Friday, May 20, 2011


I am thinking about leaving. I am thinking about it constantly. It seems so simple of a thing to do now. The thing is, Grey almost did me a favor. He's burned so many bridges of mine, that I have little choice now but to either sink here or swim far away. I don't have school to worry about. I don't have any attachments anymore. And seriously, what friends? I have nothing keeping me here.

But every time I picture myself stepping out that door I see what can happen if I'm not here to protect my brothers and sister. What pushed Peter into making his decision? And do I need to make the same decision, or do I... what the hell do I do.

No one's here to tell me what to do. I'm the only one to make any sort of decision. I wish someone could help me. Anyone. I wish my dad would swoop in and save us. I wish the state would send in all the social workers and whisk us away to foster care. I wish my mother would change.

But none of that is going to happen so I have to make a decision.

Saturday, May 7, 2011


I sat on the roof of my house and looked out at the creek behind the houses behind our house. It gleamed as the sun set itself down behind it. Everything, for once, seemed so tranquil and peaceful and... nice. Goddamn nice. So nice, holy shit. I felt...

I didn't feel happy. But I did feel the weight let up. I felt cool, too. Like this was the closing credits of some stupid teen movie. Maybe, maybe once the bombastic ending song would flare on, and it would cut to a picture of me as a successful adult with a family or something corny like that. I would be smiling at the camera, and my children would be all around me, and I'd have an arm around my future wife's waist, and everyone would be so goddamn happy.

But that isn't true, I told myself. That isn't the true ending. No, this isn't a John Hughes movie. This isn't Harry Potter, where after untold adversity, happiness is born. Life isn't that simple. Life isn't that clean cut. Life isn't like that. Life is goddamn hard.

And everything with Peter isn't over yet. I couldn't forget that. He could be dead. And I knew that I could be next. Anything could happen.

I fell asleep and took a short nap on the roof as the summer heat descended upon me.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011


I received one last memento from Peter. He left a package on the doorstep for me. I opened it and discovered a Halloween skeleton mask, and a letter. The letter said Sowing Season had one final component to it; the transference of the negative energy into a physical object.

Grey is inside of this mask. Peter said he didn't tell me at first because it's a lot of responsibility, and that he was searching for a way to safely destroy the object without letting the negative energy, Grey, leak out into the world. Now that he can't, he's entrusted Grey with me, and said that as long as I keep the mask safe, and yet at a manageable distance, everything will be fine.

I'm keeping the mask hidden away.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Pocketwatch (Final)

We were inside Peter's motel room. Peter was explaining something about Sowing Season when the door burst open. A bearded, hulking man ran into the room. Peter grabbed his handgun off the nightstand beside the bed, but it was too late; the man punched Peter away from the nightstand. Then, he turned to me, and I closed my eyes as the man punched my lights out.

When I came to, I felt blood trickle down from my forehead. I clasped my head and looked around. The entire room was a mess. Peter picked himself up off of the floor and turned to me. His eyes widened, and he felt his pockets.

"It's gone. He took it. Goddamn it."

I knew what he meant immediately. The pocketwatch was gone and that man took it.

Peter grabbed all of his things and ran out to the car. I got up and followed behind him. He jumped in and began to bark orders at me as I got in.

"Listen: this is about to get dangerous. I don't want to scare you, but they are. Hold on. Stay down."

He started the car, backed out, and sped out of the parking lot.

"How do you know where he took the watch?"

"I don't. I do know the truck he was in. I saw him earlier today. He was tracking me down. I can't believe it. Now, think, think, think... what would he want with the wa-"

The car stopped. The door opened. Peter's pulled out of the car by some invisible force. He's slammed down against the pavement.

A crazed man with light hair and a torn labcoat appeared in front of the car. He began to talk to Peter. I got up from my seat and opened the car door, disregarding Peter's earlier advice. The man smiled and pointed a finger to me. I felt my skin run cold as I was lifted off the ground and pulled towards this man. I screamed aloud, and looked around, hoping someone would see the situation.

But everything around us seemed to be perpetually frozen. I screamed again. The man stopped smiling and smashed me against the front of the car. I felt faint.

"-look at your sidekick, Rivers. Why won't you save him?"

Peter yelled at the man to stop. I felt the "grip" on me vanish. The man approached Peter and whispered into his ear.  He then disappeared into thin air.

Peter came over to me and picked me up. He carried me to the backseat and put me down inside. He drove away. He didn't say anything. He stopped in front of my house, and luckily, my mother was not home. He helped me stagger into my house.

He took me to my room. I crawled onto my bed. I faced him. He looked broken. I felt broken too.

"What's happening, Peter?"

"I don't know yet."

"What did that man say to you?"

"He gave me a location. I will be heading there as soon as possible."

"Can I come with you?"

Peter seemed torn over answering that.

"...No. It's far too dangerous for you; for anyone. There's no way you can go. I'm sorry. This is probably goodbye for now." 

"That kind of sucks."

"Indeed. But hopefully, it isn't a goodbye set in stone. Perhaps, I will come back. But for now... you need to take care of yourself. Don't be reckless as I have been. I see now that maybe I shouldn't of been encouraging you to take control of your life in a reckless way. Perhaps... you can attain a normal life. Who knows? You're only 16. Things will get better. Trust me."

His voice cracked a little at the end.

I felt like I was losing some part of me as he walked out of my room.

Fight (or) Flight

I've been hanging around with Peter a lot for the past two days. Mostly in an effort to get away from my mother. She's flaring up again and I've needed to get away.

He's explained a lot of things to me, especially about the government organization he used to be a part of. He calls them the Lonely Hearts, and has explained that they are quite dangerous. They have entrenched themselves in every single facet of the government. There is nothing that goes untouched by them. As he talks about their actions, the more... afraid I have become of them. Especially when he's told me about some of their most recent actions.

It makes me feel like I'm a small fish in a huge ocean.

He's warned me that he'll have to leave eventually. That when he leaves, I probably won't ever be able to contact him again. Or, or... I could go with him.

He said it'd be dangerous. But he would protect me, and he would show me the ropes of what it means to fight the Fears. He says it would give me a purpose, something to fight for.

He says that I can use my experience to help others.

I don't know what to think yet. It's all overbearing. What the fuck could I offer anyway? I'm nothing special. I would have disappeared if Peter didn't

But on the other hand, I do want to help. But ... but above that, I want to run away. Is that bad? That I want to run away? That I want to say goodbye to my mother and this life and fight against creatures that will most likely rip me apart eventually?

Peter says there's something coming. Something is going to give, and the Fears are going to rise. He doesn't explain how he knows these things. But I can feel something changing too. In Portsmouth. In the world. In the actual Fear Mythos. No one's posted anything in a month. No one replies to my PM's. I think they're dealing with the Fears too.

If it's true that I've altered reality through the creation of the Fear Mythos, then I need to help. I have to fight. I must do my part... right?