-August- Sweet Little Augustine

Overall, I think it went quite well.


I suppose if you can dismiss the fact that we lost the van, were nearly killed, and had to walk ten miles to find a dealership that would be willing to sell three people with five days' worth of luggage on our backs and in our hands whatever car we pleased, no questions asked.

I think paying in cash helped.

We got back not too long ago, actually, and believe me when I say I have never been so glad to see the House. Sure, the floors weren't exactly spotless anymore and there were a massive pile of dishes in the sink (we bought a dishwasher, you know!) that needed cleaning, but there really isn't any place like home. Though I admit I'm a little upset I won't be able to stay long enough to get down to business; I've got another short delivery to do once I unpack and wash up. The usual, really; another dying lunatic's journal to be delivered to an online friend before his days are up. They're always so sad. I take it upon myself to do these deliveries because I like to think I'm able to comfort them in their last few days, not to mention the fact that I've always found it funny how people seem to just know their time is up. I've met some people who have predicted their deaths down to the minute and the location of the wound that killed them, though I have to say I've never really stuck around to find out if they were right. Still, you hear it on the local radio or sometimes the news; unknown man found dead, thought to be homicide, more information on the hour.

... Jesus, I'm feeling morbid tonight.

Let's end this on a light note, then. We ended up getting a 1991 Firebird from the dealership just outside the city. The salesman was a balding 40-something in a rented tuxedo and oozed slime like our van oozed oil, and immediately approached us asking what 'the lovely couple' were looking for.

The lovely couple in this situation being, naturally, Doc and Steele.

We weren't sure what to make of it, either.

Once we managed to get the giggling under control (I was 'their perfect, darling daughter Augustine' - haha. I would have been upset, but the fact is he bought it completely) Doc and Steele decided to see just how far they could lead this guy on, mentioning they were coming up from their wedding in New Orleans and needed a new car, because Doc's (apparently now named Veronica) uncle had gone a little overboard with the champagne and trashed their previous car, as well as the rented limo. They had spent most of their money paying for damages and insurance and needed a cheap car, quick, so they could get back to work. Not a complete lie.

He ended up selling us the Firebird for half price. Steele says he has plans to convert it into the Knight Rider or something - I don't know my 80s TV shows very well, but by the description he gave me, it's going to look fantastic when it's finished. It's not a simple paint job like the Mystery Machine was but hey, we've got nothing but money and free time.

( For now, anyway. )

See you soon, everybody. Stay safe.

-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...

fear

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

Him

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.