Cage of Twigs
(for a Faded Song Bird)
A Vampire: The Masquerade Bloodlines Fan Fiction
Part Two
7/11/95
I can already tell that this is gonna be a really long entry. Brace yourself. At the moment I'm stopped at the parking lot of a Burger King. I got a chicken sandwich, so they can't come out here and hammer me about loitering. Let's review yesterday. After the early morning guilt trip, Kitty and me had a really nice breakfast out of the house. Why we never did it more? I don't know. Kitty's always hanging out with her "friends" and I'm always out at the park, sketching and stuff. Anything to get out of the house. Sometimes Kitty would want me to come with her, but I would always decline. I can't stand those people she hangs out with. Druggies with no future or care for anything except that little temporary buzz. Kitty isn't as hooked as most of them. Myself, I'm hooked on smoking and drinking, conventional killers, yeah? She also hopes for a future as some sort of a writer. Once we said that maybe one day we'd do a comic. She'd do the writing and I'd do the drawing. Never got around to it. Anyways, after our breakfast, we just sat, talking about nothing. Better than listening to Steve's drunken snores (yeah, he's been staying over since Wednesday). Once again, Kitty's intuition creeps me out, enough to make me think she might have found the acceptance letter or something, even though I hid that in a copy of Alice in Wonderland. Kitty hates that book for who knows what reason. After all, she is a druggie. I thought that was like, the druggie's bible. Well, after awhile Kitty says "Hey, you doing anything today?" Well, I finished all my packing last night, so I truthfully said no. "Wanna hang out? We hardly do anything together anymore." For the first time, I really realized that we might never get this chance again (at least for a few years). Sure, I said. We went home first to get our bags of quarters, then we hit the arcade. I can still whoop her at House of the Dead. It was really nice. We traded our tickets for these two little stuffed animal cats. Kitty named hers' Kurt (hard to believe it's been a whole year since Kurt Cobain's death), I named mine Mr. Sullivan. We used to hang out in arcades all the time when we were kids. I tried not to think that today was the last time in a long time I'd ever see Kitty. It was like old times. After a few hours, we just decided to drive around a bit. So we're just cruising around, a cig in one hand, steering with the other, a King's X cd crooning in the background. It's like she knew it was my last night in Sacramento too. Sometime past midnight, we drove grudgingly home. No one cared about us being gone all day and most of the night (no surprise). We say goodnight to each other. I tell her I'm not sleepy at all. I hug her again (major lapse today; we've hardly communicated for the past few years) and tell her I had a lot of fun today. She says she did too. I try really hard not to cry. When she went to her room I went to the fridge. Moving Steve's 6-packs aside, I grab an energy drink. I didn't know how far I'd get. I went back to my room and got my bags together. I couldn't take much. I left most things behind. No room, and it would be suspicious. I pack Mr. Sullivan neatly into one of my bags and sit down at my desk, waiting for Kitty to fall asleep. Mom and Steve already are. Doesn't take long. Kitty's always been a heavy sleeper, so I sneak into her room and deposit her letter next to her bed. I hoist up my things and pack them into my car. I tacked a note for mom near the door. So that's that I guess. I drove all night long, following my road map. So here I am, in the parking lot, writing about my last day with the only person I've ever really loved. I keep telling myself to stop thinking about it. Think about how lucky you are. Yeah, but I wish I could of told Mom and Kitty. Mom's mind is like, wired to the early 20th century though. Her mindset it basically that women are baby factories and serve no other purpose. As for Kitty.I don't think Kitty would understand. Well stop thinking of the past, Robin-gal, and look to the future! This is for you (for once)! You know, I think I've smoked 1 « packs since I left last night. Well, time to get back on the road.