Hehe. Hey. Long time no see.
I had a lot going on and I know that it's no excuse, but I'm not giving up on this story.
One does not simply give up on one's brainchild.
For a long time, I just sit on that couch, watching Stryker to make sure he doesn't fade completely and wondering what my next step is.
Eventually, though, I realize what a mess I am and decide to clean myself up.
I poke my head through a bunch of doors to find a bathroom, knowing that it's probably in my best interest to not dwell on the fact that this is not my house, nor is it the house of anyone else I know.
Darn it, Stryker. I shake my head a little to myself, my lips twitching up ever so slightly at the corners. The boy was hopeless.
I find a shower and turn the faucet. While I wait for the rust to run out of the slowly heating water, I find a big sweatshirt and some only slightly baggy pants in the room of a boy that seemed to be a few years younger than I was.
I'm in and out as fast as I can be with all of the strange residue that comes with being unconscious and not knowing where you've been that lingers on my skin.
It's really kind of scary, but it helps not to think about it.
Not that that's much of an option, but I trust Stryker to have taken the best care of me he could.
After I'm dressed, I try my hardest to twist my wet mass of hair up into something that'll keep it out of the way for now.
I catch my reflection as I slowly secure the tie.
My face has changed in the mirror since the last time I remembered seeing it. It looks older, different.
I don't like it.
My stomach rumbles uncomfortably, but I ignore it, rubbing my temples gently and finding my way back through the hallways.
Stryker has already slipped into the phase of the poison that just keeps him as still as a corpse. I shiver and throw a blanket over him, ignoring the thermostat above the door. It's too risky.
I find some socks and yank those on rather than letting the floor freeze my toes off and pad across the floor to the kitchen.
Everything in the pantry is either expired or disgusting. Groaning, I decide on an unopened can of soup and hope it'll be enough to tide me over until I figure out a way to get us moving to God knows where again.
Adding a little water to thin it out, I stick it in the microwave and wait for its time to be up. It's only afterwards, when I'm devouring my find, that I quite realize what I've done.
Using the microwave is bound to show up on some electricity report, not to mention the lights I'd turned on and the water I'd used. It was only a matter of time before that showed up on a bill.
Cursing under my breath, I flip off all of the lights and promise myself that, no matter how safe I feel, I'd find a way to get us out first thing in the morning.
Until then, it really couldn't hurt to spend the night in an actual bed. I arch my back uncomfortably.
Yeah, a bed would be nice.
Finding the one bed that wasn't too big or small, I settle in for the night and close my eyes, waiting for sleep to come.
I know it kind of sucked and it was a filler, but the next one will be out soon and just praise me anyway. It makes life more fun for everybody.
-Dictatorship