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11/28/2017 12:15 PM
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The Bucket -AC
1. Meet Cinderella - It's always been my goal to meet that Princess. Yes, I know she isn't real, that it was just a fairytale, but she was the one that got away from her evil stepmother, the one that was able to escape a horrible wrath, and live happily ever after. Somewhere in my head I think I could learn a thing or two from her.
2. Open Up An Outreach Center- Its against all I am, rather, all that most see. Though I am proud of the life that I have etched for myself, I can't help but wonder what life might have been if I had been taken on a different path, and had a little guidance.
3. Find Faith - I have watched so many die before my eyes and always I hear them cry out for God. I see them tortured, mutilated and yet they still have this undying faith. Even as they lay taking their last breath, they seem to have peace in knowing they have something great beside them. I want that. I want to be able to see something in this world that is greater than the eye can see.
4. Locate Grace's Body - I think about my little girl every single night. I regret how everything played out and I regret not finding some other way. But I was only a child, reacting much like a child would. Its not forgivable, which is why I would never think to add it to my list, but I want to find her remains. I want to give her the proper burial that she deserves and know that I did love her. That I DO, love her.
5. Adopt A Child - This one surprises me more than it might surprise anyone, but I want a shot at being a father. A shot at loving someone and knowing that sense of love in return. I want to be able to do something positive, and give a life a chance to be something worthwhile, instead of just a number in a f***ed up system.
6. Give The Entire Dark Room Video To Elsie - This one isn't even to clear my name, or make it look like I'm a good guy. Its not meant to change her view of me, or anyones for that matter. Its mostly so she can have some sense of relief in knowing that whatever nightmare she thought she encountered, didn't happen. Its not much, it probably won't even phase her. But if by some off beat chance it helps, I want her to have it.
7. Set Up A Trust Fund - I am obviously not going to live forever. So when I die, I want House of Filth to close. Even if I have a child, this isn't the life I want for them. I don't want their lives touched by the blood of innocent people, or corrupted by the disgusting souls that enter this place. I want the money to go to my kids and/or the children of the outreach center. Money DOESN'T buy happiness, but it can buy a fresh start.
8. Coffee Shop - As much as I love the glittery lights of House of Filth, or the pitiful cries of the Dark Room, that isn't what I want forever. I want to own a coffee shop where I can roast beans on sight. Where each cup is made right then and there, with stupid little chairs in the corner, and hipsters filling the spaces. Not cause I like hipsters, but they bring in all their stupid friends and they know how to use social media to bring more of their stupid friends in, and well, money is money.
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11/28/2017 01:03 PM
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Sugar We're Going Down
I can't even count the years since I last stepped here, though I remember the date distinctively. Such a big ordeal, the high school lights and all that bullsh*t. Spirit week, I think that was what they kept calling it. A time to 'come together and celebrate'. God, I hated you. I hated everything about you. Your perfect f***ing hair. Your flawless complexion, but more than that, I just hated your voice. That high pitch whine while you shouted the schools name like we had all forgotten it.
Yeah, I remember this anniversary.
Years ago today, I became a monster. Not one that was recognized easily, I mean hell, Trent washed it away as if he were simply tossing a load into the washing machine. No, I became a monster that hid within the shadows. One that was undeniably hidden from the world, one that hid behind a charming smile and a sly tone in his voice. Thats what this anniversary marks. Sure sure, some might argue that the anniversary of your death is somewhat important, but your death gave birth to me. Gave birth to a creature that was cold, calculated and dark. Your blood created a Devil on Earth, so THAT is the anniversary we celebrate. That is what we will all remember. And that, is what will always rival your beating heart.
Because lets face it, the roar of the Devil, will always be louder than the crying sobs of angels.
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10/30/2017 10:37 PM
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The Man He Needs To Be - AC
I remember seeing him for the very first time when he came to pick up Evy. His eyes looked wild and reckless, like he would be nothing but trouble for her, but I was more than surprised. The man who was kind and looked like the boy next door was the one who did her so very wrong. One might say my judgement is slightly skewed but no longer. I learned quickly to not judge a book by its cover.
He removed her from the relationship that was no doubt going to get her killed. I remember the first time it happened, how she locked herself away in her room, and he just sat outside her door for two days straight, just talking to her through the keyhole until she finally felt safe enough to open it. The second time he beat her, Exodus was the first one she called; he literally carried her into the hospital room and refused to move from her side. But the third time, when she was pregnant, I remember watching him help her pack, wanting to get her and that unborn baby out of Vegas as quickly as possible.
