#GUESS WHO'S BACK? BACK AGAIN? TERESA'S BACK! TELL A FRIEND!

[faceglitchsworld]

Who let this cute squirrel stealing the camera?! 😭🥺

[goldsbitch]

That one call overseas

part 7 to That one Christmas flight

summary: Now that we don't talk.

warning: pure angst this time, cheesy af, swear words I guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely

The hole Y/N dug for herself was getting deeper with each day of no contact with Lando. Gone was her ability to contain her emotions within herself. Her friends were getting concerned. Their ever so calm and easy going friend turned into an impulsive, unreliable and even slightly rude menace.

Teresa was the one who kept patience with her in the worst days, as only the best of friends do. When Y/N got kicked out of a bar for the first time in her life for her comments in lousy bad Italian on a random couple in the late hours of their Friday night, Teresa walked her home and screamed Hits Different with her at the top of their lungs to ease the atmosphere. And once they were home, she listened to Y/N rant about how she would never ever call the asshole who does not even bother to text her again. Teresa also stopped her from throwing his hoodie away, knowing that the following morning would hurt just a little more.

When Y/N woke up the following noon, she took a hard look in the mirror. This was getting ridiculous. She swore to herself and all of her roommates that no more alcohol and no more Lando desperation. It's a crush - it'll pass. One day this will be a nice story to tell the kids she'll have with some Antonio, the accountant or Ignacio, the lawyer. Not Lando, the racer - and that was ok.

//

Lando was off to Montreal and things could not be more busy for him. New updates to test, again, as his frustration grew. He only wished to be finally at the top podium, which seemed to always slip in between his hands. His mind, of course, was clouded by the thoughts of Y/N. At first he thought ashamed of himself for not reaching out and appearing like an asshole - but he somewhat expected her to break the silence. He started to second guess every aspect of the time they shared together. Perhaps she did not have as great time as he had, perhaps he acted like an asshole, or perhaps he just was not good enough for those who were not under the F1 charm spell. Not good enough for her. He finally resorted into doing something he tries to avoid as much as possible - looked at the fan pages and comments to boost his ego up. It only led to him feeling more shameful and pathetic than when he started. He kept her necklace and brought it with him. For all it was worth, he had an amazing memory to look back at, no matter how delusional he felt doing that.

The paddock was a great place to be at when searching for a distraction, so he made sure to spend as little time as possible alone and surrounded himself with people. He even walked to the stands often than he usually would, searching fans and giving photos out, smiling a little to extra on all the girls who looked remotely close to Y/N. Who knows, he might pick up someone like that at the end of Montreal ride. Why not. Nobody was stopping him.

He went to the race with all he had, fully prepped and focused. However, red flags, poor strategy choice had him finishing way below the targeted place. To his luck, Oscar was on a roll of luck and finished way better compared to Lando - and of course that everyone compared. Debrief meetings like that drown the soul more than usually.

Influx of all the journalists was overwhelming that day. The interview fatigue hit hard and after few of those, Lando felt that based on the questions he was asked, everyone thought of this race like a massive fail for him. His own answers continually worsened.

"Why do you think this week has ended the way it did?" asked one of the more prominent interviewers.

"Well, you know how it is. Sometimes the week just does not go the way you'd wish, even if last weekend it seemed like we're on a track to something good. One things affects the other and getting out of that rut is challenging."

"Are you talking about the updates, or something different?"

"Yeah, something like that. But as they say, when life gives you lemons, right. Make lemonade...or limoncello for a rainy day, ey?"

"Well, we hope to see the cheerful Lando soon and ideally at a podium too!" Lando knew the interviewer was only doing his job and technically she was not doing anything wrong, but he could not help and for a split second let his face do a look, that was certainly not appropriate for someone who was so used to media and knew he had to be smart around them.

He was in no mood to watch a celebration of Oscar or to get wrapped up in the post race chaos. Once he felt free to leave, he did, putting his phone on don't disturbe mode and went for a walk around the city with his headphones on, to dwelve in some sad tunes and solitude of his own thoughts.

//

Y/N asked Teresa to punch her anytime she looked like she was about to search Lando news. Her roommate refused to do that as it would be a full time job, but did help her set up some tags to block. Saturday was a success, however once Sunday evening and race time rolled in, Y/N knew she was absolutely not ready to try and ignore it. So instead they made a girls evening in about it. The idea was to replace real memories with Lando for race watching and distance him. They were trying... So they sat together with their study books to combine distractions. Y/N was explaining the race rules, avoiding any personal remarks about Lando. To her own disappointment, he was not featured a lot as there was not much really going on for him during the race. But maybe it was for the best. It really felt alienating, seeing his face on the screen, a character in the story of F1, so far removed from the unfiltered smiling face she had burned in her memory. The mood in the apartment was calm, maybe a little mellow. There was a weird calmness in Y/N, as she knew for a fact that he was busy. Knowing that she will definitely not get any text and that he was not ignoring her was soothing for the soul, even if for just few hours. At the end, the girls had way better time than expected, Teresa taking the initiative to comment on all the rest of the drivers and ranking them based on looks and vibes. She became a Leclerc girl all the way in.

"Right, that's my cue to go to the bathroom," Y/N stood up as the post race interviews rolled in. That would be too much at the moment.

"Love the drama vibes you give off. I'll watch it and let you know if there was anything alarming," Teresa assured her.

"Doubt that," was the bitter response she received back.

Once Y/N came back, she returned to her friend sitting with a puzzled look.

"What?!" all the pent up emotions took the stage, all the hard worked stillness gone as if it was a dream.

Teresa sat in silence, looking bluntly at the screen.

"What??!" Y/N repeated impatiently. "Ugh, forget this charade. I'll just watch it." This all felt like she had passed the test, but hadn't learned the lesson at all.

"Yeah, maybe you should. Interesting, his voice is higher that I imagined," Teresa replied as Y/N became to rewind the stream. They sat in silence, as they watched post race Lando in his tiredness, obvious annoyance and visible dark circles under his eyes. A shock went through Y/N at the word limoncello.

"Y/N, it must a coincidence. He's just been to Italy, so the connection was there...means probably nothing," Teresa said quietly as she watched her bewildered friend.

"Limoncello. Name a more Italian drink...What the fuck?? Is he joking right now? What is this?"

"Y/N, he has no idea you're watching, remember?"

"Yeah, I don't care about that. Makes it even worse actually." She replayed his interview once again.

"Ok, that's it - I'm taking this away from you," Teresa ordered after she saw Y/N going for a third round of the interview. "Do you wanna talk about it, talk it through?" So they went on to the kitchen, cooked some pasta while Y/N went on a rant where she let all her thoughts let loose.

//

"Honestly, fuck him. I don't need the mess he brings into my life. I can find great sex on every corner in this city!"

"Yeah, you go girl!"

"You know what, I'm gonna call him!" Y/N turned directions again for 17th time that day.

"Yeah, I kind of thought you would," Teresa sighed tiredly. "And I think you should, the worst thing you might get is a peace of mind...eventually."

"Yeah, I'm gonna do it! Now!"

She dialed his number. The phone rang for the first time. The second and third. With the seventh dial, she hung up. The girls looked at each and Teresa went for a hug.

"He might be busy with some racing stuff?" Teresa said in a tone which suggested that she herself had a hard time believing.

"I'm so stupid," Y/N whispered.

//

Of course he would miss it. Obviously. Because that just what seems to follow him and this girl around. It was deep evening over at her timezone, but still ok for a late night talk. He called back. What was he even planning on saying? He had no idea. When she did not pick up, he called for a second time. She picked up his facetime call and to say his heart skipped a beat would be an understatement. His heart triple jumped. A face appeared in low light. She smiled.

"Hey you," he opened with. The word honey almost slipped his tongue, but he was not sure how it would be received on the other side of the line.

She waved and gestured him to be silent. Lando was bewildered.

"Where are you?" he whispered, trying to unsucesfully figure out from her background. Again, he was met with a shush. Well, this will be real fun, Lando thought, slightly annoyed.

"Wait, you have me in your earbuds...so you need to be silent, not me!" Y/N frowned and nodded. She got up from where she was sitting and started walking.

"Well, since I have some guaranteed no interruption time, let me fill your ears with a story! There once was a beautiful girl, who talked so much and was so obnoxious that the city decided to ban her from speaking. Luckily, she found the most handsome guy in the town to keep her company with his wit, charm and great looks. To reward him for his services she sent him-"

"Ok, you can STOP now," she exclaimed, as she walked down the stairs.

"Where the fuck are you at this hour, young lady. Someone should seriously keep an eye on you!"

"Yeah, well, I sometimes think the same - and then I'm suddenly sitting in some random hotel room hundreds of miles away from where I was supposed to be," she winked at him. "No, I was at the church."

"Oh...you religious? Wait, are the churches still open?"

"Yes, silly. It's Italy, one always is. And no, I'm not religious per say."

"Oh, well then it makes perfect sense that you're hanging out in churches at midnight, yes."

"Yeah, you know. One gets bored."

"Ok, weirdo," Lando laughed.

"No, I like to go there to clear my head. There is some magic in the architecture and in the old walls," she explained. She really did go to get her head clear, to think it out. "Oh, and one day, I'd like to fuck in like a really old building. Not church exactly, but like I dunno. Our university halls are making me super hot sometimes." She had no idea why this was the first thing she'd pick as a topic. God, she felt lame.

"Well, that would be a hard thing to decline, if you're offering."

"Cheeky as ever, are we?"

"Obviously. So, tell me. Whats up? It's nice to see you by the way. I wanted to tell you that before you shushed me down so politely."

"Aw, nice to see you too, man." Lando would prefer to be called differently. "Some school stuff, completely blew my Monday's presentation, so that was fun."

"You should have studied in the weekend, hmm!"

"Yes! I should have," she had a hard time keeping the smiles in, "Anyway, otherwise it's been pretty much a lot of nothing."

"So you called me because you're bored and not because you wanted to talk to me?" He knew he was pushing it. But desperate times... She hesitated and shot him a strange look he could not decipher.

"Did you know we also have leaning tower here in Bologna?" Y/N panned the phone to show him one of the two towers in the city centre. She was walking around with no apparent destination. "Have you been here?"

Lando smiled weakly. There was a strange frustration regarding the distance he felt towards her. Not the physical miles. "Yeah, I've been there once." His Bologna trip was not exactly a great memory. Maybe this call had been a mistake. The last thing he needed now was to feel strange. He showed her the park he had been walking in.

"I'm in Montreal! Have you been?" Y/N also felt some strange vibes coming through this dry conversation

"No, but sounds fun."

"Not really. There has been a lot of pressure at me lately. I'm starting to hate it. Can't say it to anyone, nobody seems to get it." He looked off to Y/N from the start of the phone call. She took few breaths to triple check that she really wanted to break the elephant in the room. It somehow seemed like a "now or never" situation.

"Saw the race today." Lando paused. He suddenly felt the most vulnerable he had ever felt with her. Did she know him from the first moment? Was she lying? He had a hard time gathering out a response. She felt that, so she started blabbering. The cat was out of the bag, so what the hell.

"I broke our rule after we met. Not immediately! But I just...it felt nice meeting you. And I had no idea about racing beforehand. I overheard your name once and I was like "there can't have been two sets of parents naming their child Lando in this century". She looked at his puzzled face. "I'm sorry." Range of emotions floated through Lando, who was particularly sensitive today. It was only a matter of time when she'd find out who he was, he knew the day had to come at some point. But there was a part of him that wanted him to be the one to tell her. To tell his side of the story first, before she could get it elsewhere. He only had to trust her that she wasn't lying from the start. Very few people liked him for him and not "the racer Lando Norris".

But then again, who was he judge? He practically stalked her down - no, not practically, he actually tracked her down. Why did he do that? Because he was wonderstuck too. He liked her. So that meant that she liked him too. Sense of pride took over.

"Don't say sorry. You look too cute doing that," se said feeling braver now and less like a teenager with a crush. "Nah, it's ok. Wanted to spare you of the NDA, but I guess too late now." The more he came to terms with the fact he was not an enigma anymore, the more confident he became. "I mean, I was the one to find you even though you're not exactly famous, so..."

"Yeah!" she said as if she forgot that. "See, bordeline creepy," she laughed, obviously feeling relieved that he hadn't hung up the phone. "But, it's you, so I guess cute?"

"I'd say it's a little problematic on both parts, so we're even, honey."

She laughed. The looks they shared were a little more intimate than their previous looks. A sense of warmth washed over Y/N.

"It's funny. Do you know when I was in Bologna?"

"Ha, I do actually. My friends saw you at a bar."

"Yes...That's not exactly a coincidence. I wanted to "bump" into you accidentally."

She bit her lip down and closed her eyes. Took a deep breath and replied: "Do you know what was also a massive fail?"

He shook his head.

"I was at Imola. I wanted to "bump" into you accidentally."

Silence followed, as the two idiots took the new information in. Butterflies flying all over Bologna and Montreal.

"I think it's time we stopped dancing around and start being clear with each other or we'll start to look really stupid," Lando stated after a moment.

"Agree, Lando."

"Great, Y/N. I want to see you again soon."

"Me too."

They talked for another hour. Chatting lightly around about this and that, heart racing, not pushing more boundaries anymore that night, as the leap felt big enough to hardly swallow for them at the time. Y/N had final exams so the next weekend was a no go for her. But they agreed she'll come over to Spain, as he calendar was clear until the summer. Apart from seeing each other, confidentiality was a big thing for both of them. They barely knew each other, even if it had felt differently every time they talked.

Y/N was unable to relax that night, as the line "I can't wait to kiss you again," which Lando said instead of a goodbye, burned in her mind with the brightest of all flames. Some people were never destined to be friends.

part 8

__________________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1  @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother @goldenharrysworld @llando4norris @classiclitfreak  @ophcelia @leclerc13 @starmanv @k4r1402 @biitch-with-wifi @drunk-teens-doing-drugs 

[ateotd-izzy]

maroon | thomas x fem!reader

“the burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me”

during his first night in the glade, thomas (quite literally) bumps into a girl.

“and how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was maroon”

as more time passes, thomas becomes closer with y/n (very close), but that changes after they escape the maze.

“the mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones”

warnings: it’s bad, kissing, maze runner, swearing and whatever (i never know what to write here)

“the lips i used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon”

☾

“our med-jacks, clint and jeff.” newt introduced to the greenie as he showed the boy around. “and this is— woah, watch out.”

the greenie hadn’t been watching where he was going and bumped right into you as you walked past, spilling the drink he had been holding all over your shirt.

“oh, god, i am so…” he paused as he met your eyes. a girl? “sorry.”

you looked down at your soaking wet shirt and a few boys around snickered.

“thanks.” you smiled sarcastically and turned on your heel, heading towards the small hut that sat not far from the homestead.

“nice one, greenie.” newt clapped him on the back. “i think you just ruined her day.”

“who was that?” the boy asked, watching as you disappeared behind the door of the hut.

“y/n. she’s one of the runners.” newt answered. “also the glade’s only girl.”

“oh.”

inside you were changing your shirt, muttering in annoyance as you did so.

your favorite shirt (out of the five or so you owned) was now covered in gally’s foul-smelling drink thanks to that greenie.

after changing, you went outside to join the party again, only for it to be declared over moments after the greenie remembered his name.

thomas.

“uh, hey.” he jogged over to you as you walked back to your hut. “i’m, um, i’m sorry about before. is your shirt okay?”

“it’ll survive.” you shrugged. “i guess.”

“so, you’re a runner?” he asked, walking with you. “you go into the maze with that minho guy?”

“yep.” you glanced at him. “are you just going to follow me the whole way?”

“oh, sorry.” he slowed down. “um, i’ll go now.”

“okay.” you stared.

“see you around, y/n.”

you furrowed your eyebrows. “right. see you around…”

“thomas.”

“see you around, thomas.”

while it may not have seemed like it, you and thomas became pretty close friends over the next week or so, and you felt dumb to admit that you even had feelings for him.

he was in the same boat. except thomas was head-over-heels in love with you.

you kissed once. when the glade was being attacked by grievers, he kissed you before the two of you split up.

so after your group escaped the maze, the two of you did your best to stick together.

the two of you sat on the floor of the room your group had been forced into after being ‘saved’.

your legs were stretched out to sit in his lap, and his hands sat on top of them.

the rest of the group was around, all full after eating more food than they’d ever seen in their lives.

you couldn’t focus on the conversation that was going on between teresa and the boys, because all you could focus on was how thomas’ fingers drew small shapes on the bare skin of your leg where your pants had rolled up a little.

you wanted to tell him how you felt. you wanted to kiss him again. but everyone else was around, and the thought of being in front of everyone made you uncomfortable.

you had no clue how thomas did his whole leader thing.

when the door to the room opened, everyone jumped up and ran over, eager to know exactly what was going on.

the man who had opened the door introduced himself as mr. janson and led your group through the compound.

thomas held your hand the whole time.

“first things first, let’s do something about that smell.”

the boys were being taken to a different room to you and teresa. just before your hand slipped from his, you kissed thomas on the cheek. simple enough.

that night you properly kissed again and he asked you to be his girlfriend, and despite all of your worries, you said yes.

it wasn’t long after that when your group had to leave the compound with another boy, aris. you still hadn’t escaped wicked.

you stuck by thomas’ side the whole time, or until you were separated again.

you didn’t even know if he was alive, but jorge was confident he and brenda were fine.

it took a few days until you reached what jorge called marcus’ place.

you got into the party and the first thing you spotted was thomas and brenda.

kissing.

then they pulled apart, thomas said something and brenda wandered off.

thomas seemed to spin around the room until he yelled out and collapsed.

your heart was broken.

you were separated for just a few days, the longest since you had met, and he was kissing a girl he barely knew.

you couldn’t even say anything to him because he was out cold. instead you had to help minho drag him upstairs and act like nothing happened.

then, after he woke up, your group was on the run again, searching for the right arm.

in the car, thomas reached his hand over and tried to take yours in his, but you pulled yours back. you didn’t let him.

he looked at you. he was confused.

you didn’t answer his look. you just turned your head away from him and looked out the car window.

he had no clue why you were suddenly ignoring him. not the entire drive to the mountains, not when the were taken to the right arm camp, not when brenda collapsed.

it was only when he was in the tent with her later, just after brenda woke up, when it clicked to him why.

you had seen brenda kiss him.

everything seemed to click into place at that moment, and he jumped to his feet halfway through his conversation with brenda.

“you okay?” she asked.

“yeah. yeah, there’s just something i need to do.” thomas looked down at her. “i’m sorry, i’ll be back later.”

then he ran out of the tent.

the camp was large, and thomas had no clue where he could find you. or any of his friends for that matter.

it took about ten minutes of searching until he found you.

you were sitting alone on a rock, looking down at your feet and mumbling something to yourself.

“y/n?”

you looked up and thomas realized you had been crying.

“what?”

there was a twinge of bitterness in your voice, and thomas frowned. it reminded him of how you had spoken to him the night you met, when he had splashed his drink into you.

“you okay?”

“i’m fine.”

he knew you weren’t, and he ignored the obvious signs that you didn’t want him around when he sat down beside you.

“what do you want, thomas?” you asked.

without another word, he simply wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.

at first, you thought about trying to pull away. but you didn’t.

“why’d you kiss her? brenda?” you asked eventually. “do you like her better? because, you know, i’ll back off or whatev—”

“no, no, no, y/n.” he pulled back so he could look you in the eyes. “i could never like anyone better than i like you.”

“then why—?”

“she kissed me.” thomas told you, cupping your cheek with one hand. “we were drugged, okay? i…”

thomas winced slightly at the memory of brenda’s face after his words.

“i thought she was you.” he admitted. “whatever that marcus guy put in that drink had me seeing the weirdest shit.”

“are you calling me weird shit?” you teased and thomas’ eyes widened.

“what? no.” he shook his head. “that’s not what i meant.”

“i know. i was kidding.”

you grabbed his hand and interlocked your fingers.

“i’m sorry.” he apologized.

“don’t be. i get it now.” you shrugged.

“yeah, but i could’ve said something sooner.”

“when?” you asked. “when you were passed out? or when we were almost shot by mountain people?”

he chuckled. “okay, maybe not. but—”

“tommy, i get it. don’t worry.”

the feeling of freedom and happiness that evening was short lived, and soon became a nightmare.

teresa betrayed them, wicked burned the camp to the ground, and multiple people were taken.

sonya, aris, minho and you.

thomas had lost you. he had lost the battle. but he was determined to get you and minho and everyone else back.

he would do anything he could. he would do whatever it took to get you back.

taglist: @brvceyamada

a/n: why don’t these ever turn out like they sounded in my head LMAO

[sukisheadlights]

PROTECTIVE TENDANCIES!

tmrminho x wckd!oc

summary: she took care of him all these years in the maze. But will she be there for him when he needs her outside it?

story: maze runner masterlist

rory’s voice mail 🎧: Sooo I'm not that well versed in the lore (that is a sign for re-watch + re-read I know) either way I haven't made any mistakes as far as I'm aware of but incase I missed anything, let me know <3 love you, say it back!

SPOILERS AHEAD OBVIOUSLY

Sadira spins around in her chair as the dark blue light reflects off her glasses; before coming to an abrupt and screechy halt when she hears him yell through the computer screen. She quickly turns and looks over the multiple cctv screens around her in search of minho, until she finds him. Eventually. She messes around with some buttons around her until the 'griever' as the gladers called it, slows down. She sighs and leans against the chair having succesfully saved him the third time this week.

