6/22/17

Holy ****.

I stole my first car last night.

It was even more of a rush than shooting Zagan was.

Antonia said we were going dancing? it was one hell of a dance. I was drunk when I agreed. She told me coffee, head to toe black, and sober enough to drive. Then she left. I ended up getting sober with food, coffee, and physical activity. He went by Stitcher, drank strange things, and answered the door to get the pizza stark naked, grinning like a madman. We ate, chilled out a little more, then he left. Thirty minutes later I was showered, outside and dressed from head to toe in black just as instructed. Antonia rolled up exactly at two, driving her own sleek black vehicle with an engine that growled.

Highway, uncrowded nighttime road that yawned on for forever. We drove to some town outside the city. Parked outside, prowled on in. It didn?t take long for us to get where we were going, and when I saw the car, I just knew that was the one we were searching for. Sleek, bright cherry red, Ferrari. It was absolutely gorgeous. It wasn?t long before we got to work.

There is so much more to stealing a car than someone would realize. The fine tune you have to play to get the engine turned over and rolling, all that hesitance from the moment you pop the lock to the relief that floods when the engine turns and the car flares to life, and the rumble that follows. Antonia showed me how to do everything I needed to get it started. Which wires to cross, circumnavigating the alarm system so it doesn't trip and alert everyone around that hey, Something is amiss. Look at all the flashing lights and the car making all the noise. It was confusing at first. I had no idea what she was showing me, then it all kinda clicked, maybe it was the adrenaline.

The engine rolled, and we both hopped in the car, and took off. The engine purred and hummed, a fine machine. Once we got back to Antonia?s car she told me to get behind the wheel of the Ferrari and to keep up. I just kinda grinned. Then? That?s when the real fun started. It?s also been like forever since I?ve been behind the wheel of a car, and jesus, never something as nice as that one. Mmh. Antonia took off in a growl of churning gears and a cloud of exhaust, and I wasn?t far after. There was nothing stopping us on the way back to Rhy?din. Our cars flew over the highway asphalt, unhindered by lesser vehicles. It was exhilarating, fast, freeing. It was so freeing, oh my god, having the control of a beautiful machine like that, with the radio blaring and nothing but the song of happiness humming deep within me.

It was comforting, those fabulous moments last night where it was just me, the Ferrari and the asphalt beneath us. Believe it or not, those fast flying moments felt? I don?t know. They felt like home? I?m not positive, as I?ve never really felt at home anywhere, not even in my own skin, but there was something that just felt so?right about being behind the wheel as the world went by me in a blur of harmonious chaos. I could have driven all night and not looked back until the sun shook me from that beautiful reverie.

But alas, all fun must have some kind of an ending. Ours came when we found the familiar twists and turns of the Rhy?din streets, down dockside. It was there that I learned the other half of things that come with stealing cars; selling them. This one?s a little more tricky, because there are people involved, and people, especially people who buy stolen goods are normally untrustworthy?.. but then again, what does that say about the people that steal them? I watched, I was quiet as Antonia weaved words and worked out what seemed to be a rather decent little sum for the car. I made mental notes of the little things she did to work it in her favor.

Like having a glamour, but she doesn?t hum of such things, not that I am aware of.

And then when the time came for the guy to hand over the money, it was Antonia he offered it to, but? instead, with a simple nod he came and handed it to me. The envelope was fat, and filled with more money than I?ve ever seen. More than I have ever been able to call mine, even with everything I have managed to save up the past couple months. I even had to get a bigger jar.

After everything was said and done? we went back to Antonia?s for breakfast along with mimosas as we sat on her roof. We watched as the sunrise crept up on the city, warm and bright with golden warms and pinks. Then we crashed, and crashed hard. Slept in till late afternoon, and after? After we went shopping, and did girl stuff. Lunch, nails, little spa time.

I brought back a slew of lacy black things, summer clothes, and whole entire leather outfit for Siobhan, just because I ****ing love her, and she?s done so much for me, it?s the least I could do. She cooed like a little girl, and her face lit up. I also got the journal I am writing in right now. Even though I had more money than I ever had, Antonia still paid for everything with that little black card, insisted that I needed to save it.

And now, here I am, writing it all down so I never forget it, not that I think I will. Would I do something like this again? In a heartbeat. The rush, the freedom, the money that I could make, just by plucking something from someone who could go out and buy another toy in 2 seconds flat? Why not? The world has never given me anything good, except for Siobhan, and the good friends I have made here. If you want something, in the end you?re going to have to take it for yourself, and claw your way up the proverbial food chain until you find yourself on top.

