I am fine

But regardless of that fact, we are about to go to the hospital.  Erika assures me we will be fine, and that we need to go.  Any trauma to me can hurt the baby.  Also, this finger will probably need re-attached.

I woke up missing my finger.  It was resting on the night stand, next to a sprig of lemon balm.

The wound's been dressed, but now I'm being rushed out of my seat.

I do not like missing my left ring finger, but I would like being arrested even less.  I

This is Extra.  I have taken  the computer from her.  We are leaving now, no matter how much she flails at me.

Something odd

I don't believe Erika is being entirely straight with me.

I am fairly certain she is being followed by something as well.

Every once in a while it becomes...cold.  Freezing, even.  Colder than even winter should be.

Even more rarely, I catch sight of a little boy covered in a layer of frost.

And I, typically, when this occurs, I hear a nursery rhyme.

Of course, Erika tells me it is nothing, as she tells me everything is "nothing".  It is surprising the walls of reality themselves don't fall down around Erika or Extra or whatever her name is, given the amount of times everything about her is "nothing".

Thanksgiving

I was thankful out of spite this year.  I am doing many things out of spite this year.

I was thankful for my baby, even though she's starting to be something of a hassle.  I am starting to wonder what sort of dementia I have been suffering wanting a second chance at pregnancy.  I was thankful for Erika, even if she is just about the worst person to have on hand while you're pregnant.  I was even thankful for this lovely bouquet I received.  I am not going to cower ever time I get some flowers.  You're stalking the wrong girl to get that reaction, you monster.

I am sort of worried about the end of my term, though.  What happens when I have to stay put?  It's going to happen sooner rather than later.  My second trimester will be over in roughly a month's time.  I won't be able to run, soon.

No, I'm not going to dwell on that.  Erika's been looking for a safe place.  In her own way, I suppose.  I need to focus on moving forward.  Protecting the baby.  For Tam and for myself.  I will see this through.

One more thing

Clayre.  Mary.

I've gotten your emails.  I'm sorry I can't tell you where I am.

I hope you realize it's for the best.  Don't try to find me.

I don't want you to get more wrapped up in this mess than you already have.

I love you both.  Even you, Mary--you're like the sister I never really wanted, until I had her.  Whereas Clayre actually is the sister I never really wanted.

...but I'm making too light of it.  Please.  Take care of yourselves.

And don't follow me.

My baby

You are, perhaps wondering why I'm putting myself at such risk for this child.  I know Erika is.

The answer is simple.  There are two parts to it.

The first is the obvious one.  Maternal love.  It needs no real explanation.

The second, and stronger reason, however?  Spite.

I am going to have this baby.  I am not going to let anything stop me from having this baby.

I can tell Erika really, really wishes to argue with me, but for some reason, she cannot argue my reasoning.  Perhaps spite is a powerful driving force for her as well.

I had better get back to bed, if for no other reason than the stop Erika's constant moaning that I should go back to bed.  I imagine it's more fun for my little parasite if the sudden urge to pee wakes me up than if I'm up already.

...I wish Erika had better sleeping bags.  Yes yes, I know, poor pampered pregnant city girl.

Flowers

Today I woke up and resting on my chest was another bouquet of forget-me-nots.

Erika says this means we have to keep moving.  This is simple for her to say, as she is not rapidly gaining weight, nor does she have to urinate every ten seconds because a tiny freeloader is growing inside of her.

She tells me it would be in my best interest to have an abortion.  She tells me this at least once a day.  She even offers to perform it herself.

I will not.

I will carry this baby to term.

Whether I will keep her, or whether she will go up for adoption is another thing, but she will be born into this world.  I will have her.  Nothing that monster can do will stop me.

I suppose I should sleep.  I'll need all I can get, so I can wake to a bright, sunny morning of vomiting my guts out once again.

Erika

I have  a little time.  Not much, but a little.  Erika--she has lost the war on preventing me from calling her that--wants us to get as far away from where we were as possible.  She doesn't want to police finding us.  I tend to agree--I doubt I would be very interesting quarry--if that is indeed what is keeping me alive--from protective custody.

She won't tell me much about herself.  She says she was watching me because I remind her of someone she lost.  She also says she was once a victim of these...creatures, herself, in the past.

I want to trust her, but...I don't know what to think, anymore.  I long for a time when I could blame the death of my fiance on the evils of man.  But now?  The world is so much darker than I knew it to be.  Can I afford to trust someone like her when literal creatures of darkness are out to get me and my unborn as well?

I should sleep.  I have a long day of being homeless and on the run tomorrow.

Whirlwind

Have you ever had a day you were certain was a dream?

That has been today.

When I looked into the main room, I saw a man there.  I didn't recognize him.  He didn't see me, at first,  but I heard him call out.

