It took a while, but I've got a new computer up and running, because when we found mine it was a small puddly of melted metal outside the shack we've been living in. It's not all that disconcerting. Just a computer, right? It's weird because I feel like it should bother me more, but it doesn't.
You know, I never gave a lot of thought to what I wanted out of life. I think. I wanted to kill myself, but was too scared to try it. Maybe I wanted an easy sort of out. That might explain the heroin.
Now here I am, with an end in sight, a painful and gruesome one most likely and I don't know. It just feels like freedom. No more pretense, no more uncertainty, and hey something to work towards that feels, I don't know, worth something?
Maybe that's why I've stuck with Annalee this long. She makes me feel worth something.
She's been pretty out of it since we were kidnapped. They did something to her in there.
I can't remember a lot. I remember staying up with her trying to persuade her to get some rest, and then suddenly a smoke bomb came through the window and people were flooding in. After that, it's just a lot of white rooms and being kept high as a kite. Lots of surgeries I think. Judging by the scars on my stomach, I think they probably stole my appendix or something. Annalee's already talking about trying to get an X-ray, but we'd need to travel for that and right now, so long as I'm not immediately dying, I think we're focusing on breathing.
...I feel calmer than I did before. Not better, particularly, or happier, just more relaxed. It might be the drugs they had me on, but those would've worn off by now wouldn't they have? I think some of it might be Beau, since he's just that kind of person. He's been helping us get around since we've both been pretty wrecked. Which, oh shit, yeah, you guys have no clue who he is. Bastard gave me the impression he was a figment of my imagination, but nope he's just a run of the mil runner with a banjo. He's also kind of an asshole, but he's been making us breakfast so I don't have a lot of room to complain.
Apparently he and Annalee are old flames, (his words not mine,) which is just...I don't know weird. She doesn't act much like she likes him, she's barely said a word to him since he saved us from that lab, and he's been friendlier with me than her. It's like there's a giant Elephant made of ice in whenever the two of them are in a room together, and ughh, I don't know. The less I have to think about Annalee, the human embodiment of a catcus, and Beau, the hobo with no shirt, doing it, the better off I think I'll be. It's like trying to picture your parents having sex, and don't read too much into that statement please.
Beau's been great though. He's a good guy. Happy as a clam and a good listener, and he makes a mean scrambled egg, which is a pretty big feet when the only eggs available are like, rattlesnake eggs. After so long with Annalee, it just feels better to have someone in the shack who isn't so high strung. Maybe that's why Annalee doesn't like him, she likes it when things are stressful and tense. That's when she's relaxed.
She's been all but pacing a large comedic hole into the floor since we've got back, been looking over files she stole from Legion.
She won't let anyone read them, but I do know who's files she's got.
The names I've managed to get a look at are these.
A. Cardinal, B. Roland, J. Valdi, O. Jones, D. Cypress, E. Logan, P. Summers, J. Gregorio, M. McLaughlin and R. Trent.
She's keeping them in a safe, so I have no clue what's in mine. I think she's being careful about what get's said and what doesn't.
We'll be able to check in on you guys more, now that we have a computer again and shits starting to get pulled together.
I think stuff if going to be all right for now. I still need to figure out what those letters about me were, because I'm not sure...One mystery at a time, right?