I?m not even sure what Nick would say. Given, y?know, I?m technically a detective. Who looks into things like stolen cars, missing people, crimes the watch doesn?t make any effort investigating. I have to have a relatively decent image of sorts, right? But I can keep a secret. No one ever needs to know what happens under the cloak of the night time sky for me. It is my business, and my business alone.

Detective by day, criminal by night?

Why the hell not?

7/17/17

?.

A lot of **** went down the other night with Zagan?

I don?t want to admit it, but if Sain hadn?t shown up?. I wouldn?t be here writing now?

Probably.

I don?t want to write about it today.

I just want to sleep right now.

I skipped work on Friday, didn?t pick up any extra hours over the weekend, and I skipped today too. Monday. **** Mondays. **** if Nick ever knows. He?s a blob of oozing mass that I nudge out of my room in his tub when I sleep, and change, because it is kinda? weird.

Maybe? I?ll drag my sorry ass to work tomorrow. I should.

Can't let the business fail just because the boss is down and out, right?

7/29/17

I wonder how many others out there have felt the crushing controlling hand that is being considered someone?s property. How many have felt that terrifying fear that runs through their bodies like ice when they make a wrong move, or say the wrong thing, and the person that lays claim to all that they are simply gives them a look. That look that promises that repercussions are certain to follow at a later hour, away from the eyes of others. How many people have gotten pretty, and bowed to the whim of those that own them? Who walks on eggshells every day, praying that they aren?t crushed beneath their feet? How many faces in a crowd do I pass that have felt all of these things, and more? The pain of repercussions, of making a mistake, and praying to whatever heavens above that the person that holds their leash doesn?t find out.

How many people are like me? The ones that have managed to run, to break free, but are still haunted by their masters who wish to bring them back. Have they managed to stay free? To cause their master?s death, or find some way to break away from them completely? How many of them have managed to end up right back to where they were, trapped in an endless cycle of being pretty, behaving, and succumbing to whatever fantasies their masters have?

That is what I am terrified of. Of falling victim to Zagan?s control again. I can?t go back to the terrified creature I was. The terrified creature I was two weeks ago, when Zagan ruled over me with the power of my name. When he made me kneel against my will and accept the collar of glittering jewels and gold he had for me. When he started beating me as repercussions for everything that has transpired since I ran from him. When it came to the point that all I knew was the taste of my own blood, and a constant wave of pain that never subsided.

I thought he was going to beat me until I was dead. Maybe he would have.

But then Sain showed up. I didn?t want his help. I didn?t want him to take care of me, because as far as I knew he could care less. I was nothing at all to him. He?s ripped my heart out and handed it to me, and even still, I want his company, and I don?t, all at the same time. The ****er told me that he lied when he spat all those nasty thing at me. That he does care about me, and it just? I don?t know. Things are so screwed up in my head when I think about him, so I try not to.

He beat Zagan off of me. Made him run like a little bitch with his tail between his legs with the coin Madame gave him so many years ago. A one time token to get him away in a tight spot. I remember him bragging about how he wouldn?t ever need it. It?s mildly satisfying that he was wrong? but it does nothing to dim the fact that He gave Sain my true name. Spoke it and tossed it to the air like it was nothing. Like it didn?t give him complete control over me and everything that I am. He took away the fact that I?ll never be free, even when he dies?. Just because I know? I know that I couldn?t bring myself to kill Sain too.

Sain even said that if I decided to he would accept it.

Screw that.

After he pieced me back together so I didn?t die from blood loss, he made sure I was dressed, that I had contacted Antonia to come and get me? he left me alone to my own misery in his apartment. The rest of the night was more of an exhausted blur. Charley healed me. We cut the collar free, and I just kinda slept, because I was too tired to do anything else. I didn?t want to do anything else.

So yeah, that?s the gist of what went down that night with Zagan, and despite all that, I am determined to not let it show that he got to me. I try my hardest to let it roll off my shoulders, to not let him and the things that he has done to me get in the way of the happiness I have clawed my way up to getting. Everything I have managed to come across while living here in Rhy?din has been of my own doing? and that is something that Zagan can never take away from me, no matter how many times he tries.

It?s mine, and mine alone, and **** anyone that thinks that they can actually take that away from me.

9/16/17

The following words are written on a separate sheet of paper, and tucked into the journal. Unlike the ones before, they are not scribbled out.

Dolidh,

You don?t seem to realize that my anger is not misplaced. I am angry at Da, because he gave me away to that vile creature of a man.

