Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Day Four-Fifty-Two: Bad ideas



I tried to leave today.

It did not go well.

Grylock may be a dick, but he's a dick with a sense for priorities. He knows that getting me healed is more important than anything else. Why risk myself needlessly by attempting to travel when I could… just… NOT travel? Y'know? Seems reasonable enough to all involved.

Except me.

'cause me, I'm in love. And somehow I'd managed to forget all about it.

I may not have mentioned it much, but since Libby and Grayson left to establish Pubtwon in the first place I've felt… I dunno… a veil. Lifting. Slowly, very slowly, but… always pulling upward. It moved so gradually that at first I didn't know what was behind it, so I made the dumbass decision to, y'know, try and woo another woman.

(Who is, admittedly, pretty attractive. Foul kiss or no, she's a fine lady.)

But that's not what I wanted. I understand that now, because the veil isn't just gone, it's been ripped from my eyes. I want my Libby back. I want things returned to the way they were. And that won't happen until…

Uh… until…



He is my son. Even if he thinks he isn't, even if I think he isn't, Grayson's my kid. Thus he's my responsibility. Thus, he's… I dunno… my curse to bear. Or something. If Libby loves him as much as she says she does, then it's up to me to make our dysfunctional little family work. Even if I hate Grayson and Libby hates Eve, we are a family. Some kind of family.

But I don't think Grayson's got Libby wrapped around his finger with sheer charm. He's done something to her, just like he did something to me. And it's making her hate me. I just know it. Sure, I've fucked up a lot in the last few months, but not so much that we can't work things out. He's in the way, he wants to stay in the way, and nothing I can say will change Grayson's mind.

In other words, in order to save my wife… I may have to kill my son. That's a disgusting thing to say, but it's true.

There's so much going on right now. The trial, the digging, Libby missing, Grayson missing, the fiasco in the cave… still don't have an answer for that… so much. Were I feeling sane I'd probably have no clue where to start. But now that my love for Libby is back, the path is clear and set. I have to find her.

And that's why I went looking. And that's why I collapsed in the middle of the night, half a mile from camp, calling feebly for my wife as I begged for her forgiveness. Pretty pathetic, I know, but I was desperate. Desperate and broken and lonely.

I didn't find her. All I found, when I collapsed, was an embankment. An embankment that sent me tumbling down into a shallow ravine, where I landed badly and, uh, broke… my leg. Broke it in two places, I think. It wobbles too much.

I've been hurt before, but never this hurt. I can barely move. Writing this entry is horrible. I should, by all rights, be dead… but I was retrieved, only semi-conscious, by a most surprising creature. And she brought me to someone who might be able to heal me.

She also brought me my diary. And as I write, I'm feebly attempting to brush wolf hair off of my clothes.

Caves are not comfortable.

Not sure at all what's happening,

Dragomir the Busted

1 comment:

  1. Dude sounds haggard...chicks dig haggard guys. So my only advice is to go get injured and maybe a few scars, and Libby will come running back drooling over his bad-ass injuries!...or atleast that's the thing I've been told by other guys...dunno if it actually works...