"I gave you the warnings!  I left the codes!  You should have listened!  It's too late, now...it's too late for both of us!"

I waited until he was looking the other direction and slowly closed my door.  I turned towards my window and prepared to open it.

Then....I saw

I'm not sure what it is.  What it was.

It was shaped like a man.  It had wild, messy red hair, the sort of red no person's hair actually is.  It wore an oversized, blood-soaked shirt that covered its hands with over-long sleeves.  It must have had eyes, but I never remember seeing them.

I just remember its smile.

It was so wide, so impossibly wide.  Full of teeth, an impossible number of teeth, more than should have fit in an already impossibly wide smile.

And then it was in the room with me.

I scrambled to the door and flung it open, and tried to run, but the man in the room grabbed me, held me down no matter how hard I struggled against his grip.

"See, see what you're making me do!  It's your fault.  You should've run!"  The man cried and that...that thing walked slowly towards me.  The grin never left its face.  It only grew larger.

It knelt next to me.  Blood dripped off its shirt, onto the ground.  It held out a sleeve covered hand towards me, and I felt a cut slowly open across my  cheek, seemingly with no source.  I saw...I tried to look at its eyes, but I couldn't.  I could only see that horrible mouth, that horrible grin get wider and wider.

I realized it was going to torture me.  It was going to cut at me and bleed me and make me suffer.  And then it was going to take my heart.  It was going to kill me, and my baby, like it had killed Tam.

There was nothing I could do to stop it.

And that's when the man in white saved my life.

He burst in the room and stabbed the man holding me down in the chest with a butterfly knife.  The creature looked casually up at him, and the man in white wrenched the blade out of the man's body and slammed it into the monster's chest, right where the heart would have been on any human.

He then grabbed me and pulled me up, kicking away the now gasping for air man in the process, and pulled me as fast as he could us out of the building.

We had bolted out the front door and were starting to rush down the street when I realized that the "man" in white wasn't a man at all.

It was Erika.

Police cars pulled to a stop in front of us, and police  rushed out, pulling their weapons and ordering us to freeze.  Erika did so, as did I, mostly out of reflex.  I had no idea what was going on....I had no idea how I'd been saved, or what I'd been saved from.

I almost began to ask when the police in front of me were suddenly torn into ribbons by some invisible force.  From behind their cars stepped the creature, knife still protruding from its chest.  It walked slowly towards us.  Erika shoved me behind her and stepped forward, as if to meet it head on.

The thing cocked its head slightly, and reached both of its hands to the blade.   It pressed them to the weapon and slowly pulled it out without gripping it.  It then slowly held the knife out, as if offering it back.  Erika did not accept it, and the beast just let it topple to the ground.

It leaned to the side, and looked right at me.  Its grin somehow got even wider, now substantially wider than the face it belonged to, and then it vanished.

In its place was a bouquet of Forget-me-nots.

"Erika.  Erika, what was..."

"My name is not Erika."  She said.  "And we need to get you away from here, quickly.  You will live only as long as you provide decent sport for that--thing."

"But what's going on?!"  I asked.  "What was that?!  Who are you?!"

Erika--or whatever her name was--flipped her knife closed and placed it in her trenchcoat.  "I picked the name Erika because it is...similar to what I have been calling myself.  You should call me Extra.  The Extra Piece.  As for what that thing was...some call it the Smiling Man.  I try not to call these entities by their actual name.  I have thought of it, in the past, as the Where the Wild Roses Grow."

She has told me...substantially more, since we've been fleeing.  This is the only moment of respite I've known since the hellish whirlwind the day started as.

That..thing will follow me.  It will torment me until I stop being interesting to it, and then it will kill me.  All I can do to survive is...make it an interesting chase.

It is one of many, many creatures of its kind.  She won't tell me how she knows any of this, or why it didn't just kill her, too, when it had the chance.

We're at a diner.  Erika's--I cannot think of her otherwise--telling me we need to get moving, to find a place to sleep.  Before something comes and finds us.

I will post when I can.

Right now...I feel as though I need to sob myself to sleep.

Mary....Clayre...don't worry about me.  I think...I think I'll be fine, for now.  I think we'll be fine.

I came out of the bathroom and the police are gone.

I can't see them outside, either.  Just their car.

If you don't hear from me again...

...I'm sorry.

I'll try to fight but, if I die...maybe I get to see Tam again.

Someone's in the main room.

The police have been keeping secrets from me.

They haven't released me because I've been getting bouquets.  None of the other girls did.  Just me.

They've been throwing them away, but I got one today.  It was in my closet.  Just waiting for me.

I didn't recognize most of the flowers, but I did a couple.  Bulrush.  Red chrysanthemums.

There was a card with the flowers.  There was just one word on it.

"Soon."

The police almost have a full squad here now.  Erika and Mary want to be here but they're being kept away. Probably for the best.  For their own good.

