It's official. *tries to smile* I'm dying. Or, at least, I feel like I am. I've caught that flu, finally ... what little was left of my immune system just caved in last night. I've locked myself in my room all day. Sleeping. Full of nightmares and tossing and turning - and trying to quarantine myself so I don't contaminate the very pregnant Shannon. Haven't even eaten. I'm not hungry. And I know I haven't eaten for ... a long time. Since yesterday afternoon, I think ... I have no desire to eat. I constantly feel as though someone has a hold around my chest - a really, tight hold. David finally came in. Told me I looked like shit and to take a shower, that maybe I'd feel a little better. And then he noticed that I had bruises on my arms, right above my elbows. He asked me if I was okay. I told him I didn't know how I got them, but it was probably from the boxes at work. He knows I bruise easily. And he said it was fine, but if they didn't clear up in a week - since I don't work at the store anymore - that he and I are going to have a long talk. I fear our long talks. You people ... just wouldn't understand how much I fear those long talks. But I honestly don't know how I got them. The boxes would be the only way I could think of to explain it. I thought he was going to leave me alone after that, but he didn't. Said something about me looking flushed. Then he sat beside me on my mattress and said I had a fever. He said "You really are sick, aren't you?" Told me ... that he was worried. Seriously worried. And then he just ... sat there, for a long time, stroking my back. I don't know when he left. I fell back asleep. When I got up, I finally got a shower and now here I am. Yeah ... dreams. I had them. I think I remember David mentioning something about all the writing in my notebook this afternoon and ink on my hands. I'd been writing them down as fast as I could. I'll only ... type out two, however ... because they were the most haunting. Dream One SHIPS. That was the first thing I wrote down. Apparently, wherever it was that I was staying, was close to a harbor or ... something. Ships were coming. My third eye was watching them wreak havoc on the town. But why did I dream of Amy? I haven't really talked to her since high school ... blond hair, blue eyes ... everyone loved Amy. She was popular, friendly. We'd been best friends, in real life, when we were children. Such good friends. Then, you know, middle and high school came and cliques happened ... that's just how life goes. But why did I dream of her? It was still cloudy outside. It's always cloudy lately. The sky was grey, but it was still daylight. And Amy had come with a group of people - she'd come seeking refuge, like she knew that whoever was attacking and chasing them, would never dare come after me. Like my very presence is protecting. She asked me to come with them, to bring my daughter - because our presence was not only comforting, but it protected them somehow. I wanted to go with them, to get out of the building I had been for a while ... for fresh air ... to see the world - I wanted to go with them, to protect them ... but Cale held me back. That's his name ... Cale ... the main with the platinum blond hair who called me "Master Larc" ... I remember him offering to give them refuge in some place underground, because I wasn't well enough to go traveling. Amy said she knew I wasn't well because I was wearing white. She'd actually ... brought it up. I remember Mary slipping her hand into mine and holding it. I remember walking toward these caves ... I remember tree branches and leaves, going through some woods ... I remember smiling. I remember going outside. I remember thinking that Amy thought I would protect her and her group of people based on the fact that we had been friends once upon a time - just because we knew each other ... which really I was doing this because yes, we had been friends, but she also had a couple of 10-year-old girls with her. Innocent children who did not deserve to die. As we were leading them all to a safe haven, I remember Amy talking to me. She told me I was different. I remember smiling at her a lot. She said something about how when we were kids, she had a lot of friends, a lot of people liked her and fancied her, doted on her ... but when I was a child, I was usually the quiet one in the corner, the shy one, the cautious one. But that, believe it or not, more people loved me than they let on. That a lot of the girls in the class never spoke to me, but crushed on me all of the time. She said I'd been intimidating back then, because I was so nice and quiet ... cute, she'd called me. She said that she wished that people hadn't been so intimidated by me, because maybe then I wouldn't have felt so alone. I remember still smiling - not trying to mask my feelings, but