I observed him with her; never intruding. He presented himself to the world as this unfeeling, cold-hearted ass, but as he sat there, talking to my Evy, trying to calm her down, to comfort her, I came get an idea of the real Exodus. He never opened up to me. I don't think that's possible for him; I know his childhood was anything but idyllic. The way he reacted to the abuse that Evy was enduring let me know that he too had been abused and that he wished someone had been there for him like he was for her. Once I made the mistake of resting my hand on his arm and he flinched. Those strange eyes of his met my own and it confirmed everything I thought. I apologized and didn't let it happen again. He didn't seem like a man who was used to someone apologizing to him.
I admit, I thought he was in love with her. But it wasn't that. He cared for her, tried to do right by her, but I quickly learned that though he did love her, it was never in the ways that I had thought. I watched him breakdown on a Thanksgiving one year, an absolute mess of a man, and my little Evy ran to his side. She spoke to him softly and word by word calmed him down. It wasn't a love he felt for her, it was his own sanity. I respected him even more than I already did on the day he took her away. I resented him a little for thinking that he could keep her safer than we could, but three different beatings showed me that I wasn't nearly the protector that she needed.
Today I watched him mourn her. Through my own tears, I watched him. Like all the times before when she was hurt, he sat beside her. Though this time it wasn't her bedroom door, it was the door to the morgue, then the seat beside her coffin, and then the dirt that covered her grave. Even though she's gone, I know she'll live on in his heart. The heart that the world is certain that he doesn't have. It's ironic; the man who people think is heartless has the biggest heart of all.
I see a man who is nothing less than loyal to someone he loves. I can feel the guilt that he carries in his heart. He blames himself, when in reality he gave her everything and more. He gave my daughter a life. He gave her a chance; he gave her strength. Because of him, she had her son, a life, and a chance to be happy. Those are things I couldn't give her and I will carry that always. But I see him as a hero, as someone who loved another deeply, and will carry her memory on long after she's gone.
Tonight, I watched him sit beside the crib of Evy's sleeping son. His hand settled through the little bars that kept the boy safe, only to whisper out his apology to a child that is far too young to understand. I heard him ask for forgiveness, and then I saw him cry. Silent sobs against his knees, like a dam that was suddenly overflowing. In him I see the man I want my grandson to grow up to be. Strong. Loyal. And Kind.
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[ This blog post is viewable to friends only ]
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10/03/2017 01:25 PM
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He Wasn't A Nobody - AC
I thought the moment that I touched Risse that I was going to feel instant relief. Like the world was going to suddenly shine and all the bullsh*t in Trent's house was going to wash itself away from me.
It didn't...
I forgot how low her body temp was and how at times it was hard to feel a heartbeat. Sometimes when I hold her close, I feel /him/. I feel the way the heat left his body as the blood drained out of him. I feel the way the last breath fell from his lips against my nape as I held him close. It haunts me. For a moments I wish I had just left him there and walked out without thinking to remove him. I wish that I had never had that moment where I thought about allowing someone to be my friend.
I wish for so many things.
I wish it had been me.
I deserved it. More than anyone in that house, it was me that deserved it. I take lives every day. Rip away innocent futures for a few bills of cash. Hell, in the house I didn't even play the whole 'spill your secret' game, I laid low, founds means of survival, and when the time came, I ended up eating Dre. No one in that house deserved death more than I did.
I can't close my eyes. Every single time I do, I see him. I see Santiago look up and the bullet shatter his skull. I've seen hundreds of people die. I've seen people gutted and tortured, but that moment, it haunts me. I think about whether or not I could have moved fast enough to knock Trent over. I wonder if I could have moved fast enough to take the bullet myself. And I stay up late wondering, what did Santiago do that made him worthy to die?
I don't even think the loss of food made a difference to me. I hardly eat to begin with. And as sick as it sounds that little meal of Dre seemed to keep me stable.
I realized one thing though, I hate this town more than ever. His body fell, and blood pooled, but all anyone cared about was getting out of that f***ing door. No one checked to see if there was a chance that he survived. That maybe just maybe Trent's gun was bent, that maybe the bullet had just skimmed through sh*t that didn't matter, I mean I've read freak news stories where that has happened. No one even thought twice about him. They just picked up and left. This was a man that was their friend, and they walked over him like he was nothing.
