me. But if she does remember, then she should be able to see it, so at least she'll know I'm alive.

(Speaking of which, thank you for your interest, Jean, but I left the previous post in code on purpose. I don't mind sharing the contents of my message with you all - record-keeping is very important, when all's said and done - but if Mom can read my note, I don't want her googling its contents and coming across this blog. However, it's good to hear from you and know you're still around. Thank you.)

I cleared my desktop computer completely. All my files are gone, all my programs uninstalled. It's basically an empty machine now. I took my netbook with me, along with its power cord, an external battery, and all the flash drives I own. I refused to leave even the slightest hint behind. I also deleted my facebook account, my youtube, my various writing project profiles, and that stupid Gaia Online avatar I had made years and fucking years ago but still had my email address and could still be traced back to me. Anything I could think of, I got rid of. The only things left up are this blog, and a barely-used-but-still-useful Twitter account. Those two are my only means of online communication now. Anything else under my name is either a coincidence or a sick joke. I even took all my personal papers like my birth certificate, passport, etc. Also my debit card, which I plan to empty my bank account with eventually. Still haven't decided whether easily-lost cash is safer than easily-traced credit. I did buy a couple of go-phones yesterday though, for emergencies.

Transferring everything from Christian's car to my own was the one real indulgence I insisted on. My car's gas mileage isn't as good, and it's still attached to my name and all, which is probably dangerous, but if we're going to be on the run and traveling all over the country, I would much rather we were not using a stolen car to do it. Nothing to do with morals, really, just common sense. Being recognized as a missing person (who is, in fact, missing voluntarily, at least this time around) is much safer than being recognized as a wanted fugitive in two countries. Not to mention that, as bizarre, convoluted, and contradictory as proxy infrastructure appears to be, there is absolutely no sense in driving a car that may or may not be tagged with some kind of tracking device. You just honestly never know. I do plan on changing my license plates later though, if I can.

And... we left. Michelle took Christian's car and I took mine, and we dumped the former in a parking garage in Philadelphia and headed on our way. And I can't tell you how surreal it seemed, turning my back on my home for what was probably (hopefully? fuck i don't know what to hope for anymore) the final time. "Conflicted" isn't a strong enough word for it, really.

I'll try to keep you posted. Not much else for me at this point.



I'll be meeting someone soon.

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I guess the best thing I can compare the feeling to is what happened at the climax of A Wrinkle in Time, except instead of making me compliant... the pounding, the droning... it hurt. It hurt more than I ever thought I was capable of comprehending. It drilled into my mind, pulled out and faded away just long enough to break my concentration and make my guard slip, and then slammed back in again, harder, ripping my sanity to shreds. And because the source of the pain was rooted in something I had always tied myself to so deeply, I couldn't separate myself from it. I couldn't guard myself. I couldn't make it stop.

...I'm still not sure if the whole not sleeping thing was of my own volition or not. All I know about that time is that I was in less pain, but I was even more helpless to fight back than before, because I couldn't concentrate anymore. I couldn't think. And then gradually the pain came back as my body started to shut down.

But it wasn't so much a method of torture as it was a way of ensuring compliance, I think. Complacency.

I'll spare you the nightmares if you give up and die. 

I'll make it easy for you. 

Just let it all go. 

Just wait for it to happen. 

You don't have to do anything but wait. 

Nothing scary, nothing hard. 

And

Aren't you so much better off this way?

But that's the thing about nightmares, these near-constant visions of death and pain that held me in their grip since the moment I walked out my front door. They're scary and terrifying, horrible and disgusting, but at some point you have to realize that there's only so much evil in the world, only so much that can be thrown at you.

And... despite everything, I finally found the source of the cycle. The steady thu-thump that kept time to the music and kept me in line, unable to break free of the rhythm, all the way down to my core.

...Do any of you actually understand how powerful music is? The shrill, armor-piercing note of a flute? The way a melodious violin can lead you on an endless, mindless dance? Or the chill that goes up your spine when the vocalist changes key... Or how a tritone will always, without fail, inspire fear in a captive audience. All these things happen to you when you listen, and you don't even realize how expertly you're being manipulated. To you, it's just sounds, to be given no more attention than a moth fluttering by a street lamp. But your very heartbeat will align itself with the beat of a drum, beating in time with the music with or without your conscious permission.

And... that's exactly what happened. 

...I've always maintained that the way to break a cycle of control is to cut out the starting point. It took so long to find, but... You have to understand. There's a vicegrip effect that happens. If you try to assess yourself, or move around, or do anything at all... it just tightens. And tightens. And tightens. Visions were one thing. Pain was one thing. But when He takes hold of your volition, when He makes you not want to break free, there's nothing you can do.