Sadira could confidentaly say that she was the youngest at w.c.k.d. She was 16. She could tell you alot of things, except for what she does in the abnormally technologically advanced building all day. There isn't exactly a job description for saving the asses of the friends you've made through a screen who don't know you even exist. Infact, that probably hinders the consistent experiements being thrown at these children who are her age, heck— some of them are even younger.

Sadira knows that the only reason she isn't in that maze is because she's the daughter of Dr. Ava Paige. I guess even being an adopted daughter has it's own advantages.

That's why she's so careful when she saves the lives of the gladers, if ava finds out both her and the reckless gladers she watched over are doomed. Boy this would be tough to explain if she met them in person, how would she even act around them? Thankfully she doesn't have to worry about that yet. Right?

When Ava turned her away and banished her from coming to w.c.k.d for 'safety reasons', Sadira was MORE than curious on what her 'mother' was hiding. So naturally, when she called her back urgently she ran through the multiple maze like hallways of the building in search of Ava like a mad woman. Maybe in her own way, w.c.k.d was her maze and cage too. just in a non-life threatening sense. for now.

She walks towards the prison cell looking holding room as she stands next to the woman she calls her mother not looking through the window just yet; she should have, maybe she could have ran instead of walking straight to her demise.

Instead she stared gaping mouth at the other girl who happened to step into her peripheral vision. "You remember teresa, yes?" Ava announced loudly, her words ringing colder than the white lights above their head. Sadira could only nod in response; who the hell was inside that room?

"Unfortunately my love, it would be unwise to get into details here. But teresa recently found her way back to w.c.k.d, back to us. And she has been working with us in your absence. It is with a full heart that I can tell you that you will be learning hands on how to talk to a test subject today. Do not worry child, rest assured, you will be safe." She spoke again as teresa walked away, her tone laced with something unfamiliar which, looking back— could have only been something poisonous. "Go on." she nudged again as Sadira walked into the plain white chamber which, looked even sadder from the inside.

She turned around as the door closed behind her and this, mystery inmate. Her heart dropped to her feet. It was him. He was here. Nonetheless, she approached slowly and sat down infront of him. He looked...Terrible.

"Hello," She said blandly, but internally she was nervous as ever. But if she showed it, Ava wouldn't let her talk to him again. How would she help him out then? She should probably slow down but the difference in his character was unsettling.

He didn't say anything in response and only watched her intently, or dazed. She remembered how his eyes looked in the maze, even if they were facing near death every second of the day. And then she noticed how dead they looked this very moment, when this was the one time in life he was truly protected. She looked towards the one-way mirror hoping she was looking directly at Ava. That's when he scoffed. "They can't save you in here."

She looked back at him, eyebrows raised and all. "What would I need saving from, Minho? You won't hurt me." She said confidentally, but not in the sense that she knew he wouldn't. Well, still in that sense but she only showed Ava what was on the surface. Confidence in the sense that she was hiding her fear.

Minho ofcourse, knows that even if he wanted to kill her this very second he would be unable to, considering the shitload of drugs he was put on. She's pretty, it's a shame she's on the wrong side of all of this, he thought.

"Don't wanna talk? that's alright. We'll get you to one of these days Minho. Time is on our side." the words spilled out of sadira's mouth leaving a bitter after-taste. she didn't like talking to him like this, but if she even let Ava catch on to the idea that sadira had...once grown fond of the boy infront of her? she would have lost her chance. for what exactly? she's not entirely sure herself.

silence engulfed the small white room as she watched the nervous bob of his adam's apple before promptly getting up and leaving.

That night, without much shock. She was kidnapped. "Oh, it's just you lot." she said calmly, looking at the faces of thomas, frypan, newt, and gally. All the idiots she saved multiple times. Well, except for frypan— he was always a sweetheart.

The point is, she wasn't intimidated. Instead she laughed when they tried to threaten her. Then, she asked them to untie her and much to everyone's surprise, they obliged.

Not wanting to leave them high and dry Sadira explained everything to them. How she saved their lives, How she knew them, How she saw teresa, And about how she spoke to Minho. She then warned them that as a 16 year old saving them to those small extents was all she could have done and that it would be unwise to redirect their anger from w.c.k.d to her simply because she knew.

She also agreed to get minho out, but that was a given. The only condition she set down was freedom from Dr. Ava Paige. Who she had the displeasure of calling her mother. They sat on the floor that night and all the gladers and Sadira in unison decided the best plan to get minho out of that hellhole. And they settled.

On Gameday, Sadira offered to walk with Janson and pointed out how something looked suspicious with teresa and her guards. Inevitablly, Janson approached the disguised gladers and it was there that they grabbed her as she sneakily snatched janson's all building access card. She was with them under the ruse of a hostage, just so that Ava doesn't get suspicious and look too closely.

When they found out Minho was moved, it was only because of Sadira and another test subject that they could pinpoint Minho's exact location.

However, she should have probably thought to warn him in some way that she was on their side. Maybe then Minho wouldn't have mistakened her for the enemy and slammed her into the wall once they did find him. ouch.

The escape after that was mostly smooth sailing, there were no losses and only minor setbacks. But those don't matter enough to be mentioned here. [Authors Note: I didn't have it in me to kill off newt so don't blame me] Ofcourse, Sadira almost dying while protecting minho doesn't fall under minor setbacks but she would have done that for any glader.

When she woke up in the 'refugee' a few days later, minho was the first person she spoke to. The conversation flowed much more smoothly when her formerly alive mother (that was fun to find out) wasn't watching over them, she joked. And he laughed. And she thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world. So she made him do it again, and again, and again. Until she finally realised she couldn't get enough of it.

They moved fast. From touches, to kisses, to something more. But it was never in the sense that it was too much to handle, Instead it was in the sense that they had waited too long for each other and that they were desperate for this. Needy, even. Which was insane considering he barely knew her. Oh well.

First Kisses and First loves are obviously difficult post-apocalypse but hey, atleast it makes one hell of a story.

[laundrycolour]

Shupure x Nogizaka46 5th Generation: Ikeda Teresa (Shupure; 19.08.2024)

The case of Ikeda Teresa: a girl with an asset of her own.

19.08.2024

Last year, she went on to the Tokyo University of the Arts despite being an active member of Nogizaka46. Ikeda Teresa balances her activities as part of the group with her own life as a college student.

Ever since she can remember, she's loved drawing and making things with clay. It wasn't about trying to show the finished product to family, friends or anyone else, but rather about trying to leave behind a record of what she had in mind.

"Because I didn't have all that many friends when I was a child, I never went out to play. At all. I think I might've been shy but I also downright liked spending time by myself."

Even after she started primary school, she basically spent recess in her seat all by herself.

"I had true friends who liked the same manga as me, but we only talked about it here and there while remaining in our own seats. I also read a fantasy novel called 'The Beast Player' (by Uehashi Nahoko) [= novel series which focuses on a girl who can control the greatest of beasts as she gets involved in a war between two territories of one kingdom] while imagining what would happen were I to enter that world. The fact that I like creating things or being alone may not have changed from those days."

So introverted and quiet she might be, but surprisingly, she joined the basketball club in junior high school. Something her elementary school teacher once told her prompted her to venture out.

"Our teacher always told us 'Don't only do the things you're good at' so vaguely, I thought that in junior high school I'd do something that I hadn't been involved with before. I guess I also felt that 'If I join the art club now, I probably won't stray from this path for the rest of my life.'"

This resulted in her continuing to play basketball for six years, up until her third year of high school. Around the same time, one of my friends invited me to one of Nogizaka46's handshake events.

"In the time right in between me finishing up my club-related activities and me single-mindedly focusing on the entrance exams, there happened to be a handshake event. I went out of pure curiosity, and Endo Sakura-san (4th generation) had been even cuter than I had imagined..... I remember returning home in a daze (laughs). After that, I started liking Nogizaka46 and was telling my friend 'Let's go back there once our entrance exams come to an end.' Ultimately, the COVID-19 pandemic hit and the chance [to do so] itself disappeared."

While still in high school, she didn't pass the entrance exam for Tokyo University of the Arts. While commuting to and from prep school, she'd find courage in Nogizaka46's songs.

Summer, her first year of college entrance exams. Listening to her friend's advice, she applies for the 5th generation audition.

At the time, her goal to the bitter end was to get into the Tokyo University of the Arts, so she applied for the audition light-mindedly.

"I'd applied almost half-jokingly but, as the screening process went on, somewhere in the back of my mind I was constantly thinking about the audition. Every now and again I'd come to my senses and think 'What am I even doing when I'm a student who's failed to pass the entrance exam and has to take it again?'..... Until I'd pass [the exam] as I'd wanted to, I kept thinking 'Don't take [the audition] so seriously. You're a repeat student.'"

After the audition - which she passed - and a tentative decision, she kept on preparing for the entrance exams for the Tokyo University of the Arts. At the time of the auditions, she once declared in a discussion with the staff that she'll 'quit taking the exam'.

"But the staff told me, 'What you're trying to do will absolutely stand you in good stead in the future. Which is why, it's okay if you don't give up on taking the entrance exam.' That meant a lot to me. Had they told me on the spot to quit taking the exam, I most likely would have stopped then and there, and....... I think I could have become someone who wouldn't have been able to work hard since I would've felt as if I were 'running away' from something I had decided on when I was a child.

To tell you the truth, taking the exam for the second time while working as a member of Nogizaka46 was pretty tough. But, them having told me that [I'd be allowed to take it] for the second year meant that I couldn't even consider throwing the chance away."

There were times when the exams would be overlapping with the Birthday Live rehearsals and performances. And yet this girl, with one strong sense of responsibility, admirably passed the exams for the Tokyo University of the Arts.

"Saying it like this may sound strange but, I'm the type of person who can work hard if I think of a task as 'my job [to do]'. As for Nogizaka46, I felt like I could do it because I think my life is different from what it used to be."

The recruitment period for the 6th generation was open until June. In her message for the people applying, Ikeda said 'What Nogizaka46 gave me = [yet] another asset, [yet] another life.'"

Now she makes use of her previous experiences and background in her work, such as creating visuals for special exhibitions and TV programmes, and is leading a life she never could have imagined, precisely with her very own assets.

[jodilin65]

SATURDAY, MARCH 31, 2001 Brea got me up for my hour out at 8:30. I knew I’d be first today so I was glad to have fallen asleep a little earlier last night. I was still a little tired, though, and was napping peacefully around noon, when Mattie, thanks to the fucking bitch next door, yelled over to Maria for her. I asked Mattie not to do that again and she said she understood and was cool about it. Meanwhile, the typical Mexican bitch couldn’t handle the idea of being asked not to be so rude and she just had to go yelling, screaming, banging on the desks, banging on the wall, banging on everything. I cannot believe how immature some people can be! I mean, these people are how old? Well, I guess I’ll have to be just as immature and give it right back to the bitch at 2 AM when she’s sleeping.

Got a letter from Tom, saying he thought he’d write more to make up for the loss of our Thursday visits. I was hoping he would. I love his letters.

He got vacation time approved for 4/30 - 5/4.

He said the rats have been good to him, not biting him or dashing out the open door. He put both water bottles in the cage so Harry would have something familiar from the tank, where he first lived. That way he’s not paranoid about forgetting to check the water, either, he said.

He ripped the mural like I knew he would when Tom wasn’t watching. We’re just surprised it took him this long. Anyway, I may not want to bother trimming the mural, depending on how damaged it is. I may just want to put up with it as it is for a year or so, then replace it. We’ll do a better job next time, now that we’ve had some experience. It’s just hard as hell to line up and keep air bubbles out!

He told me about installing new computers at work, testing and ordering supplies, etc. Instead of getting paid overtime, he’ll get extra time off.

He also says the garden’s still OK, but the prairie dogs have eaten the tops of the corn. What’s really weird is that we’ve got onions and wheat coming up in the front! Apparently, some of the food I’d throw out for them is sprouting this stuff.

Brea gave me an extra brunch sack for helping her serve. I took the juices and donuts. I told her I was going to pass Peaches the shitty salami, and she didn’t see it.

“Nope. I didn’t see it,” she said.

Misery would’ve wanted to write me up just for mentioning it.

Knowing how people tend to go the opposite way in which you steer them, I decided to write Teresa a note, saying I’m so so very sorry for yelling at her for yelling. I was just in a foul mood that day. Meanwhile, she can do what she wants.

Also, I need all the sleep I can get being on the schedule I’m on, so it’s too soon to be having problems with anyone in here if I can help it.

I can’t believe Chavez just passed a kite for me (my note to Teresa)! Chavez is pretty strict, so I’m surprised she did it. She wouldn’t even let next door out to make a phone call.

By accident, I got Teresa and her cellies really pissed off at me! I commented on her friend’s bruised face, or so I thought it was bruised, asking who had beat her like that. Well, according to Teresa, that was rude of me. But the bitch’s face really does look bruised! I guess this is just how her complexion naturally is, though.

Anyway, they drummed on their desks like children, and from here on out, I am in no mood to reconcile with anyone I may have a beef with over the next 28 days. I’ll give them exactly what they give me.

Dinner was good. We had chicken fried steak, salad, bread, instant mashed potatoes, a donut and asparagus, of all vegetables! It was so good! Who would donate such an expensive veggie?

“It’s not pop,” Chavez was telling the trustee. “It’s soda.”

I agree. She’s from the east too (New York), so we both call it soda.

The temperature in here has been pleasant. For some strange reason, it’s cold during the day but nice at night. Even warm. I’ve had to sleep in my underwear, but that’s more comfortable than sleeping in baggy stripes or gowns that twist all around you in your sleep.

Got a kite from Teresa saying she didn’t accept my apology, they’re not usually rude, we all have to live here, etc.

Fine, I replied. Don’t accept my apology, and you’re right – we all have to live here, so let’s just ignore each other (I don’t know if she’ll let me ignore her, though).

Teresa’s just another asshole. And yelling back and forth with someone stuck in the middle of it is rude. She accused me of being what she is – inconsiderate. And who the hell is she to tell me to sleep at night? And why? Because she does? She’s a selfish, ungrateful bitch. This is what I get after all I gave to her and did for her when she first got here. I showed her the ropes, got her set up with the phone, gave her shampoo, gave her a hair elastic, told her which DOs to look out for, and gave her a tube of lipstick which she said she’d give me 6 envelopes for, but after pushing, I only got two of them before I finally gave up on her. I won’t even mention all the emotional support I gave her. She’s a spoiled bitch!

FRIDAY, MARCH 30, 2001 Now that I’ve calmed down a bit, I’ll do some writing. I have the radio on to drown out the asshole that’s screaming on the phone.

Those fucking nurses! I’m sick of being woken up to be asked if I’m OK.

No, I’m not OK, you ass-wipes! Haven’t they figured that out yet?! It used to be they just wanted to see you move to make sure you were alive, but this one told me to say something, and I was like, “Now I have to say something, too?”

Well, I said something, all right!

Then the damn coffee cart came. Why the fuck do they have to make such a production out of the fucking thing? Can’t they just serve those who are awake and interested? Fucking greedy assholes!

I couldn’t fall back asleep. I was too pissed. And Tomaszewski’s on my shit list now, too. She fucking went out of her way to wake me up!

It’s change of shift now. It looks like Felix is on. Cool! I can call Tom. I really need his shoulder to cry on. First I was pissed and now I’m depressed. I really should’ve killed myself 5 months ago. I really should’ve. Every time I get ahead in life, it seems I just get set back. What’s the point in trying?

Talked to Tom, who helped calm me down and cheer me up at the same time with his words of encouragement. Doesn’t mean I believe him, though. I’m still not sure things will work out. I don’t believe shit till I see it. I’m a pessimist, remember?

Although I’ll miss seeing him twice a week, we agreed it’s best to use all our time on Tuesdays. We can’t see each other on Thursdays anymore, and Sundays are a zoo. So, we’ll have 4 more visits and I’ll have 4 more times where I’m stuck in that stuffy little closet waiting for rude DOs that are busy fucking around.

He’s going to put in $50 a week for the next 3 weeks, so I can have $30 for commissary and $20 for the coffee cart, even though it sometimes comes too early.

We had that gross ostrich meat with real, but bland potatoes and rotten zucchini.

Felix gave me an extra donut. “Shhh,” she said.

It’s got to be a secret, but why did she give me an extra one anyway? Well, whatever the reason, that was very nice of her.

She keeps asking if I’m OK, too.

I must look pretty shitty.

Peaches and Sarah (the one that’s all skin, bones and tats) got into it, so Sarah moved in with Jamie.

THURSDAY, MARCH 29, 2001 Nottelmann’s on now.

Because I napped so long yesterday I was up till 5 AM. I chatted with Jones. She’s gay, too. After just 4 hours of sleep, the usual commotion woke me up.

Barajas caught me talking to next door on my hour out, and me talking to Teresa on her hour out.

“You should know better,” she said in a shame-on-you tone of voice. I laughed in her face real loud and she shook her head and made like she was going to tear the hair out of her head.

Then when I saw her downstairs passing out aspirin, I called out that I wanted some. “You’re not getting anything, S!” she jokes.

Right before she left I asked her if I drove her too crazy, and she surprised me by saying no and that she’d put in a request to come back before I left. “I promise you,” she said, “but you have to behave.”

A hearing officer came to see me about a grievance I had put in. This is the first time one’s ever seen me about a grievance. It was the one bitching about how long it was taking for my last inhaler. Anyway, I told him I received it right after I submitted that grievance. “That’s how it always works,” he said.

Jill made her rounds today. She shocked me by stopping by to see me, saying it would be a while before she’d see us again (I guess she won’t be rearranging us any time soon). She said to put in a tank to her if I wanted out.

No way will I return to Tent City! The bugs alone are enough to keep me indoors.

I asked, and Nottelmann said that Rosa went to GP, but that was months ago and she doesn’t even know if she’s still here. That’d be a damn good sign if she wasn’t here because that’d most likely mean they dropped her case because she couldn’t have made the million-dollar bail, and she wouldn’t be convicted and DOCd that fast, either. If she’s free, I doubt I’ll ever be able to find her, and if she is, she probably went back to Mexico. I’ll ask Tom to check, but she could be in the tents. According to Jamie, I dorm is now for unsentenced tent people.

You can’t always trust what Jamie says, though. She’s so contradicting, saying she hates noise and is a quiet person. As Hope pointed out, she’s not quiet. And if she hates noise, how could she stand the tents?

Why can’t people just admit what they are?

Last night I told the juvi next to me to tell Maria, the girl that Laticia’s been yelling with, that her friend went to A Tower. I guess she’s buying it so far because I haven’t been sandwiched between any shouting matches yet today.

Today I splurged and bought a strawberry and a grape soda along with my hot chocolate.

I’m sooo fucking pissed! Just when I get unpissed, something goes and pisses me the fuck off again! Aaarrrggghhh!!!

I flushed the fucking hot dog down the toilet as soon as I got up here with my tray. I’m so sick of even seeing the fucking things!

Joe, have I got plans for you, you mother-fucking, scum-sucking deranged dickhead from hell!

Oh, what I would give to shove these fucking weenies down the throats of every sick, demented shithead involved in putting me here! Better yet, I’d just cuff them to a chair and pour pepper straight from its container right down their slimy little throats, and I’d make sure to get plenty up their noses, too. The fucking psycho judge expects me to live on spice and dead salad for half a year, then live my life according to a script that he and others who don’t even know me write out for me? I don’t fucking think so! They can all go fuck themselves and shove these weenies up their assholes while they’re at it!

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 28, 2001 During yesterday’s visit with Tom, I was telling him something that’s true, yet funny. They forced psych meds down my throat as a kid, but in this place, as an adult, I’ve asked for them, yet no one will give them to me. I can’t believe I survived 5 months in this place without any meds!

Teresa’s friend, whose name is Laticia, has been driving me crazy. She’s louder than hell and she’s been yelling back and forth to one of the juvies. The door to the juvi pod is right outside my door, and this juvi’s been coming to the door screaming back and forth with her. It’s totally loud, rude and obnoxious. I screamed at them for it, but they just don’t get it. Typical loud, selfish Mexican!

Garcia woke me up for God only knows what. Sometime between 3 AM – 7 AM I was startled awake by the sound of the key opening the door. I know that reflexively, I gasped and turned towards her. As soon as I did this she left. She left pretty fast too, and I don’t think she even took two steps inside the door. But what would she have done if I hadn’t been such a light sleeper and woken up so fast? And why did she come in here? I hope she’s on again before I leave because I intend to ask her about it if she is.

Marilyn was so right when she commented on how fast the time goes out there, but in here it goes so fucking slow!

Tom gave me the first letter of one of my Christmas gifts, saying it’s a tool to help me do something I like to do, but I can’t figure that one out. He said he didn’t want to give me the first letter of all the gifts, or else I’d guess what they were. That told me I might have a doll waiting for me, because if he had said the letter ‘d’, that’d be my first guess.

Got a letter from him today. His letters really keep me going! He said he may work from home every now and then. That’d be great!

He says he hasn’t picked out a new dentist or audiologist yet, but I don’t need an audiologist. I need an otologist to clean out this canal.

He says the peas and corn are doing well, but it’s too soon to tell how the others are going to do.

I may’ve forgotten to mention this, but yesterday I received the civil complaint papers, but it’s all Greek to me! I’m going to wait till I get out of here and do it with Tom unless I really do ignore the PO, which will be my decision. If I abscond I can’t sue Joe or expose the pig.