I realize that his blood, will be their suffering. I know now that no one in this town is even close to being safe anymore. Because if they can all treat someone so kind hearted as him, like he was a nobody, then I can do the same to them. They all signed a death wish that night, their signatures written in his blood.
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09/24/2017 05:18 PM
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The Better To Eat You With - AC
First off, F*** You Trent. I shouldn't even be in here.
I can feel my mind starting to shut down. I feel like the walls are caving in and the sanity, what is even left of my own is starting to fade. I looked at Elsie today and actually thought she looked attractive. It was probably because she was beat up looking and something about seeing her mixed with blood reminded me of House of Filth. It reminded me of home. And that next of blonde hair, it reminded me of my Risse. I thought about snatching out a handful of it, just so I could rest it beside my face at night and make believe that I was holding my love.
But then I remembered how much I f***ing hate Elsie. I would have thrown up but there isn't much I could manage. What little water I had left from the night we got locked in here finished earlier today. Hell, I even checked the toliet tank to see if they had been stupid enough to forget to empty it out. They weren't, and that only angered me further. I don't want to play into this stupid secrets game. I know the plan, I know that its just meant to make everyone turn on each other but no one seems smart enough to see it. If we all kill one another, if we all break bonds with one another, then who does that favor? Oh yeah, Trent. I swear I feel like I am the only one with a brain in here.
I think I see a spider....
F***, it was a spider and I ate it. It crunched and the legs got stuck in my teeth, but something about the guts moistened my tongue just enough to make the next few moments somewhat bearable. Hell, now I want another. Maybe something a little plumper. I wonder if I start ripping away at the floorboards if I will be able to find something else. Maybe a roach? Those have to be juicy right? I mean when you step on them they get all gooey.
Okay.. okay I tried and that didn't work. I ended up cutting my fingers trying to pull up a few floor boards. I have to admit, blood, even though its my own is starting to taste good. It makes me feel alive? But now I am wondering what everyone else tastes like. I've been stuck in a room with Ayden and Cora for days now. They seem like they're losing it. And honestly, I wonder how easy it would be to slit either of their throats. I mean, he is the reason we're in there, and lets be honest, as much as she might love him, I'm sure she'd heal from her loss quickly.
God damn it, now they are all screaming and yelling again. That's it. After all the nights I have stood away from this bullsh*t, tonight, I am going to face them all. If they want to whine and complain, lets see how they feel when I start spilling secrets.
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09/10/2017 11:48 PM
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Life on Repeat AC#3
-Wake up, and check phone. Save the times of the drop offs and the price of delivery. -Shower, hot water two notches away from being scalding. Argan oil shampoo, and extra conditioner. Towel off and Air Dry. -Naked breakfast in the kitchen. A smoothie, some herbalife mint n chip with a handful of spinach. -Finally dressed, casual attire, a single hand through hair. -Phone in pocket, wallet in hand, and a quick car ride to starbucks. -Double shot with light cream two pumps of classic with a half pump of mocha. -Quick stop at the park, only to toss in quarter to the fountain. Always one that has a three in it. Force of habit since his childhood. -Finally arriving at House of Filth. -Doors unlocked, mail collected and a quick meeting with security to brush up on the events of the night prior after the auctions were done. -A staff meeting, one that usually results in positive praise, perk bonuses and an overall boost of moral. Always finishing by reminding them that certain areas of the club are off limits. -Snack in the kitchen, a piece of cheese cut into a triangle, topped with peanut butter -Long walk down the hallway, security door opened with eye scan, only to head into office, door locked tight. Regular business tended to first. Payroll, etc. -Regular business done, not attention taken to the Dark Room. -Room inspected and cleared, chairs set up for auction as well as numbered paddles -New merchandise arrives and checked in, delivery service paid in full. -Merchandise checked for damage. Bruises, scars, stretch marks, etc. -Merchandise sectioned off by price range. Sorted by race, age, weight and overall beauty. -Invites to 'exclusive' members set out. One hour allowed for them to respond. -Lunch, steak sandwich with baked potato. -Final touches made in Dark Room, opens up for catering to set down service trays. -Finally allows clients to arrive, few moments of socializing before bringing in the merchandise. -Several rounds of auctions before collecting payment, and contracts being signed. -A walk through the front of house while clients tend to their merchandise in the dark room. -Another snack, usually peanut butter and celery -Return to Dark Room, have security check clients for souviners before allowing them to leave. -Sign off on the clean up crew, one last walk through House of Filth. -Quick drive home, one episode of The Simpsons, before crashing out into bed.