So instead, I did the only thing I could. The only thing He would allow me to want. But I did it in a way that would also cut out the root, break the cycle.

The music's hold on me... His hold on me... was connected through my own heartbeat. The one rhythm that is always there, that will always be there, until the day that control - His or my own - doesn't even matter anymore.

And the only way to stop it was

was

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you had to see that, Michelle. I'm sorry for putting you through that. I'm so sorry for what I had to do.

I'm so sorry.

I was afraid.

That's... really all there is to say on the matter. It's the reason I left. And it's the reason I took so long to come back.


He was outside. He couldn't get to me, so He commanded me to come to Him, and ripped apart my mind until I had no choice but to obey. He had a foothold, after the lost time in New York. Still does, maybe.

I walked out my front door fully expecting to die. I wanted to die. I had known this was coming for so long. But... at the very last second, I suddenly realized I was afraid to die.

But my own will was already long gone. With every beat, every sound... the music played continuously, ceaselessly, wearing away at my sanity like the steady pounding of waves on the shore. I'm not certain anymore where the point of no return is. The point where you become so empty and the noise echos off the walls of your soul that almost isn't there anymore and the whole thing just collapses under its own weight.

I had collapsed. Luke facilitated that. I wanted to help him, to attempt to repair his shattered maelstrom of a mind, to try and do one last bit of good before I died. The monster was waiting for that moment. Luke was nothing but His tool, even in defiance.

I reached out to the servant, but the Master intercepted. And only an hour later... I would have done anything to make the pain stop. I would have taken little Kimberley by the hand and led her to the forest. I would have shoved Kay into the embrace of the Bleeding Tree and never looked back. I would have painted operator symbols on the walls with the blood of my parents, if it meant I could have a voice to scream with again.

The girl in the iceberg was swallowed whole without resistance. And it's pretty clear by now that I will never be able to do enough good before I die. Not anymore.

avoiceonthewind

'Gmork,' Atreyu stammered, and he couldn't keep his lips from trembling, 'can you tell me the way to the world of humans?'

A green spark shown in Gmork's eyes. He seemed to be laughing deep inside. 

'For you and your kind it's easy to get there. There's only one hitch: You can never come back. You'll have to stay forever. Do you want to?'

'What must I do?' Atreyu asked. His mind was made up. 

'What everyone else here has done before you. You must leap into the Nothing. Don't be afraid. It doesn't hurt.'

'I'm not afraid,' said Atreyu. 'But I never expected to get my hope back in a place like this. And thanks to you!' 

Gmork's eyes were like two thin green moons.

'You have nothing to hope for, sonny - whatever your plans may be. When you turn up in the world of humans, you won't be what you are here. That's the secret that no one in Fantastica can know... But as I speak, the Nothing is creeping in from all sides. Soon there will be no way out. If you stay and listen, your decision is already made, But you can still escape if you choose.'

The cruel line around Gmork's mouth deepened. Atreyu hesitated for just a moment. Then he whispered: 'Tell me the secret. What will I be in the world of humans?'

there was a girl

"My heart booms at the speed of light,

But the exit sign's always on my mind,

Always in my sight.

I could say that I really want to stay,

But the monster outside always wins the fight,

Alwayswait.

"Time--

It's eating me alive,

Unable to rewind.

Sink deeper while I'm climbing,

Never to arriveGet out. No. Thisisn'trealyoucan'tmakeme.

"Dead star shine

Light up the sky

I'm all out of breath

My walls are closing innomywallsaregonewheredidmywallsgo

"Hungry bread-and-butter hussle.

You been doin' it a while, it's only fair.

Where's your relaxaOH FUCK NO! NO! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD!

"I've seen this city a thousand times.

From the glass, twenty stories high, 

I've watched this city burn.

If everything you've said is true,

There's no hope that someday they will learn.

But if I stay here with you,

Then they will never learn the truththiscan'tbehappeningthiscan'tberealohgodstopstopplease

"There was a girl who had the faith to move a mountain,
And, like a child, she would believe without a reason.
Without a trace, she disappeared into the void, andnoIwon't I won't believe this you'renotrealdon'tdon'tDON'TI'm not strong enough to stay away.Can't resistNothing to lose,Can't run from you,Poisoning the message.Nothing to gain.I just run back to you.Just a narcissist.Nothing surrounds me.Like a moth, I'm drawn 

into your flame,Trapped inside the wreckage,Nothing stays the same.Say my name, but it's not the same.Moving all around,And the sympathy I had is gone.You look in my eyes, I'm stripped of my pride.Screaming of the ups and downs.I fought so longAnd my soul surrenders and you bring my 

heart to it's knees.Pollution manifested in perpetual sound.To keep from going under. 

