Disclaimer: I don't own The Rocky Horror Picture Show

A/N: This is turning into a much longer story than originally intended. I hope it still makes sense. And that it's in character.

Friday, ?/?/1974 (in the evening)

Dear Diary,

So… I've been looking back on other entries and I realize that it's probably not March anymore. It's been March for nearly three weeks. And I don't think I learned it was March in the first week of March.

Wow, that was irrelevant.

And a waste of paper! Today has been insanely eventful and full of general weirdness. Though I guess that's pretty normal these days. Unfortunately for me, all that takes up paper. Soon enough I'll need to buy another journal. Well, not too soon. But if all this keeps going I'll be buying another book to write in, in at least another month or so!

AHH! I'm using up space by saying all that!

I'll start pretty much where I left off… as I finished my last entry; we all got in the van. Then, we drove down the empty highway. The lack of visible civilization was almost eerie.

Thankfully, we soon came across a town.

It looked pretty much like Denton. A little downtown area, rows of identical little houses, snobby conservative bastards everywhere…

Anyway, we found a little café in the downtown area pretty quickly. Mr. Bradshaw apparently keeps a lot of random supplies in his van. That, of course, includes quite a bit of money. It's like that storage-chest-thingy is bigger on the inside, I swear.

For breakfast we all ate various pastries. Mostly those lovely chocolate croissants (plus a few of a more plain, bland persuasion).

After that we bought some things at the town's supermarket. We really did need nonperishable foods for our so-called 'adventure'. This supposedly wide category mainly consisted of canned soup, crackers, and the most peculiar salmon jerky. Mr. Bradshaw claimed to have a portable stove of some kind. Judging by all the random things in his van, this was true.

Then, we went to the laundry mat. At first I wasn't really sure why. Soon enough, however, I learned the rather criminal reason. You see, Mr. Bradshaw has a talent for talking people into things. And it hardly took any effort to convince the girl supervising the place that very many items of clothing there belonged to us.

It was at this point I realized that I still wore dull gray pajamas and a somewhat tattered dressing gown. Though I soon changed into one of the outfits we'd acquired. Though a bit plain, the knee-length bright pink skirt looked nice enough. And the glittery t-shirt fitted me well enough.

Maybe people in boring conservative towns actually aren't boring. Well, some of them. Going by the clothes we stole, few of them aren't boring.

Only now does it occur to me that we're running from aliens and the law at this point.

Oh well…

After that, we quietly left that town. We didn't want the police to find out about the stolen clothes while we were still there.

Now that I think about it, I've never done anything illegal. Except drink underage. But that wasn't too bad, since I didn't really do that as much as the bands themselves. Plus, I never got addicted o any of it. And the drugs don't count, since they're legal on the planet Transsexual, of the galaxy Transylvania. I only ever did drugs at the castle. Since the castle is, technically speaking, part of that planet (it belongs to their government) it wasn't illegal. It's like how embassies are part of the country they technically belong to.

Anyway… after we left that town, we drove for ages and ages. We were in the middle of nowhere when Mr. Bradshaw stopped the van.

"Why stop here? In the middle of nowhere?" I asked.

"Haven't you been listening to anything we've said?" Martin/Winslow replied, rather bitter for some reason.

Eddie/Lucas sighed dramatically. "We aren't going to stay in any town for a while. They'll find us to easily. So, we'll sleep in the van."

"There's enough room," Mr. Bradshaw added with a lighthearted laugh.

"Not that much room," I muttered under my breath.

Luckily, Mr. Bradshaw had somehow altered the interior of the bizarre van so that all the seats except the driver's could be removed. Though I had a feeling that they couldn't be put back in later.

Not that it mattered. We left the car's seats where we'd parked and drove away. The place we ended up really stopping at was equally remote. Not the slightest proof of civilization in sight. The forest that happened to be right next to the road only made it all even more eerie.

"It's alright," Eddie whispered as we stood next to the car.

Everyone was too nervous to be hungry, so we weren't going to eat dinner. We stood outside the van so that Mr. Bradshaw could set up our beds and everything.

As Eddie, Martin/Winslow, and I stood there we didn't speak. I guess it was out of nervousness. Yet silence seemed to make matters worse!

"So…" I said. "I hope we all don't ave to sleep, er, too near each other."

Martin/Winslow gave me a look of confusion. "What?"

When I'm nervous I say weird stuff. Um, sorry," I replied.

"Why not? Why don't you want to sleep near anyone else?" Eddie asked.

"Well, it's just awkward. I guess I just don't want to sleep too near Winslow- no offence; it's just that I'm dating Eddie and everything. And, for once, I'm trying out a proper relationship," I explained, rolling my eyes.

Again, Winslow/Martin looked confused. "What do you mean 'proper relationship'?"

"Relationship in which both people actually care about each other. Where I'm not just a pretty face and a 'screw-buddy' for five or so guys. No more drowning my sorrows in the twisted world of Sex, Drugs, and Rock n' Roll. Something I've never had before." By then, I was crying.

Pathetic.

"Ah. So you were a groupie." Suddenly, Martin/Winslow had no respect for me.

Thankfully, that was when Mr. Bradshaw came to fetch us. Our beds were ready for us.

"If you kids don't want dinner, we can all just get dressed now," he said cheerfully.

"Fine," I muttered.

The three of us followed Mr. Bradshaw into the van. Luckily, the three makeshift beds in the back of the van weren't too near each other. Mr. Bradshaw's bed was by the front seat.

It reminded me of the time I'd gone camping with my older sister Agnes. I was just a kid then. Only in middle school or something.

Of course, it had just been the two of us. And, at age, 12, I was weirded out by getting dressed in front of other people. How innocent I was in those days!

Between being a groupie for egotistical rock bands with no sense of personal space and living at the camera-filled castle, I've sort of given up on modesty. Yet I really didn't like the way Winslow looked at me when I changed into stolen pajamas. Mr. Bradshaw was outside at that point and Eddie looked away. But that creep named Winslow/Martin just stared at me. I think he was doing that on purpose, to scare me.

How can Eddie be a friend to a guy like that?

Anyway, I'm in my sleeping bag right now. Writing this by flashlight.

These beds are mad of sleeping bags with extra blankets and a pillow for each of us. It's all very organized. Everything seems perfectly planned out.

I wonder why Mr. Bradshaw had all this stuff prepared. Was he planning to run away or something? He can't have known that the old Queen planned to send people after us. And how would he even know about her, or De Lordy? Something tells me that he's packed up the car for a different reason. And that's he's been preparing for some sort of trip for a long, long time.

But why?

Hopefully I'll found out tomorrow.

- Columbia (a groupie)/Sally Ross

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