You and Mama. The anger I feel towards you is on a different matter. Neither one of you fought to keep me at home. You didn?t speak up. You didn?t question. You just stood there as I begged for you to not let this happen. You did not make the decision yourself, but you finalized it with your inaction, and lack of reaction.

Tell me. How can you still call someone family when you simply stand by and let them be dragged off to have gods knows what happen to them? How can someone consider someone who didn?t budge at all in such a situation, to be family?

I?m not running. Not from my past anyways. Not anymore. I was when I came here. Then it followed me. And I decided that for once, I was done running, that I was going to do a damn determined job to protect the life that I?ve managed to make for myself. I carry my past within me, as it will always play a part in just who I am. I still choke on it, but I?m trying my damnedest to not let it define me.

Dolidh. We may be linked by blood, but I take no pride in coming from the family I was born to. What pride is there to be had in a father that gambled away everything he owned, and continued until he had a debt so great he could never dream of paying it off. There is no pride in coming from a family that sold off a member to settle the debt of another.

And this world? This world is my home. I was welcomed here with open arms. I found a family of my own. Family does not have to be blood, lovely. You say sinners and hypocrites, I say beautiful souls, and lovely faces. So many different kinds of people that it makes your head spin. They found a purpose in this mishmash melting pot. This place is not a cesspool of endless chaos and carnal suffering. This place is filled with life, and beauty. You are just too narrow minded to see so.

I am not destined for anything great. I am not anything, or anyone special. I am no great hero, I am no grand master in the scheme of things. I am me, and nothing, not even you, can change that, sister.

There are families, there are lives in this city. There is nothing at all that happens to put me on some pedestal above them like I am better. Like I don?t struggle with my brain, because it?s so twisted and ****ed up from my years of continuous abuse from Zagan. Like I don?t have anything important to worry about.

My years of struggle and pain have taught me humility. Tell me sister, what have your years shown you?

Ronixi

9/20/17

On my way home, I ran into an older gentleman that was hanging up a ?For sale? Sign on an older car. Took a moment before I realized it was a Firebird. (Hey, still really learning and expanding my knowledge on pretty cars.) Rust orange, and in need of a paint job and a little body work. And well. I stopped, chatted with the old man. He told me the story behind the vehicle. It was his wife?s dream car. She had wanted one for years, but he never had the money to buy a fully restored one. So, about five years ago, he bought this one, decent body, but the engine needed work. He bought it for 4 grand. Spent a year working on the weekends and occasional afternoon to restore the engine.Once that was finished, he had plans to restore the rest of the car too. She got to drive it a couple of times.

Before he had a chance to start working on the rest of it, she got ill rather suddenly, and passed. He didn?t have the heart to fix it, or think of selling it for a while. But now he was hurting for cash, and figured why not, because it reminded him of of her, and the unfinished dream the car signified.

Maybe I?m a sucker for bittersweet stories like that, but I asked him how much. Got the price of 5 grand, just so he could at least get the money put into it back.Told him to give me like 20 minutes because I?d be back with the money, but would like to test drive it before hand. He gave me the greenlight, and I think I ran halfway there. I was excited, and happy. Got home, invaded my squirrel fund and stuffed 8 grand in an envelope. I paced myself the way back, only because I didn?t want to show up in a huffing mess.

When I got back, I let him have the envelope to hold for safe keeping while I tested her out. I think I knew I was buying her for definite, when I turned her on. She rumbled, and purred, and drives like an absolute dream. He did a fabulous job on the engine. When I circled back from the test drive, he tried to protest how much I had in there. Told him not to. To take care of the things he needed to take care of, get things together, buy his wife some nice flowers, and, when he had the chance, to just pay it forward, even if it?s just in little bits. He finally gave up, and signed her over to me. I promised him I?d bring her by once she was restored to her full glory.

She?s a beast on highways.

But I had Antonia help me out like crazy when I first got here. I figure the least I could do was pass it on, and encourage someone else to do the same when they were in a better place. Ripples could sometimes turn into waves, and why not have them be positive ones?

I know I?m not the most? morally correct person out there, but there?s nothing wrong with spreading kindness, and telling someone to pass it on. It?s good to encourage good in others. It feels good helping others sometimes.

Anyways, before I turn into a big mushy sap of some kind I?m gonna go hunt down a late night snack, and then try to sleep.

11/1/17

God, everything?s so ****ed up.

I swear to all the power in me that Zagan will die.

I just?. I can?t even sort my thoughts out to write.

****.

It?s? It?s been a really long month. And it?s only getting longer.