TUESDAY, MARCH 27, 2001 Came back from visitation furious. I’m so pissed off right now that I could probably knock Mike Tyson out with one punch! Oh, I am so sick of being controlled and treated like a child! I’m so sick of the fucking power play!

This power-tripping bitch named Woodruff was rudely sitting, goofing off with other DOs. Meanwhile, I’m fucking sitting in that hot, stuffy little room just waiting for the fucking bitch to come and get me, or at least call for an escort. I would’ve let the bitch have it without caring if I got “written-up,” if she didn’t come and get me when she did. I’d have been like, “Fine. Here’s my ID, here’s my name. Write me the fuck up if it makes you happy.”

I’m just so fucking sick of being shit on and being people’s little puppet. People wonder why I’m so bitter and angry. One can only be pushed so far. My whole life is nothing but what others say I have to do. I’m beyond fed up! I realize that being a DO is tough work, but I don’t think they realize that they’re not invincible. Yes, they’re like Gods in here who can do no wrong and who can do anything they want to us and get away with it, but I don’t think they understand that once we get out of here, we’re no longer powerless against them. Legal action, if necessary, can be taken against them at that point and it may not get them fired, but it’d mar their records for life.

Things are going to change drastically when I get out of here. No, I am not going to pay $40 a month. No, I am not going to take “classes.” No, I am not going to wait on the community. No, I am not going to see a therapist (unless I want to). And most importantly, no I am not going to see any damn PO. I’m sick of catering to this state, along with those who have used/abused the law against me. The state doesn’t own me. The freeloaders don’t own me. I own me, and once I’m out of here, nobody tells me what to do or where to go. I’m taking back my life when I get out of here, even if that means I won’t be able to expose the pigs/black bitch for what they are.

Saw Palma working J, but she never saw me. Too bad. I really wanted to return the evil glare. She sure looked hot, though.

MONDAY, MARCH 26, 2001 Vasquez was on earlier and now Hudgens is on.

I still worry about how life will be after I leave here. It’ll all work out, he says. Do you know how many times Mr. Optimist - no, Mr. Unrealistic - has said that? And way more often than not, things did not work out. Problems don’t solve themselves. People do. These freeloaders aren’t going to just go away. They started this shit, and whether I want to admit it or not, I know it’s going to be up to me to end it. But how? Ignore the PO like I should have ignored the courts?

SUNDAY, MARCH 25, 2001 I called and chatted with Tom earlier. His cold’s better, but he still has a cough.

He says Harry still screams like a guinea pig for no apparent reason.

As part of Captain Pisser’s orders to pick on M, Means searched today, though she made a game of it. She’s so funny. She put on her gloves saying, “I’m looking for a million dollars. Is it here?”

She lifted up a corner of my mattress.

“Is it here?”

She looked inside a bag.

Then she noticed the wads of toilet paper covering the vent and said, “You’re not really supposed to do this.”

“But you didn’t see it,” I said.

“No, I didn’t see it,” she said and left.

When I told her that Misery should have her name, she said people tell her that all the time.

The coffee cart’s selling soda now. Or “pop” as these silly fools out here call it. They want $1.50 for a 20-oz. bottle. What a rip-off! That’d be something like 79¢ on the outs. It’s still worth it in this place, though.

When Tate was on last night I told her I had 34 more days to go, and when she asked me how many hours I had left, I told her I’d have to figure that one out. I calculated 916 hours and informed her of this on her next walk. Laughing, she gave me a thumbs-up and told me she was going to ask me that every time she works here.

It’s hard to believe I’ve been alone for 2 weeks, with the exception of the 18 hours I was cursed with Jamie.

I’m still walking 20 minutes a day, but I don’t know why I bother. I’m still fatter than life itself.

I asked Lopez when my imaginary girlfriend (although I’ve been mentally dumping her for Johnson more and more these days) would return so I could chew her out but she has no idea.

One thing that will be different about leaving this place is that unlike with places I left as a kid, I’ll be going home to somebody who truly loves me and accepts me as I am. Not to people who want to abuse me verbally and emotionally, and mold me and shape me into what they think I ought to be.

I was just chatting with Hope and Jamie, who are out cleaning the dayroom. Jamie just found out that she is on restriction for sure. I offered to buy her candy for some envelopes. Her being on restriction worries me, though. Especially if Chambers works while she’s still on it. She’s funny and all that, but getting stricter. People seem to always move when she’s on. If she works here before she’s off restriction, she’ll put her alone in here.

SATURDAY, MARCH 24, 2001 Armstrong’s on now, and in a little while, I’ll know who’s next. I gave Sharon her lemon drop last night. Chavez got a kick out of it and was like, “But don’t you get meds?”

Got a nice long letter from Tom yesterday. In it, he explained their plans for new equipment at work, like digital cameras. Tom’s going to be training the people who are going to be operating the sorters. He said he got to meet a lot of the hotshots at the meeting and they had to discuss all the changes they plan on making.

He also mentioned the plants, saying it looks like we’re going to have a good crop of peas.

In our last visit, he said he was trying to set things up so there’d be money when I got out, and that’s really sweet of him, but not what’s most important. If we couldn’t spend any money on fun things for years – fine. As long as I’m with him and am free and we can get the necessities. I just want to get the fuck out of here, even though I’m going to miss the hell out of Johnson. I’d live in a tent in the worst part of Phoenix if it meant being free and with him!

My number one goal right now is to someday expunge these freeloaders from our lives for good. I feel as guilty as I do pissed. I’m sure he feels guilty too, telling me things would be OK at the sentencing, though I certainly don’t hold it against him. It’s not like he lied to me.

Maddox is on now. No Johnson. Bummer. There’s no denying I have a crush on that woman!

I slept a little better today because it’s the weekend. Weekends are probably going to be the only time I can sleep till I get stuck with a celly I can’t get rid of fast enough. Thank God I only have 5 more weeks to go, but even that’s way too long. I can tell it’s getting close, though, by the dreams I’ve been having. Dreams related to this place, but not the kind where I’m stuck here. Those won’t come till after I’m gone, but I’d rather that and to know that once I woke up, it was all just a nightmare. But while I’m here, it’s not just a dream. I have 35 more days before I can wake up from this nightmare.

FRIDAY, MARCH 23, 2001 LaBorde was on earlier and now Chavez is on.

When Chavez asked me why I moved, I simply told her I was told to move, so I did. I didn’t want to tell her what Johnson did. It isn’t her business anyway.

I trimmed my bangs for the last time. I’m now actually pretty damn good at trimming these bangs with nail clippers!

I was talking to Hope next door. She says she doesn’t like Jamie. She mouthed the words to me, but I think Jamie knew we were talking about her. The girl just never shuts up. And all she talks about is God and the demons that supposedly possess her. I talked to Jamie later, and she says she misses the tents and likes those better. Good, because M Dorm can do without her.

THURSDAY, MARCH 22, 2001 My tank was returned to me, asking me to be specific about what kind of paperwork I needed – federal or superior.

Visited with Tom for an hour today. We’re both getting so excited about my release as it gets closer!

He still has a cold but is improving.

He got another raise and promotion at work. He’s now getting a salary, too.

We discussed it today, and I’m not going back to the same dentist. We got a new dental plan, and although they accept it, I may as well play it safe and find someone closer.

I had another idea about what could’ve earned me that evil look from Palma. Before she came and got Silvia, she and Johnson were in the tower talking. Palma probably asked her why she had to come get Silvia when all Johnson had to do was put me in 4 or 5 or leave me where I was since the Spanish lady wasn’t closed custody. Johnson would’ve told her something like how I preferred to be alone and Palma couldn’t have really argued with her because Palma wasn’t working M that night. Johnson was. Anyway, if this is true, then Palma might’ve been ticked off at me for making more paperwork for her. And so late in her shift, too. Ha, ha, ha!

When Temple saw I was still awake, she stopped and chatted with me for about 10 minutes. Mostly about my leaving. I asked her if she’d like the honor of kicking me out when the time comes (I’m hoping she or Pérez will be here that night). She asked me what day I was leaving and I told her. She said it wasn’t a DOC pickup night, so it shouldn’t be so busy. She agreed she’d walk me out of here, or at least to the door for the escort to take over from there. That’d be so cool.

Wouldn’t it shock the media to know that a black woman was going to see me to the finish line?

Dinner was at 7:00. Hot dogs, veggies, potatoes and a donut. I could smell the fucking jalapeños from inside the hot dogs before I even opened the Styrofoam container they were in that we’re back to. I like that better than the brown trays, though. They’re easier to carry and they keep the heat in better.

Mena just offered me some Tylenol. I stashed it for later. I love how she leaves the cell smelling of her perfume. I miss my perfumes and my pink, glittery kiwi-strawberry lip gloss.

Every staff member at the Brattleboro Retreat that I was in in 1981 in Vermont was white. Here there’s a variety, which I like better.

Early this morning when I was sound asleep, I suddenly heard this voice saying, “Jodi, honey. It’s your hour out. It’s 8:00,” but I was too tired. I was beat for days, so I slept in till 10:30. Anyway, before I realized it was Bangert, I thought it was Jamie and was like – how the fuck did you get back in here!

When I was at the entry door with Bangert waiting for an escort, Barajas was across the way in K’s door talking with Bangert. Bangert was bitching about how the tower’s either too hot or too cold. Then I commented on the fact that it was so hot in my cell that I slept in my underwear (only women work M because only one DO works M and it can’t be a man. Men have to work with other women as they do in the towers). Then Barajas jokingly yells out, “Quit complaining, S!”

When I mentioned having 37 days left, she teased me by saying she wouldn’t have them put her in M while I was still here, and I said that was too bad because I missed her. After all, I miss driving her crazy.

“She does drive me crazy,” she told Bangert.

When I returned after my visit, I was telling Bangert how nice it was that I was taller than her. She insisted I wasn’t, so we stood side by side and looked at our reflections in the tower door, which is mostly glass like the big cell’s doors.

She was right. She is slightly taller. She’s old enough to start shrinking, though, but I didn’t tell her that.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 21, 2001 Still not caught up on my sleep. This is the third day where I slept shitty and am tired. Maybe I can catch up tonight, but I won’t hold my breath. I want to get caught up before another celly who can’t shut up comes in to distract me, but I’ll explain what I mean by that one in a minute.

Anyway, the night Johnson was on, we joked and talked as usual. At one point I decided it was time to find out if Deanna and Teresa could be right, so I decided to do a little flirting with her. I was exercising and had my shirt off. I just had my bra and pants on. On the other hand, this isn’t all that unusual around here. Girls hang out in their cells in just their bras all the time. Some don’t even bother with the pants and just wear the cotton granny panties they have that have enough material to cover a car with (I miss skimpy satiny panties you could floss your teeth with).

Anyway, while I was jogging, Johnson came in to collect trash. She didn’t see me at first because she had her head turned toward someone in 1 that she was talking to. When she did see me, she blushed and quickly looked away for a second. It was rather hilarious, actually, seeing her face turn as red as her hair! I said I was sorry for embarrassing her and she said, “No problem. I’ve seen people in their underwear before.” Meanwhile, the elastic was stretched out on part of the bra and she called for another one for me. “What are you? A small?” she asked me.

“No, these are mediums, believe it or not,” I said.

Deanna and Teresa were obviously wrong, though. She couldn’t be attracted to me. Why would she blush like that if she was? This was an uncomfortable kind of blush, I think. Maybe I ought to back off.

When I was rolled up and ready to move from 2 up to 3, Palma, without saying a word, came in to get Silvia and gave me the meanest, most evil look that shocked the shit out of me. I was like – what the fuck did I do?!

I heard her ask Johnson if I was rolled up. I thought that was a weird question since I wasn’t going to A Tower with her. I later asked Johnson about this hateful glare I received, but she said not to worry about it and that she just had that evil look.

Yeah, well I’ll be treating Palma the same way I treated Christoffers by giving her a taste of her own meds. I respect those who respect me and I snob those who snob me. I’ve always believed in treating people like I want to be treated, yet treating people like they treat me, too. Palma can go fuck herself. Besides, I like Johnson better and she’s getting better looking by the minute, too. I’ve always been attracted to Johnson, but it seems to be growing lately. It’s like each time she’s on, my attraction’s intensified a bit more. I tried to will it away and tell myself – she’s not your type. You like dark. Not black dark because that’s getting a little too dark, but Palma-dark with the bronze skin, ebony eyes, and jet black hair.

It didn’t work. There’s just something about this redhead and her vibrant personality that turns me right on. She really went out of her way for me, and the more I get to know her, the more I like her and am attracted to her.

After I got settled in 3, I teased Johnson about her blushing. She admitted she was shy after I explained to her that because I’m not, I sometimes forget others sometimes are. I told her I had been an exotic dancer at one time.

She said she was sorry my “Victoria’s Secret” didn’t arrive, but she ordered it. She said not to have any nightmares or wacky dreams, either. We were laughing about that for a few, then she left for the night.

I told her about the dream I had about running into her in a grocery store and how we gave each other a big hug. (that one made her smile) Then, when I stepped back and glanced away for a second before looking back at her, she’d turned into Mena!

I was telling her how I was sick of being hit on by these skanky cellies I’ve been getting at times, and she said, “That’d make you uncomfortable, huh?”

Yeah, they’re just not as good-looking as you are.

“Yeah, kind of.”

I’ve been hit on more in this jail than in any bar I’ve been to in my 20s, and you’d think I’d be in heaven for a woman who likes women, but I’m not the least bit flattered by what’s hit on me here.

Kahn worked yesterday and was as sweet as could be. I really thought she was going to spite me.

I gave Sharon a lemon drop Monday night saying, “You didn’t really tell Johnson you like lemon drops like she told me you did, did you?” (I had offered them to Johnson, but she doesn’t like lemon) Anyway, I keep them for Sharon and any beggars I may get in here.

I gave some to Jamie, the one thing Kahn did sic on me that wasn’t very nice. She stuck me with this obnoxious 18-year-old who couldn’t shut up. She was rather delusional too, saying that she had demons pinning her down to her bed at times (she should have them pin Johnson on me).

Jamie was pretty with a nice smile and wavy brown hair to the middle of her back. She was of average height and weight. Her only drawback was her evil-looking gray eyes.

I was so glad to hear her express interest in being in a big cell, so I got Dixon to move her the following day. Kahn wouldn’t go for it, so I asked Dixon, who was hesitant at first, saying she didn’t like to move people. We even had Jamie splash a few drops of water on her face to make it look like she’d been crying over feeling claustrophobic in here.

Teresa, believe it or not, is back in 2. That’s because she and that Spanish lady are friends and she knows no English.

The older lady in 5, whose name is Mattie, has been alone for 2-3 weeks. Why can’t I be alone for the next 2-3 weeks?! Why can’t they put people in with her for a change? Kahn probably thought Jamie and I would be a good match, judging by our appearance and by us being closer in age. Both of us had our hair in pigtails, too. I told Fisher that if someone comes into Ad-Seg tonight – I don’t want them!

She laughed.

Am I really that amusing?

It’s 90° out. Hearing that shit is depressing, but at least it’s warmer up here on the upper tier. I’m just sooo beat. God, I hope I get caught up on my sleep!

Although my bad vibes about having to change careers all for something I’m supposed to have written are fading a bit, I still dread meeting the PO. On the other hand, I’m starting to pick up vibes about a home job, other than homemaking/farming. I don’t know what it could be, though. It’s not that I don’t want to work other than as a homemaker, I just can’t work out of the house due to my lack of transportation and the way I clash with people. It just really pisses me off when the courts try to force “standard” rules on people. Well, I’m not your fucking standard person, OK? Everybody’s different.

This world is so fucked up. Sometimes I really hate life and the people in it. It’s OK for newspapers to write lies about people they don’t even know, but I can’t privately send a piece of my mind to the people who harassed us for years like I did with the journal excerpts. What’s scary is that anything can be legally perceived as a threat. I can write to someone saying that their house is an ugly color and all they have to do is say that they see that as a threat, and then I’m fucked right there.

The bulk of my life has been miserable and it always will be, no matter where I go or what I do. There’s no sense in trying to kid myself on that one. The question is – when am I going to get fed up enough to end it all? I’m such a sucker to go on living in this crazy world!

MONDAY, MARCH 19, 2001 I didn’t know the DO’s uniforms included shorts. Kitchen wore shorts today.

Some nurse finally brought me my inhaler.

Teresa pled not guilty and was rescheduled for May. She’s still trying to get her bond reduced.

When Johnson came on I just couldn’t bring myself to snob her. I just didn’t have the heart to do it because other than that one time she snapped at me, she’s been so cool. She’s the only one that really truly cares about me in this place and has my best interest at heart.

When I asked her if she was still mad at me she said, “Nope.”

Of course, I still don’t know why she ever got mad at me in the first place, simply for asking to move. Just because it was a hectic night and she was feeling overworked; that was no reason to take it out on me. I’ll just give it right back to her next time.

I asked her to guess how many more days I had left, and as I figured she would, she guessed high at 57 when I really have 40 days left. We kind of have this little game we play. Then she was teasing me as she walked away about party hats and party streamers waiting for me at home. I couldn’t hear everything she said. Can’t hear shit in here and it pisses me off and it frustrates me.

M203 (my final move)

Dinner came an hour earlier, but I’m still going to go ahead with the lawsuit, and so’s Mary. Although it filled me, the portions were skimpy, we got no fruit or salad, and 11 hours between meals is still too long. We got a chicken patty with a fairly generous serving of instant mashed potatoes because that’s starch and two bites’ worth of veggies. We got crackers for dessert and a half-pint of milk. The amount we got couldn’t fill your average person. Fortunately for me, I fill up much faster than normal.

Anyway, I’m back in 3 where Johnson moved me last night at around 10:00. I didn’t even ask. She just moved me. This is the longest I’ve ever been alone here – one full week.

What happened was that that lady who speaks no English, who was here for a very brief time when Maria was here, returned last night. She obviously needs to be on the lower tier, so Johnson rolled me up, saying I’d still be alone, but I had to go to 3 where Silvia was getting ready to go to A Tower.

How incredibly sweet of Johnson to do this so I could still be alone! She made poor Silvia go to A Tower so I wouldn’t have to have a celly! I could hug her for it. Actually, I could do a little more than that, but I won’t get into that right now.

The story gets strange, though, and it involves Palma, but I’ll write about it later. I’m beat. Fell asleep late and got woken up for a million different things. Why does everything have to happen around here between 6 AM - 11 AM, including Myra’s mouth? I’m just glad I’m not vented to that mouth anymore!

SUNDAY, MARCH 18, 2001 I knew it. I just knew it. The men are already beginning to riot. They’re punching out DOs. Well, what did Joe expect? Did he really think he could cut the food to near starvation and get away with it without there being any problems? That stupid, stupid fuck! I can’t believe the little shit is still alive! Someone’s going to kill the bastard if he doesn’t quit this shit! Who does he think he is? God? I never met a greedier psycho in my life. He’s another Hitler, in a sense. It’s like there are no boundaries as to how far he’ll go.

Mary, Myra, Peaches and I discussed filing a lawsuit. Not to my surprise, Tomaszewski refused us the paperwork to do so, but it’s OK for her not to do the things she’s supposed to do. She’s not an inmate. She says she’ll call the sergeant, but I won’t believe it till I see one.

Supposedly, Hitler was reelected by the people of Sun City because he’s older like they are. So he’s living it up as a control freak while he still can.

I’m suing without a lawyer since I know those can’t be trusted. I know I’ll lose either way because nobody sides with an inmate, but I’m not going to just sit back and take it, either. I’ve got to do something.

It’s like I’m being punished for all I had and for all I ran from. I ran from noise and the city itself, only to be thrown right back into it. I could sleep and I had food, and now I’m being deprived of it. It’s either starve, live on starch, or live on commissary junk. I’m going to load up on commissary to get me through the long 13-hour stretches. I’ll get huge as a house living on sugar for the next 40 days, but I don’t give a fuck anymore because I don’t care to diet Estrella style!

It’s comforting to know we’re safe in these cells if there’s a big riot. At least, I hope we would be!

When I was bitching to Mary about how we inmates are powerless against the DOs, she said that hasn’t been true for her. She said some German DO threatened her last year and she got her kicked out of Estrella and transferred to Madison.

After asking Nottelmann, who’s on now, she told me to tank ILS (inmate legal services) for the lawsuit paperwork, so Mary, who had an extra tank, gave me one and I did. Nottelmann says they have 72 hours to give me the paperwork.

I’m also grieving Medical. It shouldn’t take 3 days for a fucking inhaler.

Sharon, please be on tomorrow night!

She’s the only reliable nurse who cares.

I’ve been trying to reach Tom for the last couple of hours, but I haven’t caught him. I think he’s online.

Mary said that the argument next door was over commissary. She was like, “My commissary is my commissary.”

That’s how I feel. I’m not obligated to feed indigents, although my heart truly goes out to them.

Nottelmann says she sympathizes with us. They all seem to except for Tomaszewski. Maybe Tomaszewski needs to spend a few days here with us in M Dorm. She could even stay with me!

Dinner came an hour earlier at 8:30 but 12 hours is still ludicrous. It was good, though. We had chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, salad and cake with ice cream. A nice big piece, too. It was more than I could eat at once. They really need to spread this food out and feed us at normal hours – 8 AM, noon and 6 PM.

It’d be nice if commissary could come around 3 PM tomorrow in the middle of the long stretch. It won’t, though. It’ll come around dinner time.

I called Tom who agrees this isn’t right. He encouraged me with the lawsuit, which means a lot to me to know he’s on my side and supportive of me. He said to file the necessary papers, even if I think it’s worthless.