It won't be long now.

I will hurt him for you, Tam.

Wish me luck.

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.

It is official

I am just a wimp.

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?

nononononononono

oh god please no

no no no

i don't know what

i didn't

no no no no no no no

This is Erika.  I have made Ashleigh take a sleeping pill and lie down.  Because she is still out of sorts, I will finish this for her.

The details are sketchy, but from what I can gather, when Ashleigh came home on Friday, she found the body of Tam, her fiance, on her bed in her apartment.  I will not go into the details on the cause of death or the extent of his injuries--suffice it to say, it is fairly impossible for his death to have been anything save foul play. None currently know how his body was taken here--there were no witnesses, and Mary was home the entire time and heard and saw nothing.

She may not post in this blog for a while.  She asked me to say that specifically.

Please, have patience with her.  This is a very trying time for her.

Siblings

Clayre has been here two days and I already sort of want to strangle her.  But I suppose that would be a success in her book.  It's hard for me to mourn and fret when I wish to flay my sibling alive and roll her still-conscious body in salt and lemon juice.

But it's good to have her here, vitriol aside.  She has helped more than I thought she would.  She's pushing my buttons.  Keeping me distracted.

It still hurts, but I'm healing.  I don't think I will be "better" by any stretch of the imagination for a long time, but I think...I think I might by okay for a while.  I hope I can be okay for a while.

She's taking me out for late night ice cream.  As much as I abhor to stick to the stereotypical feminine standby for feeling better, that sounds really, really fucking good right now.

Empty

I wish this was not always a broken record these days.

Tam's gone.  He's gone.

It hits me in waves.  Sometimes, I will be sitting, and it will have, for scant, precious moments, slipped my mind.

And then, it all comes crashing back.  The horrible truth of it strikes me like a viper, and I am left broken.  Empty.

I love him so much.  Is this my fault?  Did I chase him away?

Please, Tam.  Please, I need you.  I can't raise this baby alone.  I'm not even sure I can carry her to term on my own.

I feel so weak.  I learned to be strong because he believed in me.  Now I feel...useless.  Pining and worn and tired, so tired.  Mary and Erika have tried to slip me drugs, to make me sleep.  I can't sleep.  What if he calls?  What if he needs me but I can't hear the phone?  Or I don't get his email in time?

...I should sleep regardless.  My sister is coming up tomorrow, to just...help me.  I'm not sure what she can do...but...

Goodnight, Tam.  I miss you.  Come home.

Nothing

I've been tearing Tam's apartment apart for a week now.

Nothing.  No hints about where he went, no clues about what happened to him.  I go over every day and work for hours and hours.  Nothing.

Except for those fucking flowers.

His roommates are reporting that before he vanished, Tam was receiving flowers at a rate of approximately one bouquet a week.

No cards, no florist's mark, price tag, or barcode.  No sign they existed at all, really.

I don't understand.  Who was sending him these things?  Why?  Is he hurt?  Has someone taken him?

...in other news, I'm getting an automatic A for the semester, given the circumstances.  I did not even have to go to my last few history classes.

I wish I could be happy about that.

When I was fifteen, I got pregnant.  It doesn't really matter how.

I tried to hide it, at first, but I assume I was too jumpy, too nervous.  My parents found out.  My parents freaked out.  They told me I had to do something about it.  Hills Like White Elephants and all that.

Mary went with me, she called in sick to school just to come with me.  She held my hand when I went in.  She hugged me when I came out crying.

I know it was the right thing to do.  I know that, objectively.  I couldn't have taken care of the baby.  I was probably still too small to give birth to it.  But....at the time, I was so convinced that I was failing her.  So utterly sure that I was just giving up on her before she even had a chance.  I wanted to at least give her up for adoption, but my parents....they wouldn't hear any of it.  I had to do something about it, they told me.

And now Tam is missing, and I'm pregnant again.

If he were here, we could have figured something out.  Maybe I could have stayed at home after graduating--it's not as though I was not thinking of taking time off from school anyway.

But now he's gone.  He's still gone.  There's still no sign of him.  The police are looking, but I don't believe they actually think they will find him.

...tomorrow, I think I will check his apartment.  I am a bit hesitant though.

Just after he went missing, when I called his roommate, he said something that made me think he was cheating on me.  He said, "He's not here, but he did get all those flowers you sent him."

I have never sent Tam any flowers.  I never would, except perhaps ironically.

At first, I thought they were from another woman (or possibly a man).  However, now I am wondering if they did not have something to do with his disappearance.  They make me...nervous, somehow.  Afraid, if you can believe that.  Me, afraid of some flowers.  Terrifying posies and horrible forget-me-nots.  If my fiance was not missing it would almost be hilarious.

Regardless, I will see what I can find tomorrow.  I hope...I hope I can find something.  I need to find something.