Grief, rage, and boredom

Those are my three most pronounced emotions these days.  These police seem to believe I am the most likely target, even though nothing has happened in weeks.  I am watched even closer than the others--Erika's no longer escorted outside the home, Mary is allowed unsupervised outings during the day, and Clayre has even been allowed to head back home!

But I'm stuck, watched all day, every day.  I scarcely get time alone in the bathroom.  It's not that I wish something would happen...I just wish I could be free from this.  Tam's death has been...it should have been a moment, a terrible moment, but one that, like all moments, passed with time.

Instead, it's been my all.  It's been everything in my life.  I've not been allowed to even try to move on.  That is all I want...the chance to grow past this.  To heal.

But I fear I will never get it.

Working out is hard

I have expressed my desire to get in better shape, both for my baby, and for me, in case the killer returns.

Surprisingly, Erika knows a lot about defense.  She has taught me a lot already, and I'm learning more every day.

It is also exhausting.  Perhaps the baby is finally starting to take its toll on me.  Or maybe I'm just a wimp.  I am inclined to believe I am fantastic at any given juncture, so I'm blaming the interloper in my stomach.

Erika isn't just good at self-defense, though.  I've heard her have many an argument with some of the officers around here.  Apparently, she likes to give them the slip when she's out on her morning jog.  I'm not sure where she goes, but when she is finally picked up again it's usually with some coffee for all of us so I can't complain too hard.

I just worry about here.  About everyone. We've been stuck here for over two weeks now.  When does it end?  When does it stop being likely that this killer will come after us?  How long do we have to wait?  I know I spouted some rather inspiring rhetoric about being read for the killer, but am I?  Do I have to be ready my whole life?  How long must we wait for the other shoe to smack us upside out collective heads?

He's back

Twice, this week, I've seen the man in white.  Always when I'm alone in the house--save for the police.  He always disappears before I can call them over.  I wonder...is he the Chrysanthemum Slasher?  Could I have stopped this before it happened?  Is Tam's blood on my hands?

I can't stop thinking about it.  I've talked with the others about it, and the police.  I haven't seem him since and the police are setting up more patrols to look for him.

I should be scared.  But I'm not.  The void inside me is finally fading, after weeks of suffering, of numbness, I've finally found my true response.  The emptiness is gone.

In its place is now rage.

I have been sulking around like a wounded animal.  Like a dog that can't get over its master's death and has decided to waste away rather than live without him.  That will not be how Ashleigh Torn is remembered.

It's time to get mad.

I won't cower.  I won't simply walk into death.  I am not letting my baby die.

If this bastard comes for me, I will be kicking and screaming.  I give my word on that.

Greetings from protective custody

There is nothing quite like being woken the day after your fiance has been found dead in your very own place of residence by the police.

To answer any questions, I am fine, for the moment.  Though, perhaps, a better way to say that is I am numb, for the moment.  I feel cold, cold and empty.  It will probably pass in time, but for now, I feel nothing. Clayre, Erika, and Mary all worry for me, but they shouldn't.  This has wounded me, it has cut me  very deeply, but I will survive, and I will scar over, and I will be a better person for this.

I have almost repeated that enough that I believe it.

At any rate, you have probably gained additional questions due to my rather attention-gathering post title.  I had thought of perhaps doing something a bit less gaudy, but in the end, I went with shock value.  Gauche, I know.

I am being held by the police, for my own good.

Apparently, the death of Tam, coupled with the lead-up to his murder, follow the pattern of a serial killer known as "the Chrysanthemum Slasher".  Given the pattern of the Slasher, either I, someone Tam knows, or someone I know could be the next victims.  So, I have police watching my movements at all hours of the night.  Clayre and Mary and Erika have been staying with me at a house where we can all be watched carefully "for our own protection".

...and I honestly do not care if I am next.

I know that sounds terrible.  I just do not care anymore.  It's not that I don't want to live anymore.  I just don't care if I die.

Yes, I know this means the baby would die too, but...I feel like a horrible person, but I have a hard time caring about that either.  You didn't see what his body looked like.  The pain he must have gone through.  he must have been so scared, so alone.  The killer took his heart.  He took my Tam's heart.  Why would someone do that to someone else?  What sort of world am I bringing this child into, where someone will do that to another human being?