SATURDAY, MARCH 17, 2001 Took a nap earlier. I figured I would because Mouth woke me up at 8 AM on its hour out.

Brea was on earlier and now Felix is on. She’s pretty cool.

Brea and Chavez totally sympathize with the long stretch of hunger M Dorm must endure between meals, and how it’s OK for the jail to slack off on its duties and responsibilities, but not for us.

For days we’ve been asking for grievances and tanks and were told they’re out of them. It’s their fucking job to keep these things stocked up, but truthfully, I don’t buy it. They’re not out of them. They just don’t want to deal with everyone bitching about the food. Brea finally got me some today. I know they’re useless. I just use them to vent, along with these journals. This time I didn’t even bother to bitch about the same old, overspiced shit we usually get. I just let them know that 13 hours between meals is too long. And why must we be charged $30 a month for donated food?

There was a security override last night because according to Chavez, there were problems in the dorms. They were probably pissed off with the food situation. I’m surprised the men haven’t rioted, although I think they eat earlier than we do.

Chavez says she dreads working in the dorms tomorrow night.

Oh, boo-hoo, Chavez! What a hard life you have. Why don’t you try being an inmate in this place?

Mary, who says the media follows her every time she goes to court, says she’s going to give them a piece of her mind regarding Joe, rather than the usual “no comment.”

Mary and Peaches were arguing earlier. If someone as easy-going as Mary has problems with Mouth and Peaches, imagine if I were with them! I’d kill them both, although I’d refuse to be with them before I got the chance. Even if that meant I had to go to A Tower.

Brea searched today but didn’t take anything. She ignored my extra underwear and barely went through anything. When I commented on how there’s been a lot of searches lately, she said the new captain’s a real pisser (something she swore she’d adamantly deny saying) and for some reason, M is his pet dorm to pick on.

I called Tom today and told him about the food arrangement. As always, he gave me strength and a little bit of hope that said - maybe things will be OK out there, though I must see it to believe it. He reminded me that no matter what the PO is like, I still have to be transferred. Yeah, but what if that one’s a nightmare, too?

Anyway, I love that man and don’t know what I’d do without him. I can’t wait to leap into his arms the day I get out of here! I miss all we used to do together and look forward to all that we will do together (as long as this state and its freeloaders don’t drive me to suicide). I still haven’t figured out what he sees in me. Aren’t I nothing but one big burden and expense? Sometimes I feel like I’ve done him way more harm than good and like I can never repay him for all he’s done for me. I can stand to think of him and Houdini more often now without cracking up because it’s getting closer.

Felix saw me crying and came in to ask if I was OK. That was nice of her to care enough to ask. I told her I’d be OK. I just get a little homesick. It’s getting closer (exactly 6 weeks) but not fast enough! Been here 20 weeks, 140 days.

They say it’s going to be 85° Monday, while I sit and freeze my ass off in this cold, wintry cell.

Tom says the prairie dogs are out. Can’t wait to see them!

I don’t know how it is that using Palmolive dish-washing soap for shampoo, with no conditioner, has made my hair as soft as silk, but it has. And this jailhouse brush is a miracle at keeping knots out. I’m going to buy a new one to take home with me the week before I leave.

Mouth’s bitching about starving again. As much as I love to hate Mouth, she’s got a point – this is crazy. Totally, totally crazy. And I’m hungry as hell, too.

Maybe they’re trying to make more money by doing this. By starving us, they probably think that people will buy more from commissary. I know I’ll be buying more!

We had the hot dogs I expected we’d have. I ate half of it because I was so hungry and they weren’t overly spicy tonight. The rice, corn and bagels alone were enough to fill me, but what about the salad and dessert we’re supposed to have every night? We never got that.

Myra surprised me by asking if I was OK over here.

Why does she care?

I’m barely OK.

I hope Sharon or somebody comes with a new inhaler tomorrow because mine’s completely dead. Although I can go a few days without it, asthma gets progressively worse the longer it goes untreated.

I can actually hear bass thumping every now and then, though very faintly. We must be near a street, although those car stereos can be heard for miles and miles.

I’m looking forward to stupid little things like burning the manila envelope that carted around my papers while in here, and that also served as my calendar (I drew one on it in November). I stand it up, leaning against the wall.

FRIDAY, MARCH 16, 2001 I’ve been sleeping a little better now that we don’t have the 5 AM interruption.

Atkinson got me the broom, mop and nail clippers when I asked for them, so I don’t know what to make of her, and Mena’s never all that friendly anyway.

Nancy and Peaches went to court today. I’ll feel bad for Nancy if she goes to prison. She’s so nice. Peaches says the only way she’ll leave Ad-Seg is if they give her a two-for-one. I hope they do. The fewer people I don’t like in the pod, the better. Then I don’t have to worry about getting stuck with them. I just wish Myra would hurry up and get out of here! If she’s still here at the end of the month, then she’ll probably be here for the rest of the time I’m here.

I still dread meeting with this PO, so afraid she’s going to have me thrown back in here on some fictitious violation. Once again, regardless of how she is, I can’t do what I can’t do. Period. She can try and demand I jump to the moon, but I can’t do the impossible. I refuse to rearrange my whole life for something I’m supposed to have written. I lost 6 months of my life to these freeloaders. They stole my freedom and they’re not about to steal my life, too. That’s just getting ridiculous, unfair and asking too much of me. But nothing’s been fair yet when it comes to me and my freeloader problems, so why should they be when I get out of here?

Anyway, I hope this shit for a PO (if I report to her) will allow Tom to accompany me. I’d certainly feel more comfortable.

After thinking about it, I’m not sure I should return to the same dentist. These people are in my mouth, so if anything they’ve heard has pissed them off, there’s no telling what they might do, although I’m sure they’d still be the same. No sense in taking chances, though.

I just want to know how the murderers, rapists and child abusers/molesters don’t always make the paper, but the journalist does. Even druggies don’t make the paper as much.

And how did the guy who burned a child’s hand on a stove (Nancy told me this one) receive just 5 years of probation and no jail time? Was it just for being a guy?

Both Nancy and Peaches received continuances on their cases. How cruel! I know why they do it, though. To punish the person by making them have to stay in jail longer (although they do get back time), to tease them with the suspense of not knowing what’s going to happen next, and to hopefully make more money if the person has money on their books.

Chavez just gave me my Kahn grievance back. It’s everything I expected it to be, with the sergeant protecting its own, saying that yelling for me to wait wasn’t being rude or disrespectful, it was orders given to me by an Officer.

Well, I’m sorry, but her tone of voice was rude and disrespectful and it was unnecessary and totally uncalled for. This sergeant wasn’t there. I was. Also, at 35 years of age, I don’t do “orders” from anybody. You just don’t tell me what to do, and I don’t care who you are or what the courts say.

I just thought of something that contradicts the pig being friends with the black bitch. If he’s her buddy, then why didn’t he come after me when I failed to appear in court on account of that subpoena I never got? I just don’t get that part of it. He took the time to drag me into the city for questioning, but not for a bench warrant?

Chavez just said it’s 6:00. Another 3½ hours till dinner.

I was surprised that with all the ice cream I ate last night it didn’t upset my belly like dairy tends to.

It’s been quiet next door for hours! Mouth must be sleeping for it to be this quiet.

Mary and Mouth just got into an argument next door, and Chavez was her usual threatening self, telling them to get along or she’d put their heads through the wall. I told Chavez she could put Mary in here if need be, but she said she isn’t moving anybody.

How the fuck does Mary stand that mouth that’s as loud as a black? How can she even hear her radio or concentrate on her writing?

Now the mouth is pissed that it’s 8:30 and dinner’s still not here. I’m pissed, too. I don’t like the 13-hour stretches between meals. I’m forced to save and eat all the damn bread to hold me over, but it doesn’t help much. I wish commissary sold some healthier stuff too, and not just junk because then I’d use them as a grocery store.

Oh, what these freeloaders have done to my life!!!

We got burritos tonight, but we got our old portions and not even the usual 2 pieces of bread. The potatoes were horrible. Totally inedible. They were loaded with pepper so bad the whole room smelled of it. We had milk instead of the usual sugar-water juice.

I’m considering letting Mr. Arpaio himself know that if we don’t start receiving our PM meal at 6:00, and that if some of this food doesn’t improve, I’ll file every lawsuit imaginable when I get out of here.

THURSDAY, MARCH 15, 2001 Chambers is on now. She’s way cool. I was teasing her about writing her up and told her a couple more jokes. She told me some, too. I’ll write them in. Two potatoes are standing on a street corner. How do you know which one’s a prostitute?

The one showing more skin.

Here’s one that’s great: A teacher asked her 1st-grade class how to spell the word ‘ear’. A bunch of hands went up and the teacher called upon Timmy.

“E-e-a-r,” he said.

The teacher told him he was wrong and called upon Susie.

“E-a-a-r,” she said.

The teacher told her she was wrong and called upon Johnny.

“E-a-r,” he said.

“Correct!” said the teacher. “Now put it in a sentence.”

Johnny pretended to take a hit off an imaginary joint and then said, “Ear,” as he made like he was passing it to someone.

Anyway. I was bitching to Chambers about the dual standards around here. The DOs can have all the shitty attitudes they want, but we get threatened with write-ups if we’re in a pissy-assed mood and we snap at them. (I feel like I’m reliving my childhood all over again! I’m back in Brattleboro and Valleyhead and I can’t get out!) She said she understood and she pulled me out of my dismal mood and got me laughing.

We even got to talking about my case and I was explaining to her why I was set up and all that. She was teasing me saying, “Yeah, you’re going to stalk me when you get out! I better watch out!”

I’m sure I’m not! I’d be willing to bet that a good 30% of these inmates are either completely innocent or here on trumped-up charges. Maybe more than that.

Jill was here earlier to see who wanted out and who didn’t.

They canceled visitation today, but Felix was kind enough to let me call Tom. Felix said she heard it was because they were moving some inmates, and Tom said something about a mock nuclear disaster drill. It pisses me off that I didn’t get to see him today.

Tom also said his meeting went well and that he’s going to put it in a letter. Can’t wait to read about that!

I only had 5 minutes, so I told him to read my journals and that’d tell him what’s going on.

After being bullshitted by two DOs, I finally got new pants from Lamm who was on 3rd shift. She was really nice and it turned out that I didn’t have to stay up all night and be her worst nightmare like I thought I was going to have to be in order to get the fucking pants. She promised me the pants, and although I pointed out that most DOs seem to think that promises were meant to be broken, I said I’d give her the benefit of the doubt.

Hope, the girl with Teresa and Nancy, was crying quite a bit. The older lady in 5 returned from court smiling, yet when Myra asked her how it went in court she gave her a thumbs down.

Yeah, that’s how it usually goes in court.

Everyone’s pissed off about the new eating arrangement and grieving it too, as if they think that’ll change things back to the way it was. Myra said on the phone to her cousin to tell her mom they’re starving her daughter.

Have they forgotten that their daughter’s 300 pounds? She’s a long way away from starving!

I’m not grieving because I know it wouldn’t do me any good and that they’ll still give us the same old shit. We’re just going to get extras on the sides we get with dinner.

It’s 9:00 now and we still haven’t had dinner. It’s been 13 hours since we were last fed. Naturally, the pig next door is fuming her ass off, but even I would appreciate it if they’d hurry up and get dinner here.

No wonder this psych case next door takes psych pills. She needs stronger doses, though! I just want to plug that mouth up with pads so bad!!! Every day, in between tissy fits, it’s laughing its ass off. How can someone in jail, looking at a zillion years in prison, laugh like that every day, and what the hell’s so fucking funny anyway? When she’s not bitching or crying, she’s laughing like this is all one big joke!

I wonder why they decided we should get 2,900 calories a day. Why such an odd number? That many calories a day is ridiculous. Especially for women.

Felix, the Spanish DO that’s on now, is really nice. Pretty too, but too big in the wrong direction.

We had ostrich meat patties, corn, peas, carrots, lima beans, broccoli, bread, mashed potatoes and a donut. I couldn’t eat it all. Then afterward, we each got a huge serving of cookies and cream ice cream. I couldn’t eat all that, either.

Felix came in and searched earlier, taking the ripped pants and a big plastic bag for moving that I swiped from the dayroom.

That’s right. Just take, take and take from Jodi S.

It’s OK, though. I can use commissary bags to move my shit with. I don’t bother rolling up my sheet and blanket anymore. I just take the whole mattress because most of them around here are flatter than pancakes. Big 200+ pound people like Myra and Silvia crush them flat in no time. They really should get new mattresses every few months. God knows they have the money.

If Myra’s gained nearly 100 pounds here, imagine how much she’ll gain in prison! I hear prison food is better and that you get more variety.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 14, 2001 Although I was up late last night (I scared Rylel when I asked her the time), I was up by 8:30 because of all that was going on – my hour out, which was too early, the coffee cart, clothes exchange.

After I got my pants I realized they were torn on one side from the hip to the knee.

“Sexy,” said Atkinson, who’s calling the laundry department for new ones.

Although we agreed she owed me 6 envelopes for the lipstick I gave her, Teresa only gave me one this week because she needed to write to her boys and job.

A new girl came in late last night. Rylel put her in with Teresa and Nancy.

Jackson was here again this morning. I don’t have any bad vibes at the moment, but there’s not really much she could do to me other than put me where I don’t want to be till I can get moved.

Quickly, before they could be taken like the last time, I wrote letters to Helen, Ida and Mom. I’m sure they’re thinking the same thing – how could this petty bullshit make two sentences on the back page, let alone a novel on the front? Like I said, it must’ve been some letter.

After taking the night to think about it, I decided to grieve the truth about Kahn rather than be like most lying, exaggerating, vindictive assholes. I was going to add that she swore at me and trashed my stuff, but I don’t want to stoop to society’s level and be like 90% of these people are. So even though I know sergeants always side with their own, I said she was rude and disrespectful. Her screaming at me was uncalled for and I don’t want her working M Dorm while I’m still here if she’s going to be hostile like that and unable to control herself.

I know I’m risking Kahn spiting me for this by throwing me in the big tank that she knows I hate, or something like that, or even giving me a bogus write-up, but it’s a chance I’ll take. Then again, maybe she won’t do anything since she knows grievances can’t hurt her. Someone could write that a DO tried to beat them up or get it on with them and they’ll still ignore it and side with the DO. That’s just how it is unless you’ve got large groups of people complaining about the same person, but even then it’s unlikely that any action would be taken.

Will that fucking mouth next door shut up! Ugh! That mouth of Myra’s goes on and on and on! It never stops unless it’s asleep! I’m so fucking sick of that fucking trap flapping! It was barking about Glenn at intake making her cry and now it’s bitching about her lawyer. I swear this bitch is going to need dentures when I get through rearranging that mouth!

Mena’s on now.

I have to stop for a while. I can’t write to the tune of that mouth.

I asked Mena if Atkinson told her about the ripped pants like she said she would.

She didn’t.

It figures.

Everyone lies to me! Nobody can be trusted. Nobody.

Mena wasn’t as friendly towards me as she was to some of the others when she came on. I’m sure I can thank the Arizona Republic for that.

Even Mary and the others knew about the article. I don’t know if some other DO showed it to them or what and I didn’t ask.

Mary wants a copy of the journaling I’ve done since being back in M Dorm. Not while she’s still at this jail, I told her.

I’m so bored and depressed right now, so I guess I’ll write. Tomorrow’s when they cut our food down to two meals a day. One at 8 AM, then at 6 PM. I’m surprised they’re not going to give us the first meal at 6 AM. I suppose 3rd shift will be glad they’ll no longer have to deal with serving chow. I’ll be glad I’ll no longer be woken up at 5 AM.

We’re still getting the same shit; just divided up differently, although we won’t get things like eggs, cereal or waffles. We’ll still get 8 pieces of bread in total which is ridiculous. Still 80% starch. Brunch is supposed to be something like 6 pieces of bread, 3 pieces of meat (they should give us more meat than bread), a small package of crackers, and 2 pieces of fruit.

Got a letter from Ida asking about the meal cut, and something about a power outage for a few days that must’ve been hell.

Don’t know what that’s all about.

She says she’s been eating like a pig, taking a computer class, and she asked about Misery and Julia.

She said her brother-in-law in Germany is sick, and she may spend the hot summer, which she hates, in Germany helping her sister out.

She was encouraging me to hang in there, saying I was almost out of here, etc., but right now I feel as if time’s standing still.

Hot dogs, hot dogs, hot dogs!!! I want to smash every fucking one that exists, shove them one by one down the jail commander’s throat, down Joe’s throat, down the freeloader’s, pig’s, Public defender’s and judge’s throats – I’m fucking sick of it!

When Mena let me out to dump my trash I said, “Please tell me the fact that I still haven’t gotten the pants isn’t personal because of the slanderous article.” She got all defensive at first but assured me I’d get them (I know she’s full of shit, though). She said that’s the shift runner’s job, and they’ve been busy. She also insists she knows nothing about the article.

Sarah, from what I heard, just came into M Dorm and was put next door in 1. She’s a pitiful-looking one! She really looks like a criminal. Bone thin from drugs and lots of ugly tats. She doesn’t creep me out like Charlotte did, but she’s still pretty gross. Thank God there was a lower bunk over there, which I heard her say she needed, or else she’d be in here. If it weren’t for my visits and commissary, I’d be making sure to get my ass written up so I’d have to be alone. Then again, that may not be so easy. I’ve said and done numerous shit that DOs would normally write people up for, yet for some reason they let me get away with it. I’ve cussed Palma out and gotten away with it. The last DO you want to fuck with around here. I’ve had all kinds of shit I’m not supposed to have. I even flipped Misery off!

These DOs are full of shit and I’m getting really fucking fed up again. I swear I hate every single fucking one of them! I want my fucking pants or I’ll fucking go to my fucking visit tomorrow in my fucking underwear! You got that, you assholes?!

I can’t wait till Johnson gets back. You don’t know what you’re in for, big girl! I’m going to be such a mean bitch and give you a taste of your own medicine right back!

TUESDAY, MARCH 13, 2001 M202

I’m back by myself in 2. Espi, of all people, moved me. The reason I was surprised Espi moved me (after Mary told me Charlotte went home and not to D2 for a few days) was that she said the last time that she doesn’t move people, period. Maybe it’s because I stuck up for her the last time she was here when Myra and Peaches were ganging up on her for not shipping me to A Tower for saying shit they didn’t want to hear. Or maybe she feels comfortable with me being alone. We made a deal, though. If any loony tunes come in, I have to return to 4. No prob. I’d just get out of there again. Although I prefer 3, 2 is better than the big tank.

After I got settled in, Espi asked me how my new condo was, and I was like – ha, ha. I asked her how her straw house was going, and she said things were going as planned. Good for her, I told her. Like we should have, she’s doing all the work herself. She and her husband.

I told her I had 46 days left and she said I had 51 the last time she worked.

Yeah, something like that.

Anyway, it was on my hour out that I cleaned the cell and rolled down here. The only negative is Myra’s mouth, but my radio takes care of that.

What the fuck is it with these DOs? Are they snobbing me because of the grand article or what?

Johnson started off as her usual friendly self last night. Towards the end of the night, Silvia, who had gone out to make a call, informed me that 2 was empty. So, after the nurse and commissary had come and gone, I asked her if I could roll down to 2 if Charlotte wasn’t coming back, then the redheaded bitch goes, “You can’t have that room! You’re staying here!” Then she slammed the door in my face, and I was like – fuck you too, bitch!

Johnson’s never snapped at me like that or been that rude to me before, and I swear, if she ever yells at me again, I’ll yell right back, and believe me, I can yell a lot louder than she can! We’ll see how she likes getting screamed at by someone half her size and she ain’t getting shit from me after I leave! I’m not writing her at all. I hate her fucking guts now and I don’t ever want to see her again because the sight of her makes me want to puke as it is and I don’t know what the fuck I ever saw in this snobby, schizophrenic bitch in the first place! Guess I know how to pick ‘em, don’t I? I’m so fucking pissed at her and I’ll never talk to her again.

Here’s another person that’s really damn lucky I’m not telekinetic. I’d fucking take her fucking handcuffs and cuff her to that fucking fence-like thing on the top tier, then I’d make all her clothes disappear so she’d be cuffed there stark naked!

Tom said not to take it personally and that it may’ve had nothing to do with me. This was right after she cheered me up and got me laughing, saying that the animals needed me after I said I should’ve killed myself 6 months ago. Even so, it’s kind of scary when someone suddenly flips on you like that. She just suddenly up and lost her mind. She had about 3 walks left when she came unglued, and each time she walked by she didn’t even have the guts to look at me and I was like – what’s the matter, tough girl? Can’t even look at me?

Well, I don’t know who the hell pissed on your dinner last night, Officer Johnson, but you can go to hell!

Now Kahn, who hasn’t been here for about 6 weeks, is being a rude mother-fucking bitch. I wanted to kick her in the ass so fucking hard when she was in front of me that she’d have flipped in the air at least 5 times before she hit the floor!

Talk about this place having its pros and Kahns!

Anyway, this bucked-toothed asshole had me wait by M’s door for an escort while she sat on her ass in the tower picking her nose, then after a few minutes, I told her no one was coming for me.

“You just gotta wait for them,” Snotball says.

So, back to the door I went. Hann was across the way in L. When she stepped out into the hall to await someone’s arrival, she smiled at me and said something I couldn’t make out.

You mean someone’s actually in a good mood around here? That’s pretty astonishing!