I don't have to worry,The wheels go 'round and the sunset creepsBut why hang on?'Cause I 

know Slendy's watching me.Behind street-lamps, chain-link, and concrete.Nothing matters at 

all.No one else sees him, it seems.A little piece of paper with a picture drawnNothing at 

all.He follows me in my dreams.Floats on down the street 'til the wind is gone,I 

try to hide it,And it finds me.And the memory nowIs like the picture was then:To 
avoid the shock,The fight inside is coursing through me.When 
the paper's crumpled upBut I get pulled inside it:And it binds me. 
It can't be perfect again,My Nothing Box.The fight inside is killing 
me again.Dead star shine,In my dreams I see you come to 
me,Have you ever felt this way before?Light up the sky.A 
memory of times old.'Cause I don't wanna hide here 
anymore.I'm all out of breath.Waking up, I realize 
Hell's cool as ice,Take me to a place where nothing's wrong,
andMy walls are closing in.And the touch of sin did get 
me in."Thanks for coming,"There was a girl 
who had the faith to move a mountain,Nothing 
burns like the cold.Shut the door.And, like a child, 
she would hide without a reason.   stop   Never  
ever talk   nostopplease   Without a trace, she 
disappeared into the void, and noenough   
Never ever smileThere was a girl who 
had the faith to move a mountain 
pleasenomoreithurts   Never ever 
touchAnd like a child she would 
hide without a reason Never 
ever feelithurtssomuchplease
stopitThere was a girlNever 
ever talkwho had the faith 

Never ever smileto move
a mountain Never ever 
touchThere was a girl 

Never ever feel 
who had the faith 
to Never ever
move a
nevereverneverevernonopleasenononononono

IWILLHEARYOUCALLMYNAMEAGAINNO STOP STOP STOP STOP I WONT DO IT YOU CANT MAKE ME MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOPMAKEITSTOPMAKEITSTOPMAKEITSTOPITHURTSICANTTAKEIT
MAKEITSTOPITHURTSITHURTSSOMUCHPLEASEPLEASEQUIETIJUSTWANTQUIETENDTHEPAINENDEVERYTHINGJUSTPLEASESHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUT UP!!!!

oh god

i can wait a thousand hours

stay the same in sun and showers

pick  a p a r t  a hundred flowers

just to be quiet

withyou

I'm so sorry everyone.

The music doesn't work anymore. It won't stop.

My name is Valerie Amanda Simmons, and I think I am about to die.

Phosphorus

I think that is what i shall call you.

you are not the Lightbringer, the beautiful, the favorite son of god. and neither are you the Hesper, the Unfallen One, who made a different choice when the time came. long have I wondered whether i was even capable of healing you. when first we met, your mind was equal parts fire and ice. now it is a Void, gaping, furious, and desperately hungry. A voice screaming from within,
Begging just to feel again

are you like Redlight, Luke? do you seek the mind doctor's help, when the mind doctor can barely help herself? the Evening Star has long since been lost amongst the others, and it's going to be a cloudy Morning.

Phosphorus and Hesperus. Morning and Evening. the Egyptians thought they were two different stars, but i wasn'tfooled. i knew they were one and the same. I've known who andwhat you are for a long time now.

i also knew that Michelle was right about the crutch. because as much as you hate Him, you still need Him

why do you think i stopped trying? if you ever got the courage to put your crutch aside, the results would be disastrous

I'm not I'm not myself
Feel like I'm someone else
So hollow so hollow inside
A part of me is deadis that what happened? that's what it is to be Hollow, after all. functionally dead. to become as much like That Which Is Not as possible. an extension of what you fear, of what you deny. what you deny controls you.

but you exist, Luke Cifer.

you Exist in the worst possible way.




...still, i suppose i must thank you
for my current coherency

I doubt it's intentional, but your presence  anyone's presence  helps me focus. another mind to compare to mine    existing by relation      that's how it all works in the end.

but that still begs the question
what are you doing outside my window, awaiting the rise of your namesake? i feel your lower instincts clammoring for control. surely you mustknow something  to have traveled all this way

You'll burn this time
Seeing the violence,
It's feeding my mind.
No one is saving you.
How can you find
A heaven in this hell?


oh

i see now



but

maybe if i just

                 r e a c h e d
                                   no.


nononononono. NO.



nothat'snotwhatineedthat'snotwhatyouwantedwhathaveyoudoneLukeWHATHAVEYOUDONE?
































no   no bring him back   dont make him leave   hell kill everyone if i dont fix him pleasenoGETAWAYFROMME







Beg for silence, little girl. Beg for death.

And then you will come to me.