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08/24/2017 12:23 PM
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M-I-C-K-E-Y-M-O-U-S-E Activity Check #2
Sloane crushes you. It beats you down and eats you alive in a way that is usually best seen on low budget horror movies. It steals your soul, takes away that you live for. And from day one, I've always wanted to runaway and never look back. I did once, an adventure to Las Vegas, the mecca of sin and slums. But wouldn't you know it, it was just an upscale version of Sloane wrapped up in pretty lights and nearly nude women. It was like escaping, but staying all at the same time, minus Trent of course.
In the back of my head, I have always heard the theme playing. Soft, gentle. "M-I-C....K-E-Y.... M-O-U-S-E." It's cliche, so tragically boring that its almost embarrassing to say, but if I could go anywhere, it would be to Disneyland. I can fell those mouse ears perched on top of my head, and that material that is so scratching and irritating that I want to yank the damn things off, but I keep them on, only because I want to be like the rest of them. I want to be normal, I want to pretend all the bad stuff in my life had never happened. I want to buy a bowl of dole whip and eat it as I strut down mainstreet and look into the windows of the shops and tell myself that I am going to buy stupid reminders of this trip. A shot glass that has my name, or some ridiculous stuffed version of Eeyore that I will likely loose in my closet or under my bed.
Its the rides that I would be most excited for. The ability to close my eyes on the Dumbo ride and spread my arms out so that I can fly too. It's childish for a groan man to think of such things, stupid to believe that any of them could even happen, but its such a stark difference from my life in Sloane that I can't help but crave it. I know without a doubt my favorite ride would end up being the Haunted Mansion, it would be a place where I could get my 'dark' fix without having to wonder about all the technicalities of hiding a body, or getting blood stains off the tile.
More than that, I want to dance with Cinderella. She was oddly my favorite. Something about the way that she was able to make the animals love her, and how she fought back against the hardships of family. I'd take her and I'd hold her close, and ask her if I'd be allowed to stay. Because that's the one thing we all crave when we dream of running from Sloane. We all dream of a place to be safe. We all hope for a place away from Trent. And in our minds and our hearts, we all wish for a Happily Ever After.
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08/15/2017 02:34 PM
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My Darling Grace (AC #1)
My Darling Grace,
I find myself writing this letter over and over again in my head. I wonder what you'd be like. If you'd of grown up to be a beautiful little girl with sunshine and rainbows in her eyes, or if you'd be so filled with darkness that I'd be unable to tell you apart from the night sky. I wonder if you're somewhere in the Heaven's giggling and jumping around on fluffy clouds, or if you're ripping away at burning flesh as the heat from Hell scores your body and wraps you in its deadly blanket. My thoughts seem too much, you were only a baby, days old, probably not even old enough to realize the world around you. I even wonder if you'd ever recognize my voice.
Your mother, she was troubled from the start. Her views on what was right and wrong was tainted, muddled by the idea that love could conquer anything, even when it came to loving me. I was her son. I was her little boy. I was her lover. Your father. Her murder. Your killer. Wow, I never thought I'd be putting it all out there like that. I never thought that there would come a day that I'd ever write these words or put much thought into them. I thought that maybe I'd feel guilt or remorse, but I don't feel a thing. Nothing pains me about it. Nothing makes me want to undo what I did. If anything, it makes me feel like what I did was right, that what I did had to happen.
I remember it clearly. You were in her arms, cooing and wiggling around, a happy child, but I could see it in your eyes. I saw the way that your eyes hit the light, and I saw this glimmer that matched her own. Darkness, that is the only way I will ever be able to describe it. It was like coming face to face with the Devil and I knew in that moment what you'd grow up to be. I killed her first, a knife to her throat, and the blood just splattered against you, but you didn't cry. No, you cooed even louder than before, tiny hands outstretched as if you were delighted to be such a mess. I held you for all of five minutes before I set you in the river. It was like some sort of twisted baptism that freed you from the world, rather than sin. I watched the air bubble up from your lips and your cries gurgle forward. For a moment, I reached in, not to save, but to help you cross into death. Two large rocks pushed down your diaper, giving you that extra bit of weight to hold you down so you could catch the current. I watched it drag you, your tiny skull cracking against the ragged riverbanks and that beautiful sheen of crimson colored the water.
And to this day, I think of you. I wonder what you are, and what you could have been. Perhaps this will always go down as the worst thing that I have ever done, well, at least for now.
Your Father,
Exodus
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