Then some trustee went by and said, “Pretty hair.”

She wouldn’t have been so bad herself if she’d had some teeth.

So, I waited and I waited and I waited. Then I finally went to the tower again and Kahn screamed at me, “Just wait!”

Since I can’t take the wad of gum the bitch always chews and stuff it up her nose, I’m going to grieve that bitch! And I’m going to hype things up too, just like the media does. Yes, they really taught me well!

Back to the door I stomped. I was fuming! Just totally furious. If she had said one more word to me I’d have busted into that tower somehow and splattered her across the monitors, door releases and light switches!

After a few minutes, without a word, she came to the door and asked Controls to open it. They did and I bolted out of there before I could act on my murderous fantasies.

I fucking hate every single one of these fucking DOs!

I discussed the latest happenings with Tom, who still insists everything will be fine when I leave.

He said he’d coach me on what to say to the PO I have to report to the day after I get out. He said I shouldn’t be confrontational and that I shouldn’t openly disagree with the things she says, even if I do.

But how can I not? How can I not disagree with something either impossible, inappropriate, or both?

Then he said something about me simply saying I’d do my best, and then getting lost in the shuffle since they see so many people.

Lost in the shuffle? Lost in the shuffle?! In whose dreams? Quit being so damn naïve, I told him! As I’ve said before, something wants me to suffer on account of these freeloaders. It’s not going to let me get “lost in the shuffle.”

I just hope Tom knows what he’s talking about because I’d hate to end up wishing I handled the PO differently, just like I ended up wishing I’d handled the freeloader differently.

He said he didn’t want to control me by seeming too bossy, but what a joke. Being controlled is all I’ve known since the day I was unfortunate enough to be born into this sorry world.

On my way back from visitation, I saw Becky. I wondered what had happened to her. She’s in J dorm. She asked how I was through the window as I breezed by. I told her I had 46 days left and she gave me a thumbs up.

Kahn stayed in the tower as I returned, never uttering the slightest apology for her rudeness. The second I walked into the cell, I knew she’d been in here. That witch Charlotte had covered the vent by stabbing a spoon through a Styrofoam dinner tray cover and into the grill. There was a hair stuck to it too, and with my precision to detail and impeccable memory, I knew it had been tampered with because it was pulled out slightly and the hair was in a different position. I asked Mary if Kahn had been in here and she said, “I don’t know. I was asleep. I don’t know nothing.”

Then Peaches quickly added, “We were all asleep.”

Bullshit. That’s such bull-fucking-shit! They made it so obvious just by the way they said it, too. Why are they so afraid of Kahn?

Nonetheless, I’m not surprised Kahn was in here. Not that I have anything to hide, but she was so pissed off I’ll bet she was just dying to find something she could hang me on. I’m surprised she didn’t plant something in here, but I checked the cell thoroughly to make sure she didn’t. I’m sure she was just spot-checking, being the nosy bitch she is.

There was a letter in here from Tom. I’m surprised she let me have it, too. He said he didn’t know how to tell by the location code he’d call in for which cell I was in. I was in 4 at the time. The code is 1M242. I don’t know what the 1 is for. The M is probably M Dorm, the 2 is probably pod 200, the 4 is probably the cell, and the last 2 are probably the 2nd floor.

He told me all about the plants and future plans for a garden and fences. He talks about weeding the plants, but he hates weeding. At least he can’t get cited for it out here if he slacks off on it.

I laughed at how he said he hasn’t been bitten by the rats in weeks, but not because they don’t want to bite him but because he’s been careful.

His work hours seem to have gotten a bit erratic. He said he might have to go in to do some training because of a new procedure.

He got the list of things to get and do and says it should be no big deal from what he can see and that he can do most of it that week.

He says he’ll probably bomb and will be washing everything that week. I’ll be washing a lot, too. Like the spare pet toys that get bombed. Probably some of my clothes that have been sitting around forever, too.

He closed by saying his letter would be short because I was the only good writer in the family. That’s sweet of him, but his letters aren’t that short and he is a good writer. I’m amazed at all the letters I’ve gotten from him!

Two nights ago we had chicken, last night we had the usual, and when I heard Myra say it was red slop, I thought – forget it! I refused dinner when Kahn opened the door. She said, “Not even the pudding, grapefruit, anything?”

Just the sight of her alone killed my appetite.

MONDAY, MARCH 12, 2001 M204

Chambers did help me, and believe it or not, I’m in a big cell with Teresa and Nancy. It’s nice to be in it with two nice, quiet people, rather than three loud obnoxious bitches, but I still prefer small cells. I’m not worried about it, though. I’m not the new kid on the block anymore who no one knows, so it’s just a matter of days before someone pulls me. It’s too bad I don’t like these cells. I could probably finish up my time right where I’m at. Big cells are easy to get into and hard to get pulled out of unless you ask.

Anyway, Nancy’s very mellow and quiet, but Teresa’s changed a bit. She’s really adapted to jail life fast! She was always crying, but now she smiles a lot and even chats quite a bit. She talks and Nancy listens while the rodent lady does her usual thing – writing and listening to music. They pace a lot too, like Ida used to.

I guess I myself have really adapted to jail life since using the toilet in such an open cell isn’t as hard as it was the last time I was here, though I certainly don’t like it, and I still hate these big cells.

Teresa’s all nervous about court today and Nancy’s all nervous about court on Friday. Today’s Teresa’s preliminary hearing and Nancy gets sentenced on Friday.

I don’t know what Nancy’s in for, but my vibes tell me it’s child-related. That’s also logic telling me that too, because that’s what most Ad-Seg people are in for, and because she’s not willing to discuss it. She said she was a security guard at the courthouse when they arrested her.

In the meantime, as long as they let me sleep, I don’t care if they pace under my nose and talk a lot since I’m down to 47 days. As long as they’re sane and people I feel comfortable with!

Last night I was so beat that I didn’t even hear Teresa leave for court! I didn’t even hear them announce underwear exchange. I slept from about 1 AM – 10 AM and so did Nancy. I wonder if I’ll be able to sleep with both Teresa and Nancy in the room.

I’m on the top bunk. The one Lora was on the last time I was stuck in this damn cell. It’s a bitch getting down from upper bunks in the big cells because there’s no desk close enough to climb on.

On our hour out I swept, mopped and walked. Means was saying she was going to drop the s from her name so she could “B. E. Mean.”

Mary, Myra and Peaches were stunned to see me in here on their hour out. I can’t believe I’m in here myself and that I threw myself in here. Guess that’s just how desperate I was.

The coffee cart came at 10:30 and I got veggie soup and hot chocolate and even shared a few swallows with Nancy. She didn’t ask, either. I offered.

Nancy gave me a commissary sheet with all the prices listed that she got from someone in the dorms. Some of it is written in pen.

We must be having a cool spell out there because the heat was back on again today.

Teresa’s back from court. They vacated it, which means they simply postponed her court date.

Peaches gave Teresa an empty shampoo bottle, so now she can have a water/juice bottle, too. Peaches can be as sweet and as kind as she can be mean and vindictive.

Johnson’s on now. I told her not to put anyone in here who may come into M Dorm tonight. “OK,” she said.

Then she told me there was a huge article about me on the front page of the Arizona Republic.

How the fuck can such petty bullshit like this make front-page news? This is a letter I was supposed to have written, not people I killed or something like that. Must’ve been some letter the pig created for it to make the front page! What? Did they go and libel me for refusing their interview? I can’t believe it’s perfectly legal for someone to write about someone they don’t even know and publish it! Is the media ever going to forget about me? Or are they always going to treat this like it was a murder case or like I was some celebrity that got in trouble? I don’t see how they can be allowed to write about people without their permission. You need to get someone’s permission to include them in a book.

This is getting blown way out of proportion. Totally out of perspective. Even if I had written I’m going to kill you a million times, it’s just words on paper. Whatever happened to the cliché about actions speaking louder than words?

Johnson wouldn’t get into it with me, saying she remains neutral and that they wrote good things about me.

Oh, really? But they don’t even know me! They never met me! How could they write anything, good or bad, without even knowing me?

It really embarrasses me to know that Johnson of all people read this shit. Words can’t describe just how embarrassed and pissed I was when she came out and told me this shit. I’d rather it be in every newspaper worldwide than in one read by someone that I happen to like and am attracted to. I don’t need her reading about shit that never happened.

I don’t mean to sound like I’m calling Johnson a liar, but nobody’s neutral about anything. Everyone has their opinions about things and she’s got to feel something one way or another.

She let me call Tom, who as always, calmed and reassured me somewhat, but I don’t know. If they haven’t forgotten about me yet, they never will. In 10 years they’ll want to interview me! What’s next? A made-for-TV movie?

How the fuck could this happen??? How can these sick twists be out there living their lives while I, the victim, sit and suffer in this place? And how many more times is the media going to butt into my business and write what they want to write? I realize now that the truth will forever be known only to Tom and I, along with his family, of course. Johnson probably thinks I’m some cold-blooded, prejudiced monster. I just want to curl up and die! It’d be one thing if Mena or Misery told me about this shit, but Johnson! I just want the ground to open up and swallow me up forever! She probably thinks I had to be joking the night I asked for Rosa G as a celly, after the paper no doubt said I hated all blacks and Hispanics. They tried to say that the second batch of freeloaders that lived and partied in that house at our expense was Hispanic, when in fact they were a mix of Hispanic and white. Wouldn’t it shock the shit out of them to know that one of my ex-girlfriends was Mexican and another was half Puerto Rican, half black, even if we only had one-nighters! I won’t bother to mention the Cherokee woman I saw for half a year. That’d probably be too much for them to handle at once. Should I mention Stefan, the black guy I might’ve married when I was 24 if I had been attracted to him? Maybe then they’ll figure out that it isn’t often that I’m even into whites. But Johnson’s an exception. I am attracted to her both inside and out and I could shove that fucking newspaper right up the ass of the person that wrote it so fucking hard it’d come out of their fucking snot holes! I could really slit the throat of the person responsible for doing this shit to me, the fucking scum-sucking asshole! It’s no wonder I hate people so much and have no trust in them and live like a hermit as much as I can. See, the media’s got it all wrong. It’s not the blacks and Hispanics I hate. It’s those fucking Arabs I can’t stand. They have nothing better to do than pick on America and Israel.

And don’t these media people, who obviously think they know me well enough if they thought they could write a front-page article on me, know I have a niece on my side of the family that’s part Mexican and a grandniece on his side of the family that’s part black?

SUNDAY, MARCH 11, 2001 M202

I am not a happy camper right now. Chambers moved me down to 2 with 39-year-old Charlotte W, and I know I’m not going to be able to stand her, even though she’s done nothing but sleep since I got here. It’s just something I sensed right away. She totally creeps me out. It was just an instant bad vibe I had about her. Mary said she eats a lot and will steal my commissary. I can believe that because the first thing out of her mouth when I entered the cell was, “When do we eat?” Then, “Do you have anything sweet?”

That was so fucking rude. I mean, she doesn’t even know me!

She’s just as creepy-looking as she is creepy. She’s got a broken jaw and is bone thin and I’m sure she’s in for drugs, judging by the way she’s been acting. She’s very spacey and disoriented. She falls asleep for a few minutes, wakes up, grabs a cracker they give us at lunch, then falls back asleep eating it. She’s filthy. Totally gross. There are crumbs everywhere. She’s coughing this gross shit all over the place, too.

Chambers put me here because Silvia’s de-seg and needs to be isolated for 15 days. She’s in 3 now. Chambers was going to move me in with Teresa and Nancy. Maybe I should’ve just had her put me in there.

I got pissed off at Chambers for a minute there. I asked her, “Since when do de-segs need to be alone? They’re in twos and threes in A Tower.”

“But they’re in with other de-segs. I think I know my job,” Chambers says in a snotty voice, and I was like – excuse me!

Then later, she went to give me a piece of tape to tape my ID in the window and I yanked it from her in frustration. She threatened to write me up if my attitude didn’t improve.

Oh, so the DOs can be in any mood they want to be, but we can’t? We can’t be in a bad mood?

Fuck that shit! And fuck every single one of these fucking mother-fucking DOs! I hate them all! I’m going to use them to my advantage while I’m here and turn them into my personal slaves. I’m going to run them ragged by making them sharpen pencils for me and all kinds of shit! I’m going to make them work for their pay, then I’m going to be a ghost when I die and come back and haunt these people!

I know she was just doing her job and I did apologize later on for taking my frustration out on her, although I don’t think I’ll ever like her again, and I told her so.

“No problem,” she said smiling, then playfully poked me on the nose.

I guess she thought I was kidding.

At the rate I’m going, a part of me wouldn’t mind if Jackson and Jill did shuffle us around. This skanky thing just makes my skin crawl! She strikes me as the type to suddenly go on some psychotic rampage because the voices in her head told her to.

I made a mistake. A very big one.

I’ve got to get out of here.

Chambers, help me!

SATURDAY, MARCH 10, 2001 Bowe, who’s now divorced and back to Atkinson, is on now. She gave me two lunches for helping her serve. The roast beef is the best lunch meat they have.

The coffee cart hasn’t come and it’s already noon. I’m sure this means they’re not coming at all. I can’t picture it coming later than 8:30. They want you to have to be woken up for things like that.

I really do scare the shit out of the night crew, though I don’t mean to. I scared Lumia, who’s been switched to nights. She likes to leave the dayroom all lit up.

I was thinking about making my own address labels directly onto the envelopes when I get home. I’d put a small picture where the return address label goes, then type in the address below it. We can still get cheap, boring-looking labels to slap on bills, though.

The coffee cart did come, after all. I really thought it’d be something we’d always have to get up for. I got chicken noodle soup and hot chocolate which were good. It warmed me up, too. Next time I’ll get the veggie soup.

When I was talking to Tom earlier, we were discussing the fact that something up there has a definite obsession with me being stuck in places I don’t want to be, and he said that the next place I’ll be stuck is at home with him forever.

Oh, how sweet! I want to believe that, and truthfully, my bad post-release vibes have faded a bit. I’ll still be paranoid and looking over my shoulder for years, though, I’m sure. Something like this, despite the many cool people I’ve met, stays with you for years. Maybe even forever. The cool part will be looking at the clock on Tuesdays and Thursdays and knowing I can see my husband right there at home. Not through a piece of glass!

I can’t wait to take a shower when I want it, however hot I want it, and in total privacy (other than Tom, of course).

I miss waking up leisurely with coffee.

I’m still going to expose that bastard. All this was, was a case of non-whites ganging up on a white person in a day and age when they know they have the upper hand. A vindictive non-white got the help of a fellow non-white to gang up on a white girl because they knew they could get away with it. There are two things I’d like to say to Mr. Bias – to think first before he tries to tell someone something’s “over” when he knows it’s not, and to think before he coaches his friends into trashing someone’s life.

I doubt I’ll get a celly over the weekend, but I still think Jackson and Jill are going to rearrange us again. Probably next week. I find it awfully hard to believe that the last time they did it was just a one-time deal.

The more I think about it, the more appealing the idea of farming is to me, regardless of how many people consider that to be outdated something like that may be. I’d be scared of horses at first, but hopefully I’ll get comfortable enough, with Tom’s help, to be able to take the horse out riding myself if I wanted to. It’d make me feel more free and more independent.

Took a nap into 2nd shift. Gibb’s on now.

I’m starving, but I know it’s going to be hot dogs tonight. We rarely go for more than two nights without them. I just hope it comes with something that’s edible enough to fill me up.

As I begin the last 7 weeks of this dive, I’ve decided on a simpler title for my little jailhouse book: Life in Estrella Jail.

The juvies are going spastic like they tend to after dinner. Sometimes it’s hard to believe they’re teens and not toddlers.

Anyway, I was right about the hot dogs and they were totally inedible with the way they were overspiced.

I still fear that something up there’s preparing me for something by having me go through all this shit. I don’t see how it could be a good thing, either. I’m sure it’s freeloader-related. My whole life is freeloader-related so it seems over the last few years. I just won’t know the details until it happens.

FRIDAY, MARCH 9, 2001 Means is on now. At 8:00 she woke me for my hour out, but I was too tired. A half-hour later she woke me again, asking if I had any medical requests and I was like, “No! I’m sleeping, buzz off!” But before I could fall back asleep, the coffee cart came. Their coffee is horrible.

I dozed on and off till lunch. People’s loud mouths, including Means singing Row, Row, Row Your Boat over the intercom, kept waking me throughout the morning.

No one came from A Tower last night, though I appreciate Johnson’s leaving a note for 3rd shift about not putting psychos in here, which turned out to be Pérez, but she told me they weren���t sending anyone.

Silvia moved in with Mary, Myra and Peaches, since Brandie went home, and there’s a new person in 5. She looks to be in her 40s.

Johnson is so cool. I’m going to really miss her. She’s smart, too. She knows Spanish as well as German.

I asked her last night if I looked like I gained weight and she said I looked the same (that’s what Tom said) and that if anything my face looks thinner. I told her my hair grew a lot since I’ve been here.

She said, “It looks nice. It’s thick and curly.”

I’m still not sure if she likes me, but I sure do like her. She’s not only attractive, but she has a hell of a personality. Makes me wonder what I ever saw in Palma. That was just lust, and besides, 80% of my DO contact was with her the first two months I was here.

She told me that although any letter I sent her would have to go through the mailroom and be read, she’d get it and would write back, too. That’d be nice.

I really like how honest she is. Like how she told me my face had gotten a little chubby before it slimmed down. I’d rather be told the truth, even if it wasn’t what I wanted to hear than be told lies that sound good.

She was shocked when I told her I once lost a lot of weight.

Why else would I have skin folds around my knees and elbows?

Dinner’s going to be cold tonight because Hudgens is on. She likes to let the food sit out in the hall for ages before bringing it in and getting it served.

I’ll have to remind Tom to send more jokes, and if the Shadow Men, who only came once in the whole time I’ve been here, decide to steal them, then fine. It’s no big loss. I’m sure they took them for their own laughs, but why take the letters regarding cop corruption I started to write to Mom, Helen and Paula? What? Have they got a guilty conscious themselves or something? Or did they do it so they could hurry up and try to warn and protect the pig that I intend to expose?

What scares me is the possibility of being framed again and for something far worse. A part of me is afraid to try to expose him because of this possibility, but I’m not about to be bullied into being a coward by a pig like this, either.

There’s this rap song that goes, “I’m black and proud, I’m black and loud.”

That’s so like them too.

She finally pulled the cart in and is serving Alpha. I know we’re having pudding for dessert because I can see that much from here. As I said before, this cell’s got the best view for spying, yet it’s most private/quiet.

Mary testified in court again today and says she might be here longer than June. Damn! That’s a long time.

This woman is so fucking slow! She should have the whole dorm served by now.

Dinner wasn’t what I expected at all. We had non-spicy beans and beef. The bun we had was pretty good, too. It had chunks of walnuts in it.

I miss my Bowflex. I feel all fat and lazy just sitting in this damn cell, and I’ve had constant back pain lately. Tonight, not even Bengay and Tylenol will help. There’s just no comfort in jail!

They haven’t called us for rec in weeks. That’s so fucking illegal, too. People in lockdown are supposed to get an hour a day outside, but then again, I really don’t care to go out at 8:00 in the morning.

I hope and pray Tom’s OK and that Houdini will live to see me come home. As I learned from Scuttles, he could be fine tomorrow, sick the next, then dead the next.

THURSDAY, MARCH 8, 2001 According to white Johnson, we’re expecting a lot of new people in here tonight. So Jackson wasn’t kidding about people waiting to come over from A. I asked Johnson if I were getting a new celly tonight, saying I hoped not and that I hoped I wouldn’t get any psychos. She said, “I don’t know. That depends on who I get.”

That felt good to hear. It made me feel like she was looking out for me and wouldn’t throw just anyone in with me.

I told Johnson that if a Rosa G came in tonight, I’d take her, but other than that I hoped to stay alone. She said she’d keep that in mind, but if I had to guess, I’d say I’m looking at another night alone because I doubt they’ll ship over 6 people at once, which is what it’d take to fill every bed. I think the empty bed in here will be Johnson’s last choice to fill, and I know Rosa isn’t coming. If she were, she’d have been here by now. It sucks, though, knowing it’s only a matter of time before there’s a fight in a big cell, and I’m going to be the first one they try to toss over there. Or, I’m going to get lucky enough to get a good celly and I’ll lose her in just a few days. Maybe it’ll be the other way around. Maybe I’ll get another Nancy threatening me and the only place to run to will be a big cell. Or maybe I just won’t run the next time. Maybe I’ll just stand my ground, fight the bitch, then go to A Tower.

Even the newer mattresses are going flat. I’m on two semi-flat newer ones till I get a celly or move from this cell.

I slept better last night (7 hours). When I awoke, I didn’t have any bad vibes and as it would turn out, I never saw Jackson hanging around at all today.

I keep thinking about my visit with Jackson. Just what the hell was that all about? Tom said he doubts it had anything to do with me, and I would think it wouldn’t. After all, my worst crime in this place is having pens and extra towels and shit like that. I certainly don’t have a pen now, and would probably say no if someone offered to sell me one. It’s not worth the risk. Thank God I mailed home that list written in ink when I did, too.

Tomaszewski said she was getting a new computer after I commented about how I missed mine when we passed by the juvie’s computer room. She asked me what was good to get. I was on my way to see Tom and told her I’d ask him. Afterward, I told her he said Compaq or Dell was good and to get a deal from them.

The coffee cart didn’t come at all today.