just smiling. I remember holding onto Mary's hand. Amy said that I was different - said that despite everything, when I was a child, I seemed so much happier. I was thinking, but did not say, in reply ... that I also had both parents back then. She told me I didn't look well. She told me that if I didn't leave the situation I was in, I would die, or never recover. I told her that I'll never be well, and I knew this. She told me I was going to die - And I just smiled and told her that I was going to hold out as long as I could ... I don't know what she meant, but she asked me why I couldn't just turn it off. "Why can't you just turn it off?" I asked her what she was talking about. She said "The thing that makes everyone love you so much." She leaned in to kiss my cheek, I think, but I felt Cale grab that back of my shirt collar and pull me back to him. His mind - though his lips did not move - his mind shouted "MINE!" He looked so stern, and somewhat furious ... Mary squeezed my hand, I remember, as I was looking at Cale. She was trying to distract me. She said something about "Daddy's in love, but not with you" to Amy as the door was closing, locking her and her group down in those safe caves. Mary said to me "You're in love, so give me a mommy." But all I could think about was Cale's mind shouting "MINE!" Dream Two Underwater. I'm underwater, but it's not like I'm there ... the light underwater is orange, like it's sunset at the surface. Underwater ... but I can breathe. It felt like a dream within a dream. I was swimming, but not really swimming. I was sinking ... and then I was sinking over this body. It was darker there. I felt drawn to it. I didn't know who it was, but I knew I couldn't save them from the bottom. I remember touching their face, though, I remember kissing their lips and exhaling into to their mouth ... I don't know why I did - even if it did bring them back to life, it wouldn't save them - they'd just have another few seconds of drowning. Then I remember being in a room, no longer underwater, tied to a chain with the rope cutting into my hands, my wrists. I was being raped ... over and over. Once by a man with red hair and a beard, and once by a taller man with longer dark hair and some stubble. Over and over. I wanted to scream, but I had a gag in my mouth. I was in a lot of pain. I'd felt as though I had been snapped in two. I was trying so hard to breathe and not cry. I was so cold. And then I heard birds ... outside my window, fluttering, chirping. My eyes opened and everything was over. I was in that calming, whitish room again that I had been in the night before. I was laying on my stomach. I remember looking to my wrists - because they had hurt so much, but they were fine. I remember closing my eyes again to listen to the birds, then the door to my room opening. I heard quiet, but quick footsteps, then felt someone jumping on my bed. I opened my eyes a little and it was Mary. Of course I smile, but she was jumping up and down, kind of half-laughing as she was singing something to the tune of "Brother John" ... it was the first thing I wrote down when I woke up. "Daddy's sleeping, Daddy's sleeping. But not no more! Not no more! Cuz I'm jumping on his bed, jumping on his bed! I love my dad! I love my dad!" I just smiled at her. A real smile - not the fake ones that I put on to hide my feelings. An actual, real smile. She told me I needed to do that more often. Then Cale came in, and yelled at Mary. Said something like "Mary! Don't jump on his bed like that! Go out and play in the garden!" She stopped hopping, but fell down on top of me. Asked Cale "Can Daddy's come out to play with me today?" "Not today, Mary. He's still sick." "He's always sick. When will he be better?" "Soon, Mary. Go play." "That's what you said yesterday." Then she hugged me ... and I hugged her back, so tightly. I just love the way she feels in my arms. But she kissed my cheek and whispered, really quietly to me. "Don't drink the tea." Before she giggled and said "I love you" and ran out the door. Cale was setting down a tray of food for me on the end table by the bed. I started to sit up, but he tells me to stay. He placed the tray over my lap with food ... and tea ... and I just stared at him. I told him I wasn't hungry, he told me I had to eat. And I just lean against the headboard and stare at him ... I just ... stare at him. He stares back for a split second, then covers my eyes with his hand. He says "Don't look at me like that." I'm quiet then say "Lindsay does that." Then I started to feel like I was going to cry. He told me to drink my tea - but I don't want to. I let a tear slip. He kissed my brow, told me to drink my tea. I'm going ... to go puke now. My lovely ... I'll be on later ... I feel like shit. Maybe I'll be back when you're done eating ...