Saturday, 9 July 2011

-Spencer- "When you don't have a plan..."

"It's impossible to know whether your idea is good, bad, or average. Everything just dissolves into chaos and you're left hoping for the best."

... I think I read that somewhere.

It's quiet. Really quiet as I step into The East Wing, and I can almost hear a sigh of relief (from who?) and a bit of a groan (from what?) and then the headache starts and....

Focus, Spencer, focus. Maybe tell a story? God knows you probably won't post this anyway, but you've got to let your mind wander to navigate this, come on, stop thinking....

Once upon a time, in a little town in god knows where, USA, there was this kid who was born. Like every other day, minute, and hour, another little buggered popped out and gave the world a bid hello.
However, you could see that his parents exchanged a look of something awful when it finally happened.
The kid started to grow up. Was home schooled, didn't have any friends, not that it mattered to him much. Was smart. Too smart for his own good, probably. He always noticed something was up; something that was only discussed in harsh whispers and dark corners and that was probably the reason everyone looked at the trees so reverently and with so much...


And he grew older, eventually a decade old, and finally he started to notice where his parents were constantly going to and what all those dark meetings were about. And he was fascinated.

So it goes.

And he found solace in those harsh whispers, because maybe then everyone wouldn't look at him with those dead eyes like he was only second rate, only good for something he didn't understand.

It was the night before his fifteen birthday that everything went wrong. He was ready, ready for what he had been told he had to do, ready to become a part of the people with dead eyes, and he was very, very, afraid.

he was told it would hurt
it would hurt
it still does hurt sometimes

and he stood on the edge of the forest and saw it
and saw It
And he could only stare
this was their god?
something had gone, terribly, terribly wrong
and as soon as the first ray of light hit the treetops he had started to plan
robbed the cult who had deceived him blind
and ran
and ran
and ran
and then they gave him a-

Ohey, look, found 'em! Amanda, Steele, Doc, dear god you look like shit. But they're alive, folks, that's the good news. Alright, kids, let's get you out of here. Fuck, Steele is heavy. stick close, yeah?
(The girls are going to kill me for this later.)


They wouldn't have lasted for much longer.


  1. Thank GOD.

    Get back to the kitchen. Todd, Sam and I made food.

    And Spence...

    I'm not going to ask.

  2. "However, you could see that his parents exchanged a look of something awful when it finally happened."
    I see what you did there, but do you?

  3. ...
    If I had any idea of who you were, I'd be THIIIIS close to ripping you a new one.

  4. ...Something Awful.

    What would a look of something awful even look like? Probably trollish. xD

  5. ..... Not even going to justify this with a response-
    I need a drink. I fucking /need/ a drink.