Mena gave me my printout last night. There aren’t any holds on me, so that’s good. I’ll just have to hope and trust that they’ll let me out of here on 4/29 and not pull any more shit on me.

We had spicy burritos for dinner. I managed to eat them, but what is it with everything being so spicy these days? Even the potatoes were spicy.

I took a nap this afternoon. That was before Myra’s loud mouth woke me up on her hour out and right before Tomaszewski got me for my visit.

This weekend I’ll be down to the 40s! Can’t wait to go home to that man I love and miss so much!

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 7, 2001 M203

It’s so much quieter in this cell and so nice not hearing Myra constantly!

Teresa was telling me that Jill told her this is where the cops go that fuck up. Ain’t no cops here since I’ve been here because I’d know it. I still have to watch what I say, though. This is Arizona, and for all I know, I could be charged with bashing the fucking hot-dogs. They’d probably label it “verbal assault of MCSO property.”

Silvia says Palma said we’re now allowed to have bottles for water/juice. That’s good. Now I don’t have to hide my bottle anymore.

The pricks never took my rubber bands. They take shit that isn’t contraband like pencils, but leave shit that is!

Brilliant, guys. Really brilliant.

If I thought Dureen, Brattleboro and Valleyhead made me protective of my stuff/territory, wait till I get out of here!

FRIDAY, MARCH 2, 2001 Another day at Star Jail (Estrella means star in Spanish). Another day of LaBorde’s mouth, too. Five times that mouth woke me up. We’ve been getting LaBorded an awful lot lately.

The plumber was here checking into the leak in the water wells. I’m surprised he didn’t come in here.

I overheard Mindy asking for a brownie for envelopes, so I traded her my last brownie.

I hate Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. Those days seem to go the slowest. At least there are no clothes exchanges and Brea and Chambers usually work the weekends.

I went and mailed home the ‘to do’ and ‘to buy’ list because it’s written in pen. I doubt anyone would ever see it because they don’t look closely at papers, but I felt it best not to have it on me.

I might’ve lost my hour out for tomorrow. If I did, it’s no big deal. I didn’t go out for it today because it was too early, I was exhausted, and I showered yesterday. This means that I didn’t do my “daily job.” Lately, they’re threatening to snatch our hour out for not doing our so-called jobs, but hey, I’m not going to play housekeeper around here. Let them have the trustees sweep, mop and clean tables. They clean the showers. This is jail, not a private school.

It’s around 2:00 now and I still feel tired. I can’t wait to go home and sleep without half a dozen interruptions! I could sleep for 10 hours straight! I miss my soft, comfy bed, and sleeping nude.

Nancy, who was in court all day, just came down for her hour out. Gibb informed her she’d be locked down if she were at anyone’s door.

I’m fed up with this hot dog shit. We’re getting them 4 times a week, and more often than not, they’re too damn spicy to eat. I’m going to grieve about it if all it does is allow me to vent and get my frustrations out. Others say they’re going to grieve about it, too. We all know it’s a waste of time and that grievances are completely useless, but I wish we could have more variety in our food!

There’s a commercial on now for body wraps. I’d like to try having one of those done, but I don’t know. I hear they don’t really work.

It’s hard to believe I’ve been alone now for just under a week. Believe it or not, though, if I had to choose between being alone or being with Rosa, I’d be with Rosa. We laughed the nights away and slept the days away.

NOTE: The following section is what I typed in after leaving Estrella because of missing journal pages that never made it home. Around the time there was this big screw-up at the post office, about 20 pages got lost. The missing pages cover a 5-day time span.

About half a dozen things happened during that time that stand out in my mind. Psycho Nancy K left M Dorm. Before she did, she came to my door and asked me if I wanted to give her a couple of brownies for a cross she made out of blanket threads, as if nothing ever happened.

I told her to fuck off and she did.

A coffee cart started coming around, selling instant coffee, tea, hot chocolate, soup, and then they eventually added soda.

I was with Teresa B for a few days, then with Silvia Alegre for a day before I moved back to 3, my favorite cell in the pod.

The worst thing to happen in that time span was the Shadow Men’s raid on M Dorm. The men in black, dubbed the Shadow Men, work this special task force.

I also had a meeting with Jackson, head of the gang intelligence unit, that wasn’t too pleasant.

Teresa, a plump 46-year-old Mexican woman with hair a little below her shoulders and who was actually shorter than me, arrived from Madison at 4 AM on March 2nd. I had been alone for just under a week. Although I had been woken from a dead sleep after falling asleep only two hours earlier, I could sense right away that Teresa and I would get along.

We did.

Then on March 7th Armiderez swapped her with Silvia, a tall, heavy-set Mexican with shoulder-length hair who was impressed with the Spanish I knew and who never shut up, as sweet and polite as she was for the short time we were cellies. The swap was made because someone in 4, where Silvia had been, was screaming racial shit at her. Armiderez first tried to swap me, but I refused. “I don’t do big cells,” I told her, “and I certainly don’t do them with people like Mindy E.” After promising Armiderez to kill Mindy if she put me up there, she swapped Teresa instead, who ended up liking the bigger cell better. Not everyone shares my view of smaller cells. Some feel claustrophobic in them and prefer having more cellies.

A few significant things stand out in my mind when I remember the few days I was with Teresa. First of all, she hit on me, although she did it in a much subtler way compared to Nancy. I explained to Teresa, who took it well, that not only would I feel extremely awkward doing anything in jail, but I wasn’t attracted to her in that way. She had nice eyes, but that was about it. Also, I couldn’t stand to be with anyone shorter than me! I like the person to be noticeably taller than me.

The Shadow Men stormed the place on March 6th during the time Teresa and I were cellies, taking shit that wasn’t even illegal or contraband if they couldn’t find stuff that really was illegal or contraband. Just the thrill of knowing they were taking from people really boosted their egos and sense of power. You could tell they were totally into it, too. Totally enjoyed every moment of it. It was sickening. I just wanted to rip the shit out of them. I felt like a child all over again with my mother going through my room and dumping whatever toys she wanted, and to hell with what I wanted. It was a very humiliating, degrading experience.

It was 9:30 AM. Teresa and I were both asleep. Vasquez came in and told us to step out. She had us spread our legs and put our hands against the wall, then she patted us down. The Shadow Men cuffed us together and had us sit at the table where Mary, Brandie and Peaches were all cuffed together. (Myra was at Medical) The handcuffing incident alone was a sign of pure power play. Where the fuck could we have gone? Did they think we’d just up and run away through two locked doors?

So, the rude, power-hungry cocks trashed our cell, then after deciding what to take, one of them led us back to the door of our cell. Poor Teresa had been crying all along. As this dude was unlocking the cuffs, I noticed the cell was in shambles and muttered to Teresa, “The fucking bastards trashed the place.”

The dude goes, “Do you know who you’re talking to? Huh? Huh? I’ll have your write-up for you afterward.” Then he goes on to threaten me with my visitation for 30 days and to brag about what a hotshot chief or commander or something like that he is as if that’d impress me or intimidate me into feeling inferior to this piece of shit.

“I’m sorry, but it wasn’t necessary for them to make this much of a mess, and I was talking to her,” I said motioning to Teresa. “And sir?” I added. “I don’t care who you are.”

When he saw that I wasn’t the least bit scared of him and that I totally looked down upon him as no better than a cockroach itself, he shook his head in frustration. I thought my blow to his ego would make him want to write me up all the more to spite me. Thanks to Vasquez, though, the little fuck never did write me up. She diverted his attention, from what she later told me. After I bitched to her about how the rude bastards trashed the cell and rearranged it by putting my legal mail under Teresa’s mattress and shit like that, she agreed that a write-up would be uncalled for. All I did was swear (like this guy never swears at anyone himself?) and hey, I was woken up out of a dead sleep just to have my shit trashed and some of it taken, so what did they expect? Utter kindness?

Vasquez wasn’t happy with the way these bastards were presenting themselves, either. “They had the juvies in tears,” she said.

Anyway, after they tossed the dorm and wrote up a couple of juvies, including Silvia, Mr. I’m So Big and Powerful said, “Is that all? Are we forgetting anyone?”

This is when Vasquez quickly jumped in and changed the subject, saying she really had a lot of work to do, etc. I was like – thanks so much, Vasquez!

A few days later, after I had moved back to 3 for the second to last time, Jackson, another pathetic asshole, decided to piss me off.

Of the things the Shadow Men swiped, there were little tubes of indigent toothpaste and toothbrushes given to me by Ida and Marilyn, 5 pencils, letters I had started to friends and family, and a journal page. Fortunately, it was just one page with not much more than a few sentences. After this little raid, I mailed fewer journal pages home more often and used initials for people’s names, and quite often it would be just their first or last initial. Of course, they had to unblock the vent, too.

The taking of the pencils was definitely a control thing, but taking the letters, which they ought to know can be rewritten, and which mentioned the corrupt pig involved in my case, makes me think the Shadow Men had something to hide. Or maybe someone to protect. It tells me that they may know something about this pig and his bullshit. Why else would they take them?

“Are you here to play house with us?” I asked Jackson when I entered the computer room and took a seat.

“Sure,” she said.

“Well, I don’t exactly like being made to feel like an object you can just toss around like some game piece on a game board.”

She looked at me all confused and I realized – this stupid shit has no clue as to what I’m talking about! When she admitted that I was like, “Then why’d you say sure?”

She just shrugged, and I explained to her why I didn’t like it when she and Jill shuffled us around. That was done at the captain’s orders, she said (they always blame each other or someone else for the shit they do to irk us).

Then she asked me things like, what do I think of the coffee cart? What’s the hardest part about being in jail?

I told her the hardest part was getting psycho cellies that threaten to kill me, and this is when she went on to tell me that the average inmate’s IQ is equivalent to that of a 6th grader’s, and they’re not serious, either.

Well, I took her threats seriously.

“Have you ever been strip-searched?” she asked me.

“That’s a stupid question,” I said. “I’m in jail, aren’t I? Don’t they strip search us at intake?”

“Are you a racist?” she asked me next.

“Why? Because I used slurs in my journal when I was pissed off for being a part of the grand shuffle?”

“Well, the men who did the search were looking for bullets and then they found…”

This is where my fuse blew and I hauled off at her, “Yeah, I know about your little swat team buddies, high on power-play, swiping legal and non-contraband stuff just to feel in control. If they were searching for bullets, then they should’ve stuck to the task at hand, and you and your little pals shouldn’t have been sticking your noses in other people’s business where it didn’t belong. And by the way, you’re neglecting to mention the part where I referred to Jill as “white trash” when I was pissed off at her, too. A fat lady once cut my husband and I off in traffic. I called her a fat bitch. Doesn’t mean I hate all fat people. I happen to be fat myself. If a group of whites had a “white beauty pageant” or a “white TV station,” would you consider them racists?”

Another shrug.

“There are black pageants and back TV stations so who’s the real racist here, Miss Jackson?”

We never spoke again after this little meeting.

The best memory I have of this little gap is definitely one pertaining to Teddy Bear, who was still Johnson to me at the time. When I was with Teresa, Teddy Bear would often pop in to chat with me. I remember one of the things she mentioned was some rat she saw on TV. After she left after stopping to chat with me for the third time, Teresa said, “I didn’t know you were friends with her and that you knew her on the outside.”

“Neither did I,” I said, and Teresa insisted that she liked me, but I was like – nah. Johnson’s friendly to everyone.

Then she came in again to chat for a sec, and upon leaving, she looks at me and goes, “OK, babe,” then looks at both of us and quickly tries to cover that up with “ladies,” after a second of looking like – oops!

It was soooo funny, not to mention quite an honor! It took everything I had not to burst out laughing.

Officer Johnson, you can call me babe anytime. Anytime!

As soon as she left, Teresa looked at me and said, “Told you so,” and I thought to myself – this is the second person that’s said that. Deanna thought she might like me, too. I thought about the time I caught her staring at me. The blushing and smiling out of context. The things she’s said. Not so much the things she’s said, but how she’s said them.

Could Johnson possibly like me, a 20-pound-overweight, middle-aged woman, sprouting 10 new gray hairs a day? Well, I wasn’t sure if she could like me, but I was going to find out. I just didn’t know how I was going to go about it. I thought about it and thought about it and decided that the best way to start would be by letting her know I was into women and that Tom didn’t mind. Then I’d let her know I liked her. I had the opportunity as soon as I was alone again, and set out to find the answer to my question. One of the things I did for starters was to tell her a gay joke, making sure to let her know that it wasn’t that I had anything against gays since I’m into women myself and that Tom knows and doesn’t mind. Technically, Tom’s the only one that makes me bi. Without him, I’m completely gay, but I didn’t need to get technical with Johnson at that point.

THURSDAY, MARCH 1, 2001 Finally, it’s March! It feels like it took forever to get to this day.

This is the longest I’ve been without a celly.

The leak in here stopped along with the rain.

Jill came today and I gave her a tank saying I wanted to stay here for the duration of my sentence.

Misery’s on now and she just got screamed at by Nancy. Nancy was screaming out the door that she needs to go to Medical, please call them, she’s got a fever, she’s sick, etc. Misery’s reply was, “That’s unfortunate, but if you were sick, you should’ve put a medical tank out this morning,” then with an exasperated sigh that I could even hear down here, she walked on.

Gracie came to the door and asked, “How ya doin’, girl?” She’s on her way to B tower where the DOC holds are, then to prison for a year or two. Then she begged for bread and for something sweet (I gave her a piece of hard candy) and if this hideously ugly thing doesn’t have a crush on me, then I’m not a green-eyed brunette going gray. Why do they always have to be ugly in order to like me? Am I that ugly myself?

Barajas just walked Mary and I back from our visits. Poor Mary had to wait till Tom and I were done before she could return to M, where black Johnson was doing a walk. She hasn’t been here for a couple of months.

When Mary and I were waiting for Johnson to finish her walk, she was complaining about Brandie being a snitch but didn’t explain what she meant by that. Just the other day, though, she said they were tight.

I asked her about having to go to Florida for 10 years and she said, “You’re writing a book. I don’t want to talk about it.”

After I assured her she didn’t have to tell me anything she didn’t want to, I assured her I wasn’t writing a book, either. Not for publication, anyway.

She said she didn’t know why people were saying I was writing a book.

They’re saying it because they’re very guilty of some very serious shit that they want to try to hide and because they’re paranoid.

Misery was her usual by-the-book self, threatening to write up Mindy and others if they passed things under doors.

When she let me out for a clothes exchange, I asked, “Did you have fun at the Oscars?”

She said, “What?” in a defensive tone of voice since most people aren’t very nice to her, so I repeated myself, and she said, “Actually, I didn’t even watch them.”

I told her about the corrupt cop in my case and how the Arizona Republic wanted to do an interview with me, and she said that after 20 years of being a PO, she can tell me that the media is never a friend.

How true!

What a terrifying thought – having Misery for a PO. I asked her which she liked better, being a PO or a DO. She surprised me by saying that there was more paperwork than client contact and she felt like a secretary. What surprised me about it was that you’d think someone like Misery would like having less contact with people. I don’t know. Maybe she felt she couldn’t be as controlling as she’d like to be because of the lack of client contact as opposed to inmate contact. Most people who get into various positions of law enforcement get off on being control freaks who want to act out their aggressiveness. It’s a power-play thing. People who become DOs often feel like social misfits in need of approval and recognition.

My hour visit with Tom seemed as fast as the half-hour visits. He told me that the plants are growing well, and mentioned the cold, rainy weather. He said it was foggy, too.

He said he hasn’t been in the master suite. He only goes in every couple of weeks or so to run water down the drains but has been sleeping in the guest room. He says it saddens him to be in the master bedroom.

I laughed when Tom said Harry wants to play with people, just not him. And how he said he was afraid to get a giant rat because of the way rats love to bite him.

He said he made popcorn for them. That was very nice of him.

We talked about breeding mice and what to do with the extras. He said instead of getting a snake, we could give them to the wild ones outside. Good idea. I think we should feed the extras to the snakes, and feed them to the septic when they’re hibernating.

I’m actually listening to the jazz station. Anything to drown out Myra, who’s pissed off at her lawyer one minute and laugh-barking the next. Anyway, Pérez said it was relaxing, and it is. It’s good writing music.

I was happy to hear I may be able to get CD singles cheaper because they’re having a hard time selling them, thanks to all those who are downloading MP3 files these days.

He says he’s “working on things,” but doesn’t want to get into it while I’m still here. But why am I so worried?! God, I hope everything really will be OK when I get out of here!

Johnson read my joke sheets and liked them.

Tate was laughing the other morning when it was gown exchange. The smallest size they had was a 4X and she got a kick out of how huge it was when I held it up against me. They’ve been exchanging towels 3-4 times a week lately. Why? To have another excuse to wake us up? They’ve been coming earlier, too. It’s just so asinine that they exchange our towels so many times a week, yet we only change stripes once a week. Hell, we change towels more often than our fucking underwear!

Well, fuck you, too!

Palma walked by while Johnson was on break and she didn’t even acknowledge me. She was talking the whole time she was breezing by to loudmouth Myra, who was out with the rest of her cellies, talking to the religious lady.

I was talking to Johnson earlier about the corrupt pig. The least I can do is spread the word in here about the sick fuck. Besides, I really wanted to see if anyone could give me any useful advice about the situation, but all she could do was ask me if I believed in God.

I was like, “Excuse me?”

She asked again, and I told her that although I believed, I didn’t have very much faith in Him right now, for obvious reasons. He’s the last one that’s going to come to the rescue in this case.

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

6.25.24. Tuesday

2:42 am

Uncle Jun is watching something on his phone and he is on speaker... Weird! Crazy behaviour...

8:30 am

Still,have windblow...

Well, someone called me about that Maya of 35000 loaned but I didn't loan from Maya.... Using my details... Weird group wherever they are...

8:41 am

Harvey is sweeping the garage coz his gang will be arriving this am or on the way home here...

Uncle DD's main gangers..

8:47 am

The main gangers leader is here??? Uncle DD and Aunt Karen...

9:21 am

Still,having windblow...

I'm really thinking how to pay my creditz and my job....

Why,am I "block listed"??? I'm a college graduate...

Credit Peso suddenly calm this morning...

9:35 am

My red stripe short is missing here, same like this but pinkish or red stripe...

I want to have stuff that only me or 5 people can have...My original entity...

Even the blue plain is missing I have 2. I don't have a twin!.

If I didn't give it return it to me! I don't want a twin!

I don't want a twin! If I didn't give it return it to me! I don't like a copy cat here!

I don't want Marcose's group kid! I don't like them even Manalo's!

They made me poor they got my personality! I don't like them here!!

The poor kids copy me and made me poorish for 17 years!

They can open any lock doors? Did Mitch tell them to do this??? Did Mitch tell them to do this???

Uncle DD is having a mysterious eyes, they should sell their faker black car! I don't like them here!

Asshole DD better sell that fakers stealers black car! DD is the waiter boy!

They are getting my styles and they are switching me to be poorish one angels!

Even my pink Bench halter is missing, I don't want a twin who just stole at my back since 2007 for the attention?

Dd is the waiter boy!

I don't like them here!!!

I don't like kids of Marcos'es even Manaloz, they planned to tandem against me???

11:06 am

Not pin-poiting but my brother RV didn't owe anything to be Marcose's kids!

But did Mitch tell them to do these for 17 years???

A letter from Security bank that he owed 20k? For what???

Return my red stripe short and my halter Bench Pink... Probably a bad soul is wearing it .

Did Mitch order to this, to stress me since 2007?

I don't want Mitch to go up without me! Being a doctore is not a ticket to be on magazine!

I will go live probably after lunch...

I fed Neko yesterday and she was getting better but this am they got again the dog food... But fakers love on Neko! I wanna buy Neko from that gangers DD!

I don't want anyone to wear my stuff that I didn't give... It is getting my persona.

Where is Mitch? Did she order this getting stuff from me? For what???

11:45 am

I hate them for having the family tandem... Weird... Aunt Teresa and DD, I don't like them for having the harmony! I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON!!!

Mitch can't escape this linking... I should see her again...

11:57 am

It is ugly that that the waiter boy is the main faker lifter of this clan here.... They are all in unity!!!

This Uncle Jun became the office man here in Cavite but puling me down ,I guess...

Am I the sacrifice for their success??? My Gosh!

12:15 noon

I feel bitter here... It is a big deal for me not a shallow thing,not even a shallow attitude on doing that getting my stuff even one piece coz it is a sacred act for me when someone is wearing my stuff...

I love my friends but getting stuff is not a good act without my knowledge.....

That stripe red short I didn't give that on anyone...

Janna is my raw sister in law, I gave her branded leggings maong just like mine amounting 1000 pesoses, the Girbaud back-pack I gave to her I know it is Girbaud. It was from the past years. I also gave her the french paris soft jacket somehow cardigans amounting 3k colour peach or yellow. I also gave one on the old vet of John, pink cardigans soft cloth.

1:05 pm

I just wannna see Mitch and whoever saw Mitch bring her to me, in time....

Still,have windblow...

I feel bitterish... I hate being a supporter and why am I block listed to get a job here in the Philippines...

2:32 pm

Holden becoming my friend here in lazadah delivery...

2:51 pm

Ohkay naman but of course we are aiming for better brand next time... All are plastics the material... The number 3 is 3 but on the genuiene asahi it is much more powerful but it is fine if there is no enough budget for higher brands...

3:31 pm

I'm thinking of money.... I wanna have a car as well... Where is my red stripe short? I don't have plans to be a supporter...

Whoever got that red stripe shorts of mine without my consent, I feel bad... I feel bad if that someone is a bad soul...

4:48 pm

Sorry, I know it is my negligence...

7:01 pm

Still,have windblow...

Later I will post my friends here that I wanna see and only my friends!

7:11 pm

Still,have windblow...

Still,chubby angels... I need protein and gym and coach... I want a supportive bf who is cute just like cousin white, I dream of his face these days whenever I masturbated...

9:01 pm

Still,have windblow...

I don't like a fake friendship... What is a fake friendship? Someone who can access all doors,even if it is locked but the main agenda is to check out my stuff and to get some stuff without my consent...

We are having a tight budgeting and I don't like people who will just check-out my stuff to compete me, to apply my personality on their crew or group to compete me or just to steal...

I don't like a crew or new people who are just wanting to be my friend but their things are higher than my things... Except if I know that someone is really raised as wealthy like for example KC Concepcion and she is a star on screen....

I don't want fakers who are not really raised as middle-class but observing me since 2007 and trying to portray me and able to steal my personality...

9:20 pm

Still,have windblow

Trying to recall list of names as I considered my best-friends!!!

1. Diana "Apple" Cuizon-- My childhood bestfriend here since I was 9 years old. She is now a teacher in Cavsu. She is very sensitive and very,very,and very kind to me. Introverted but sometimes outgoing compared to me. She tells me everything as in everything. She is also a choir member but in Baptiste or the "Church of England". Very true to me and intelligent friend or intelligent person not only on academics but on being having a strong mind.

2. Michelle "Mitchang" San Juan-- My bestfriend/gf or best buddy during college in De La Salle University. We were together for straight 3 years, probably became US but weird. I can say we can be "bisexual". A yoga addict, she told me that her family lines will be fat as they grow old or if they are already married. She is having a scoliosis and continuosly doing her treatment for that... She is a member of mounteneering group in De La Salle, sometimes she is telling me that she is having a sudden headache coz they went to a mountain... She is very concious on the size of her waist-line. She is somehow a thicked-face in a cute way, when the time she had a bf before we became closer. She told me that they had a drinking session with some classmates and her exes bf's like Geof and Jim. She told me that she was heavily drunk and vomited on the chest of Geof. I was just smiling at her.... She said it was ohkay Phychang.... Now,she is a doctor and I'm scared of her devilish crown.

3. Willa but I forgot her surname coz we were just classmates in Biology class on Professor Torres and schoolmate in De La Salle... She looks like a japanese girl though we didn't get along that much but we were having this "mutual thing" like ohkay girl we are cool and chill with each other. She has this super smooth milky skin like me before coz I was pampered and had my own ac in my room and I had yaya or we had maids here. Me and Willa sometimes are having the same style of clothing. We both love "skechers"... We always automatically smile on each other whenever we bump in the hallway or any part of De La Salle. She is sweetish and full of smiles during college and babyish like me. But in a lil while I saw her having a bf ( having a dark-skinned guy ). I was just smiling at her when the time she was already had have? a bf with her. I know we both finished B.S. Biology and I guess she didn't pursue to be in medicine school.

4. Roshena Isaac--I met her ever since we were in our elementary days there in Salitran Elementary School. We were classmates but having a different circles during elementary but during high school we became closer friends and on the same circle. She is naturally sexy though she loves to eat so much and she told me that she is just dancing or shaking her waistline to lose weight. She is the "tissue girl" in our group during high school. She always wanted to use a lot of tissues and I was not angry at her that was really my deep inside even if she used almost all of my box of tissues during our high school days. She is very talkative and she will really laugh out loud.

5. Noreen Caparas --- I met her in De La Salle on our religion class and her brother was in the same circle of JP Alintanahin ( which became my bf2x) even after college and Robin Chester Cantimbuhan. I just realized that Noreen knew JP. I was innocent on a bf thingy during college but I remember we talked about this handkerchief waving... I was just laughing and we were laughing coz we used to sit on the rotunda... I was in their class coz I was an irregular student coz I was transferee student and I don't know I just mixed my schedules on different class and course. We called each other "Pritz" coz she believes that we are "Pretty Girls" with Ems and Chariz. She is a tall girl and always conscious on her body that she doesn't want to gain fats on her waist line. She always had have a primer and lipgloss on her face. She is pretty... I know as far as I can remember I called her a "Pond's Girl" coz she can be a model of any Ponds products.

6. EMS -- Forgot her surname but with Noreen and Chariz during our college days. She is matured coz she always had a mature bf... I mean she is actually matured, I guess even on sexual act but we were adult and I was just left behind on that maturity... Ems got a pretty face and smile and she always had a bf with a car... I was with them and seeing her having 2 different bf's after another....Her bf always had a car... Noreen told me that Ems got a bf with a car. We just hanged out in Tagaytay... Stuff like that... We just ate sometimes...

7. Chariz--I forgot her surname but we were together with Ems and Noreen. She is having a pretty face as well and beautiful eyes and eyelashes.... She is nice and sweet but she accidentally impregnated by her bf during college and she stopped going to university coz of that... We visited her once in their house, I guess somewhere in Paranaque as far as I can remember. I wasn't that matured that time, if I was matured that time, I will tell her to attend class even if she is pregnant coz we were already adult... She is nice,quiet and always flowing with us her friends.

8. JP Alintanahin--- My laguna boy... We met in De La Salle coz of something, I accidentally punched his younger brother and his friend for following me and Mitch in the parking lot. I actually didn't mean to punch his younger brother. I was mad coz they won't stop chasing us... Then, we met in the disciplinary office in De La Salle. Then, after awhile there were threats on me on the car that I'm using... hahah... That's the time that I asked help from JP coz someone was stalking at me.... As far as I can remember he talked to the guy, I forgot coz it's been almost 3 decades and more years ago.... hahah The start of our cute love affair during college. I received a death threat on the car, hahaha I asked JP to help me and he was a cute chinito ( chinky ) guy during our college years... I just figured out that the guy that I punched is his younger brother. JP was white and having a smooth skin during college years. JP is one of the head leaders, pajero boy! He is good on boxing I heard during college. Some told me that JP was a playboy and always active in disciplinary office.

9. Brien Neil Cantimbuhan-- We met during 2nd year high school, having the same circle of friends until 4th year. We had this cutie2x love team during high school but after college we became us but it didn't last coz I was tired of him and I guess I wasn't that happy... But as friends it was fine... But now, if he is one of the people who are controllig my life, I will kill him. We are better off as friends.

10. Antonieto Saberon-- We met in high school we became friends during 3rd year high school. He is tall,dark and handsome. They are calling him our Richard Gomez. He was a basketball varsity and now a successful seaman. I haven't seen him again after we visited Sugar. I find him handsome but as a bf, I didn't think it that way coz we are just friends.But of course if I need help then why not asking him to be my bf but not to the point that I will marry him right away... If worst comes to worst...

11. Monette Lladoc--She is my high school buddy since 2nd year. She was smart but lazy and very talkative. She is somehow the "Tita Fermin" of the group. Full of naughty things on her mind like the "Scorpion Nights" that they made a recording of their voice acting of their moan as if someone had sexed with someone. She was actually smart... She asked me to moan and record it and I was just laughing.

11:21 pm

To be continued these list by tomorrow... I'm thinking of money and job and how to pay my creditz....

11:26 pm

I feel bad on my cousin white....I hate it when he is already married... I wanna see snow and he is really cute though my cousin but I don't care but he is married!

I feel bullshit!

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

Vampire Niall has such party planner/wedding planner potential. He probably has a binder with color pallets, seating charts, food restrictions and time stamps, just for hosting a dinner with the same friends he’s had for centuries. & there is no doubt in my mind he makes them fill out a questionnaire prior to any get together for them to express their preferences and choice entertainment and their answers never change but they humor him anyway.

He gets everything filled out and in order and then passes out the food restriction pamphlets to everyone cooking so they know what to steer away from.

Niall hands one to Harry, who scans it over quickly just to give the other vampire the satisfaction that comes with some hard work, but then his eyes catch on something that isn’t usually there. His brows furrow in mild annoyance, and he can’t mask the spite that sharpens his previously mellow voice. “Sarah’s vegan now?”

“Yeah, she said she wanted to try it out. The other girls in her band are vegan and she got curious.”

“Does she realize how stupid and hypocritical that is? She literally drinks blood in order to survive. It’s counterintuitive.”

“I dunno, mate, that’s her prerogative.” Niall mumbles distractedly, using his super-speed to rapidly flip through his color-coded binder, his keen eyes flitting back and forth as they scan through all the guidelines insistently. He wants to ensure he’s handed Harry all the papers necessary to make sure everything goes forward without a single hitch, so quadruple checking in a must. “If it makes her feel a bit better about herself, by all means, y’know?”

“She’s so full of shit.” Harry grumbles seethingly, folding the paper in half roughly to a perfectly pleated edge, only to shove it in his back pocket out of petty insubordination. “Sparing a chicken doesn’t counteract the karma that comes from draining a fucking human being.”

Niall uses one of his knuckles to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, not even chancing a glance upwards as he responds. “Chickens, cows, pigs, humans— what’s the difference? If she wants to implement a limit on herself where she can, then good for her! ‘Fish are friends, not food’ and what have you.”

Harry scowls at the childish Nemo reference. “Whatever. I don’t have the patience right now to try and spell out the difference between a chicken and a person to you.”

“Good, ‘cause I wouldn’t have listened either way.” Niall snaps the binder closed with one hand, finally glimpsing up at Harry with the most dramatically bright grin plastered across his tinted cheeks. “What are you planning on doing with the turkey this year?”

“A casserole.”

“How English of you.”

“Going back to my roots, I suppose.”

“That’s a good thing, I guess, considering it’s really easy to incorporate meat substitutes into casseroles. Do you think you could get some tofu and make a separate one for Sarah?”

“Can I? Yeah. Will I? Absolutely not.” Harry accompanies his dig with a flat expression, eyes deadpan and lips set into a dry grimace. “If she wants to be an inconvenience, she can handle it herself.”

“The whole point of preparing a food restriction pamphlet is for us to follow it, H.”

“And normally I would, just not for her. I’m not ruining a perfectly good recipe because Miss Guitar Hero decided she wants to roleplay Mother Teresa. Tell Mitch to make her tofu garbage— his girlfriend, his problem.”

“You’re making the casserole.” Niall goads, narrowing his eyes at his friend, daring him to challenge the demand.

“I’m not.” Harry argues stubbornly, crossing his lean arms over his sturdy chest, refusing to forfeit his ground. “I’ll die again before I let you turn me into that witch’s personal chef.”

“I’ll tell Y/N.” Niall warns, giving Harry a knowing look as he tucks his notebook below his arm, his stance unwavering. “Is that what you want?”

The immortal bursts into disbelieving laughter. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“We both know if I tell her, you’ll end up making it against your will.”

“She’s my girlfriend, not my mother. Tell her, see if I care.”

Niall does tell her, and Harry does indeed end up making the tofu casserole against his will. He doesn’t have much of a choice, considering Y/N decides to use his blowjob privileges as leverage, and he’ll be damned if he gets put on fellatio parole because of a stupid plant-based dish. So yeah, he makes the vegan entree, and if he unintentionally spits in it during the process…Well, accidents happen, right?

[plus-size-reader]

Forgotten

Thomas x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2326 words

Warnings: none

Summary: WCKD isn’t the only one with secrets. The Scorch has a few secrets of its own

—————————————————————————————————

It would have been stupid of the gladers to think they were the only ones left.

While it was true that WCKD had taken to picking and choosing who got to survive, that didn’t mean there was no one else left outside of their domain. It just meant that the few of you that had survived were better at it than the rest.

Sometimes you called them the forgotten, those who WCKD couldn’t use that got left behind. In the beginning, it was like your own little maze, made up of all those who didn’t mean anything to anyone because they couldn’t use you.  

You were left for dead at the mercy of the scorch, and while some people had survived, as the time ticked by, fewer and fewer of those forgotten ones survived.

Most of them ended up as cranks, at the hands of the virus that had torn through the life  you once knew.  It was all you had now, and as treacherous as it was, the scorch was your home.

It was all that was left.

Which was why you were so shocked to see such a big group of them still alive out here, not deterred by the dust storms in the desert or the cranks who would surely tear them apart if they got the chance.

All in all, they were way out of their depth.

You had been staying here, in what was now little more than a bunker while now, keeping a close eye on the compound to the east. WCKD got shipments of supplies sometimes, which you had taken to ripping off occasionally.

Stealing from them was hardly the worst thing you’d done out here.

It was what you had to do to survive.

However, the last thing you’d been expecting here was a group of strangers, somehow still alive against every threat in this place. Though, from the looks of it, they hadn’t been out in it very long, which could have been the reason for that.

You watched them for a while, trying to figure out who or what they were, before eventually, you decided that you had to do something about it.

They weren’t going to survive out here on their own.

What you were doing went against your every impulse, of course, as you had learned not to trust anyone or anything, not even the other survivors that could be found bunkered down all over the scorch.

The only person you could trust was you, and even that was iffy sometimes, but for some reason, you felt differently about them.

Maybe it was because they were so desperately fighting for survival, ro maybe it was just because you’d been alone for so long but whatever it was, you had already made up your mind.

They needed your help, or they were going to die out here.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you” you called, just in time for one among them to flip the switch to the power grid. It may have seemed like a good idea at the time, but only if they knew even less about this place than you thought they did.

Both men in yoru view tensed at your appearance, but didn’t have any time at all to address you before the crank you’d loving been calling Doris for the past six months slammed against the bars of her cage.

She was here when you showed up here and once you’d decided that there was no risk of her getting out, it was easier to keep her alive than to put her down.

In your experience, having one around that wasn’t a threat to you, helped you keep tabs on what would draw in the rest.

“Follow me” you suggested, rushing off in the opposite direction of two of the other cranks, glad to find out that at the very least, the two of them could run. If they couldn’t, you would have been forced to leave them behind.

Just because you wanted to help them didn’t mean you were all of a sudden willing to die for strangers.

You would help them, or at least try to help them, for as long as you could. The actual survival was their responsibility, what they had to do out here because they wanted to. Everyone that survived out here had to want it.

If you didn’t, you died.

That was just how it was, and nothing was going to change that.

The pair of them shared a look, just one, before following your lead. The next few minutes went by quickly, more quickly than anyone could have predicted, as you raced toward the exit, meeting up with quite a few others in the process.

From the looks of it, the gang's all here.

You didn’t say anything more until you had made it safely, for the most part, out of the building, the door closed tightly, one metal door between you and them. All of you, with the exception of one, had made it out in one piece.

“What were you doing back there? What's going on? Who are you?” came the parade of questions as you walked, already sort of leaving the rest of them in your dust. While they clearly had no idea what was out here, you did.

...And you weren’t itching to see any more of those things tonight.

“Y/N, I was living there but I guess I’m not anymore” you decided, only looking back at them to answer the first of what you assumed would be a million more questions. The more ground you could cover before the sun went down, the better off you’d be.

If they thought one of them getting bit was bad, it was going to get so much worse in the dark. Those things thrived in the dark.

“Living there, with those things? You’ve gotta be mad” one of the scoffed, immediately forcing you to stop again.

Once again reminding you why you normally shied away from helping other people all together.

“You came out of a maze, didn’t you? Cause you definitely haven't been out here” you hummed, eyeing the blonde incredulously, though when an answer did come, it wasn’t from his lips. Instead, one of the original two you’d found, Thomas you thought you’d heard, spoke.

He was lost.

“Yeah we did, you didn’t?” he wondered, a genuine look of confusion dressing his face for a second. They hadn’t really considered an alternative, and why would they?

All this time, they had been under the impression that there was nothing out there in the scorch, but you were living proof that was a lie. It made him wonder that if that was a lie, there was a good chance other things had been too.

They just couldn’t be sure what.

“No, I grew up in the scorch” you shrugged, doing your very best to ignore the way their faces twisted up when you said it out loud. Of course they couldn’t understand what that was like, because no one could.

Only people who’d done it could even imagine what it was like.

The gladers weren’t exactly thrilled about this situation, but as uncertain as they were of you, it was clear that you were that much more concerned about them. Clearly, all this time out in the scorch had made you paranoid.

Rightfully so.

“You live out here? In this?” the blonde repeated, clearly missing the point of this conversation entirely. You wanted to make this as quick and concise as possible so as to not have to talk about it again but that wasn’t about to happen.

Not with all these shanks asking so many questions.

“Alright, I’m gonna need some names. Then I’ll tell you all about the forgotten ones” you decided, folding your arms crossed your chest, keeping as calm as you could be given the circumstances.

You didn’t have all day to sit around talking about this. From the looks of their friend, you didn’t even have till sundown anymore before you had at least one crank to deal with.

“That’s Minho, Frypan, and Teresa” he, Thomas, started, pointing each of them out in turn before moving on to the next.

“Over there is Aris,” the shortest of them.

“That’s Winston”  the soon to be crank

“This is Newt and I’m Thomas” he hummed, making it clear that there was some kind of connection between all of them that was much deeper than you would have thought, and confirming that was in fact his name.

At the very least, you had that going for you.

“There used to be more of us, out here, but as the time passes, there’s less” you started, deciding that a deal was a deal after all.

You told them you would explain this whole thing, after all.

“I’ve been on my own for a while, moving around to stay alive. Sometimes I stole from the WCKD supply trucks from the compound where you came from, but they aren’t even the biggest threat” you allowed, letting your eyes linger on Winston for a moment.

You knew that to them, he was family, but it was hard for you to see him as anything more than a ticking time bomb. You had just lost too many friends to cranks over the years to feel comfortable with him like that.

It was only a matter of time.

Thomas nodded as you spoke, thinking over each and every one of your words carefully.

After all, to the best he could tell, you had been living there all this time and when he stopped to think about it, it made sense. All those kids in the maze, they were there because they were immune, and they needed to be protected, but they weren’t the only ones left.

There was no way everyone else was dead.

Someone had to be alive somewhere, out there in the rubble, which wasn’t exactly wrong. There were plenty of people left, hiding out all over the scorch, just trying to survive.

“We’ll figure something out” he muttered, following your gaze to the male, who was currently holding tightly to Minho’s shoulder just to keep upright.

So far, it was just a sick feeling in his stomach and a dizziness clouding his thoughts, but soon it would be much more. You knew all the sighs, far too well, and you could have pinpointed exactly how it would happen.

It was a race against the clock.

“You can’t promise that. You don’t know this place like I do” you whispered, turning back around to continue on your way, not willing to discuss this any further. You wanted to believe in a cure as much as the next person, but you weren’t blind.

You didn’t get to be so naive.

“So why help us then? You clearly think this whole thing is hopeless anyway” Thomas called, jogging slightly to catch up with you, the rest of his group taking up the back. It wasn’t exactly easy to move through the sand, but you made it work.

All in all, it was easier for you than it was for them, just because you’d been doing it for longer.

You sighed, looking at him through the corner of your eye, desperately trying to understand what it was he wanted from you. This was a lot harder for you both than need be, as neither of you had a good history of working with others, but it was what it was.

It was plain and simple.

You didn’t want something to happen to them.

The Scorch had taken so much from so many people and you didn’t want to let it take anything else from anyone else if you could help it. At the very least, you could help guide them in this world they knew so little about.

It was all anyone could do, because there were so few of you left.

“Because it’s important,”

Thomas seemed to be determined to keep his family safe, and you could respect that. After all, he wasn’t the only one who’d had one, and you hadn’t been as successful as you’d hoped in your own quest.

If you could help him keep his people alive, you weren’t going to turn a blind eye to that.

“I lost my people, but you don’t have to lose yours” you decided, remembering the countless friends you’d had and lost over the years. The Scorch was real and dangerous, where nothing was ever guaranteed.

Between WCKD and the cranks, you’d lost everything. They would get bit; if they were immune, World In Catastrophe: Killzone Experiment Department was on top of it, and if they weren’t, they died.  

News of the immune, even out here, was hard to keep hidden. They were valuable, and as best you knew, WCKD was already tracking them down.

Thankfully, you knew how this went down, and if they had a shot out here, it was with you.

“You would do that for us?” he questioned, unsure of what in the world was happening here. He thought he understood the world, though he understood what was going on but every time he got any information, it flipped all over again.

Thomas just felt like he couldn’t win, no matter what he did.

“Yeah, but you have to know Winston isn’t going to make it. He probably has half an hour left, at most” you whispered. There was no way you could guarantee he had even that much time but he certainly didn’t have any more than that.

It wasn’t really the news you wanted to give him but you didn’t have much choice in the matter. He’d been bitten and since he clearly wasn’t immune, that wasn’t going to change.

“Yeah, yeah, I know”

None of this was going to be easy but at the very least, he won’t have to do it alone.

[71l3]

You can tell them what you saw in me, and not how I turned out to be

I wrote this a while ago but, enjoy I guess

“The Sun looks beautiful, Tommy. If only I remember what it looked like before.”

“Woah! Thomas, look! That stuff’s called rain, right?”

You’ve always loved the rain. You both did. I can remember, even back in the facility, when we looked over at the seaside, it was raining. We called it mist, though. You were so happy, sticking your tongue out while you ran around, Alby telling you to be careful while smiling. Teresa joined in as well, we stood and watched, one by one, they all started to join you, Newt. Thomas smiled weakly, watching all his friends. Minho flew around, chasing Newt with his tongue perked out. Teresa was doing the same, chasing Alby who was jokingly yelling about girl cooties.

Tears slid down his face, then. He didn’t know why. It felt so familiar, so sacred. He felt as if he was experiencing something personal. But, when they all smiled sleepily at him as they went back down the ladder, he knew it was all worth it. They were the only family he was going to remember, and for that, at least, he was thankful.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“It’s raining.” Thomas’ voice said, cracking so much that it came out as a faint whisper. He looked up at the sky, face dry, stainless. Nothing like the blood he feels piling upon his face, his hands. No one can comprehend the amount of lives he’s taken. The amount of innocence he’s stolen. His bottom lip quivers, and he bites down on it, trying to will the tears away. Although he has long been used to the pain, the feeling doesn’t help prevent the tears. Tears finally trickled down his face. He looked blearily down at the empty street. Deserted with life. Alby died, Chuck died, Winston died, Gally died, Newt died, Teresa died, Shuck, Minho, his best friend died as well. 

All this death made him want to think that this was another test. Another one of WICKED’s variables. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t another test, he would never see his friends again. And with how simple the cure was, he feels disappointed, disappointed in himself, in WICKED, he was supposedly an amazing scientist. An amazing candidate, and yet, his blood was the cure. Just his blood, no potions needed, no magic, no variables, no separating anything. He could slather his blood on a knife and stab a crank, then, they were immune. He would save the ‘Past Gone’ cranks. Too many people sacrificed for something as simple as that. 

He kicked his feet, he remembers, the day before they left the maze. During the day, a few of the builders made some sort of contraption, a simple one, at that. It was an extended ladder, Newt, Minho, and himself climbed to the top of the Maze’s walls. They looked around, watching the ‘Sun’ set. At that moment, the false breeze, fake warmth of the sun, they let it feel real, as it had been before. They let themselves joke like they weren’t going to die from this. He felt free, but the only reason he felt like that was because they were there. Minho and Newt, Newt and Minho. They made it all better for him, the confidence, the happiness, the odd feeling he couldn’t explain.

Placing his blood stained hands on the ledge of the rocky cliff, he relishes the drizzle of the rain, a faint smile able to be seen on his face. He shook his head fondly, as if recalling a pleasant memory. He was such a fool back then. All the time they spent together, all the words they shared, all the silent conversations. The whispers of conversations with the lamp light, the nights, days even, spent in bed together. Affection, love, adortion, that’s what they all felt for each other. That’s what Thomas felt about them. He wishes that he could’ve said something, figured it out sooner, maybe they would’ve had more time, more lives saved…

Looking down at the beautiful cliff side, all he feels is shame. He could’ve shared this view with them. With all of them, the people that he’s failed with his meaningless words and false promises. He can’t bring himself to cry anymore tears for his ssad, regretful past. He could’ve done so many things to save them, but he was just a naive child then, drawn by sweet lies. He smiles once more, teeth and all. His face is sticky with dried tears, being washed away by gentle rain. The smile is crooked, imperfect, but it’s him. He remembers when Newt would trace over his dimples, laughing while telling him how perfect he looked when he smiles and laughs.

He gritted his teeth. He could bear it no longer. He stands up, tearing his hands from the jagged cliff side, paying no mind to the blood pouring out. He doesn’t look over the view, preferring to smile even wider, his eyes crazed, a flurry of emotions racing through them ; he’s glad that can’t see him like this, how ruined he is. He digs his sneaker into the loose gravel, backing up before running forward sloppily ; he lunges off the cliff, laughing with childish intent. Over the cliff behind a tree, he can see a hand being held out for him while another runs toward the cliff. 

The world fades gray, darkening with his self-deprecating thoughts.

[watchmegetobsessed]

VALERIE - Part VII. (Harry Styles)

wow, its crazy we are on part 7 already! not much left of the story! thank you for the kind words on the previous post, i really need the encouraging, i’ve been having some rough days lately and they always make me smile, so please, if you enjoy this part, make sure to lik/reblog/leave a comment or basically do ANYTHING! please!

word count: 5.8k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Staying up until six am was definitely one of your worst decisions, especially at a house with kids who do not know boundaries and do everything as they please. 

You growl in irritation when you hear muffled screaming from outside. Can’t a girl just sleep in?!

“Mmm,” you groan, burying your face further into the pillow.

“Harry! Harry!” Margaret’s bossy voice echoes out in the hallway and your eyes immediately snap open.

Sitting up you realize that you’re still in Harry’s room, more specifically in Harry’s bed, but he is not there next to you anymore, however Margaret’s footsteps are getting threateningly close. She can’t find you in Harry’s bed, she has such a big mouth, your whole family will talk about it in no time and that just can’t happen.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you mumble in panic, jumping out of the bed and before you could process the running shower’s sound, you run into the bathroom and shut the door closed right before Margaret barges into Harry’s room. You even lock the door, knowing well she is nosy enough to come in there as well.

“Harry! Good morning!” her voice comes from the other side of the door and you rest your forehead against it huffing. That was close.

“Good morning to you too, princess!”

Harry’s voice comes from right behind you and it sends a shiver down your spine as your eyes widen. You didn’t even think that he might be in here, and apparently, he was. Turning around you find yourself standing almost toe to toe with a very much naked Harry who probably just got out of the shower. Your lips part first at the sight of him, then you suck them into your mouth, not even daring to move.

“Come and play with us!” Margaret demands. Harry’s green eyes burn into you intently, even when he answers your niece.

“Will be out to play with you in a minute. Go and grab the cards while I finish in here,” he calls out and for a few seconds you forget to breathe, trying your best to keep your eyes up on his face. 

His skin glistens in the light, still damp from the shower, droplets are running down his tattoo-covered chest and arms while his wet hair is falling into his forehead. He is surely a spectacular sight so early in the morning and you almost hate how your body reacts to him without your consent. 

Margaret’s little footsteps move over to the door before she runs out and you hear the door shutting, but the two of you still stand at the same spot. His arm reaches past you and you suck on your breath even though he doesn’t even touch you. Calmly he grabs the towel that was hanging on the door beside the door and he comfortably wraps it around his waist, eyes still burning down on you.

“I don’t mind you watching, but I think she is gone, so…” A small smirk is hiding in the corners of his mouth as he watches you snap out of your trance. 

“I, uhh--yeah. I’ll just… go. See you l-later I guess,” you stutter finally turning around and walking out of the bathroom, Harry’s soft chuckle following you. 

You make your way out of his room quite fast and sprint back to yours. Once the door is shut and locked behind you, back pressed to it you slide down to the floor in desperate need to take a few deep breaths. 

There’s no use to try and convince yourself you don’t find Harry attractive. That would be absolute bullshit, because then you wouldn’t have slept with him years ago in the first place. What frightens you however is that your newly funded friendship with him is taking away the hatred that kept you away from him all these years and you are starting to see him in a completely different light. And that cannot happen, not when you think your life is changing for the better.

You have Marcus now. You have a balanced, healthy relationship with a guy who seems to be the perfect fit for you. There’s no need to ruin everything because your stupid crush on Harry is making a comeback. 

“Get your shit together,” you tell yourself pushing yourself up from the floor, shaking your limbs out a little. You have an entire day ahead of you spent partly with Harry, you can’t lose your mind.

***

The weather is oddly warm, so following breakfast almost everyone moves outside to the backyard to soak the late december sunshine in. Aunt Teresa and your mom are taking a look at the little flower pots at the corner of the terrace, taking guesses what kind of plants will push out from the ground once spring comes. The kids are running around playing tag, making the best out of the huge backyard and endless possibilities of outside games while you sit with Lily and Jeremy, Valerie in your arms, feeling a little tired after her breakfast. Rosa put her into an overall and a fluffy hat, only her sweet little face is out, a hint of blush tinting her cheeks. 

From the corner of your eyes you see Harry walk out and he stops next to you, squatting down so he can take a look at Val.

“Hey there, Princess,” he grins widely and Valerie starts babbling to him, as if she was having a whole conversation with him while he hums along, pretending to understand every word.

If you are being honest, seeing him for the first time at breakfast after your bathroom encounter, especially with that smug smirk playing on his pink lips, you needed a few moments to get your thoughts straight, but luckily, Harry didn’t tease you about it, not even for a second, so soon enough your nerves settled and you were able to feel comfortable around him again. 

Valerie reaches out for him and he looks into your eyes asking for permission to take her from you.

“All yours,” you smile letting him lift her up from your arms and holding her in a sitting position he leaves to slowly walk around the backyard and show her the many wonders of nature around us. 

“He is so good with kids,” Lily speaks up and tearing your eyes away from Harry, you see that she is looking in his way too. 

“He is,” you nod turning back in his direction. He is showing her a dried out, brown leaf and she is watching him twirl it around in his hands as if it was one of the seven wonders.

“I’m glad Rosa chose him to be the godfather. I’m sure he and Valerie will be best friends. And she has you too,” Lily smiles at you. “You two are the perfect godparents.”

You just smile at her shyly before turning your gaze back to Harry. He catches you watching and murmurs something into Valerie’s ear before taking her little hand and making her wave in your way. Chuckling you wave back and mentally you not how you want to remember this picture forever. 

After lunch you help Teresa and Etta wash the dishes while Jeremy, Lily, Joe and Harry settle for a round of scrabble at the dining table. When you’re done in the kitchen you join them, pulling a chair next to Harry you take a look at his letters.

“I have absolutely no idea what to do,” he sighs, fingers tapping on the edge of the table.

“You have a word, and you could make it go through the triple,” you tell him, Joe and Jeremy looking up at you with a mixture of shock and anger.

“Hey, no help from outside!” Joe points at you, but you just chuckle taking Harry’s letters into your hands.

“Is it your turn?” you ask him before you’d put them down to the board. Harry nods and curiously watches you put his letters connecting to a T that was already there.

“Crottle?” Harry asks reading out the word once you are finished, the E ending up on the tile that triples the score of the word.

“I’m 99 percent sure it’s not a word,” Jeremy huffs, clearly annoyed Harry just took the lead with your word.

“It is,” you smile proudly, leaning back in your seat.

“And what does that mean?” Joe chimes in. 

“It’s a kind of lichen. In Scotland they use it to dye wool. Look it up, I’m telling the truth,” you chuckle seeing the doubtful looks.

“It is, look,” Lily tells him, handing her phone over, she probably just searched for it. Jeremy reads it then hands her back her phone, mumbling something under his breath before adding the scores to Harry’s column.

“How do you know this word?” Harry asks with a soft chuckle, but you just shrug your shoulders, folding your arms on your chest.

“I don’t know. Probably heard it somewhere.”

“Clever,” he smiles and as he turns back to the board his hand reaches over and gives a gentle squeeze to your thigh above your knee.

It’s such a short and insignificant action, doesn’t even last longer than just a second before his hand moves back to the table, but you find yourself thinking about how his touch felt even minutes later, when it’s his turn again. This time he has an idea of his own, luckily you don’t have to help him, because if he asked you to, you couldn’t have come up with anything, mind still stuck on that one touch.

Before dinner the kids find a few huge bags full of fallen leaves that must have been collected through the fall and they are quick to make a big mess, gathering the leaves into one enormous pile and they start jumping into it, no matter how many times their parents tell them to stop making such a mess. They just keep telling them that they’ll clean it up. 

“I used to love doing that,” you smile at them, sitting outside on the veranda. Harry turns to you grinning.

“Why don’t you join them?”

“What?” you chuckle. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

“Stop being so lame! Come on, I’ll jump in with you,” he offers and standing up he holds out a hand for you, but you just shake your head.

“I’ll pass.”

Harry rolls his eyes and you really think he’ll just move on, but the next thing you know is that he throws you over his shoulder, running down to the pile of leaves as you scream from the top of your lungs, demanding to be let go.

“Oh, I’ll let you go, don’t worry!” he chuckles and you already know you stand no chance against him. His strong arm is curled around your thighs too tight, there’s no way you can escape. 

“Harry! Please don’t thro--Fuck!” you scream when with one swift and elegant move he throws you off his shoulder, tossing you right into the middle of the pile, leaves flying everywhere as the pile swallows your body. 

You instantly hear the kids' laughter and when you push the leaves out of your face you stare up at a grinning Harry who is very much satisfied with the work he just did.

“Very funny and mature,” you grimace, but can’t hide the smile that tugs on your lips. 

“It is. Come on,” he chuckles holding out a hand with the intention of helping you out of the pile, but you have a better plan. 

Getting a strong grip of his hand you pull on him forcefully, hoping you have enough strength to pull him out of his balance and bring him down into the pile beside you. 

Luckily, your plan works out. He wasn’t expecting your revenge, so he easily loses balance once you pull on him, making him fly straight into the pile next to you, leaves rustling under his body, making an even bigger mess than it was before. 

“Hah! I bet you did not expect this!” you scoff once his head pops out from under the dry leaves. He shoots you a murderous look before launching right at you and soon enough a whole fight blossoms where the two of you are constantly throwing handfuls of leaves at each other, trying to bury the other into the pile. 

“Okay, okay, stop!” you shriek when your hair is full of crumbles and you’ve been rolling around for quite a while. Harry is kneeling beside you, hands full of leaves, ready to attack any moment.

“I only stop if you say that you’ll never plot anything against me and that I’m your one and only true king.”

“What?” you snort. “I’m not saying that!” Harry is quick to throw one handful of leaves right into your face making you scream again. “Alright! Alright! I will never plot anything against you!” you hold your hands up, trying to stop him from throwing the other bunch from his hand.

“And?”

“And…” You look at him, holding your laughter back as he patiently waits for you to finish. “And you are my one and only true king.”

He takes a deep breath through his nose before finally throwing the leaves away. He holds a hand out for you, but you stare at it hesitantly.

“Don’t be such a baby, I’m not gonna do anything,” he rolls his eyes, but you see the hidden smile on his lips. At last you take his hand and he helps out get op from the ground. Your pants and hoodie is filled with dirt stains and crumbles, it’s gonna take a while to get them out of your hair as well.

“You two are worse than the kids!” Lily laughs as you and Harry basically do a walk of shame, getting inside the house all dirty and muddy.

“All his fault!” you say, holding your hands up innocently.

“Uh-huh, no one believes that,” Harry snorts.

“Since I look like this because of you, I’m gonna take a shower in your bathroom. I need the luxury to wash this all off myself,” you state walking down the hallway.

“Only after I’m done in there.”

“Hey!” you snap pointing a finger at him. “The least you can do is to let me go first!”

“You have to beat me, Love,” he smirks and the two of you launch at the same time.

You knew you’d stand no chance, since you have to get all your stuff in your room before running into his, but you still tried. Holding your towels and showering and hair products to your chest you barge into his room, only to find it completely empty, the bathroom door closed.

“Ah, fuck you!” you call out with a frustrated growl, but just as you are about to leave, the door opens and Harry peeks out.

“It’s cute you thought you could beat me,” he chuckles walking out and holding the door open for you. Walking past him you stick your tongue out at him before you shut the door behind you and after a moment of hesitation you lock it. 

It feels great to wash the dirt off yourself and when you step out of the shower you feel like a new person. You wrap your hair up into one of the towels before curling the other one around your body. Gathering your things you hold everything to your chest tightly, this way holding the towel as well as you walk out of the bathroom. 

Harry is lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone when his eyes snap over to you. He doesn’t shy away from taking a long look at your uncovered legs as you walk around the bed heading to the door.

“The bathroom is all yours, thanks for the chance,” you smile shyly.

“So you’re not staying to wash my back? Not a nice way to treat your king!” he teases you, but you just roll your eyes at him before walking out of his room and shutting his door. 

Even though you know it was just a joke, your mind wanders over to the scene where the two of you shower together, hands touching and feeling up each other. You suck on your breath, shaking your head, trying to get rid of the thought as you lock yourself up in your own room while Harry is probably over at his bathroom, just getting under the hot water. 

***

After dinner you all gather in the sunroom, wrapped in fluffy blankets, drinking tea or hot chocolate, Aunt Monica of yourse scotch, and you start opening gifts one by one, watching everyone’s reaction.

Of course, the kids go first, tearing their presents’ wrapping apart as they reveal all the new toys. Dolls, board games, books and video games, they are truly spoiled, but with such a big family they can always expect some pretty cool gifts. Then it’s the adults’ turn. Sitting on the sofas and armchairs, you hand around the boxes and watch each other get surprised.

Your mom and dad have bought you a beautiful gold ring, one you’ve been talking about for ages after the first time you saw it at a shop. Rosa and Steven ordered a bunch of books from your Amazon wishlist and framed a montage of you and Val, it was truly a sweet gesture.

From your cousins and aunts you get some clothes and gift cards to your favorite places, just what you’ve been needing. 

“These ones are the last,” Rosa smiles up holding two not too big gifts, an excited smile pulling on her lips. “They are from Valerie, to her amazing godparents.”

She hands one to you and one to Harry and you place it carefully on your lap. Exchanging a look with Harry the two of you start opening the wrapping paper at the same time. As soon as the glittery paper is gone you can’t help the smile that pulls on your lips. Seems like Rosa had a thing with framing pictures this year, because you are looking down at a photo of you, Valerie and Harry from a few weeks ago.

It was taken in their backyard and you’re holding her in your arms, smiling widely as Valerie is giggling happily at her mother behind the camera. Harry is standing close to you, one arm around your shoulders, his other hand holding Val’s tiny hand. He is hunching down a little to lessen the height difference between the two of you, a genuine smile plastered across his handsome face. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out feeling a little sentimental about the photo. Seeing the three of you so happy and carefree in one picture reminds you how much things have changed since Valerie’s arrival. She really is the reason why you and Harry are now… friends. Yes, you definitely see him as a friend now instead of an enemy. 

Gift opening ends and you all just stay there in the sunroom, talking and laughing, but your eyes wander over to Harry, because there is one gift left that hasn’t been opened. You bought it quite randomly and you don’t even consider it a real Christmas gift, but you’ll give it to him anyway. Later, when it’s gonna be just the two of you.

“You know, if someone showed me this picture a few months ago I would have told them it must be photoshopped,” Harry chuckles sitting down next to you. The kids have whined long enough to play one round of UNO where everyone plays. You were the second one to get rid of all your cards, Harry following you in the next round so now you are left out of the game that is seemingly taken very seriously by everyone. Loser has to clean up all the wrapping paper, so no one shies away from throwing in their best cards.

Harry is holding the framed photo in his hands, he got the exact same one, but in a darker colored frame.

“Crazy, right?” you chuckle. “I think it’s our first photo together since the wedding,” you say thinking about it.

Harry nods realizing you’re right. You had one photo taken at the wedding. When Rosa and Steven were having their first dance they asked everyone else to join them at the end and Harry was quick to ask if you wanted to dance with him. Naturally, you said yes, so you slow danced, not even noticing that the photographer snapped the moment when your cheeks were pressed together, your arms hugging his neck as he held you close by your waist. 

You still have that photo saved on your phone, though it brought you quite some pain when you first saw it, the memories from that morning flooding back to you ruthlessly when you scrolled through the pictures a few weeks later.

“It was time we had a new one,” he smiles at you and that smile means a lot to you. It shows that your newly funded friendship is just as important to him as it is to you. It’s nice to know he is not just acting so Rosa wouldn’t worry about the two of you. You successfully overcome that stage by now. 

It’s nearing midnight when the party dies down and everyone slowly starts to return to their rooms. You do the same, using Harry’s bathroom to shower without even asking him. He just chuckles when you walk in. He is already in his night clothes, scrolling through his phone.

When you’re done you’re walking past his bed, but before you leave you stop at the door.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?” his eyes move up to you.

“I have something for you.” Harry looks at you a little puzzled, but you don’t go into details, just go back to your room.

Just as you were expecting, he follows you and by the time you throw your dirty clothes into your suitcase he is standing at the door. You grab the little box and sit on your bed gesturing to him to do the same. Curiously eyeing you, he closes the door and joins you, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“I got you a Christmas present,” you tell him smirking in excitement, and you see his face completely fall.

“Fuck, Y/N, I didn’t know you would, so I didn’t get you anything. If I would have known--”

“Shush, it’s not even a real gift. Just a little something that reminded me of you.”

You hold out your hand, palm facing up as the box sits in the middle. Harry hesitantly glances down at it, back at you and then his eyes settle on the box as he slowly takes it. You watch his fingers work on it, gently opening the little paper box that you didn’t even wrap.

The little silvery keychain slides out into his palm and he examines it with furrowed eyebrows, reading the two words it forms.

“For fuck’s sake,” he chuckles shaking his head when he finally realizes what it says, holding his gift up that reads ‘twerk it’ and it even lights up if he switches it on at the back.

“I just saw it and it screamed for you, I couldn’t not buy it,” you laugh, enjoying the scene a tad bit too much. It’s a subtle reference to the night in the bar when the two of you sang together at the karaoke machine and Harry swore he did not twerk in the middle of the performance, but you remember it clearly, no need to deny. You’ve been teasing him with it since then constantly and thought it would be funny to take it a step further.

“I’m… speechless,” he chuckles, carefully sliding it back into the box. “I’ll put it to my keys. I’ll always know which one is mine,” he shakes his head.

He stays in your room and the two of you are quick to start chatting about anything and everything. Harry tells you about Christmases at his family and you think how fun it all sounds, wishing you could go with him tomorrow. 

“When are you leaving in the morning?” you ask. The two of you are now comfortable in bed, an unspoken agreement has been settled that you’re sleeping together again. Deep down you were hoping for it to happen again, but you weren’t sure how it would stand with Harry, you thought he only agreed to it last night because you both were drunk. But when he slid under your covers when he was in the middle of a story you smiled, knowing he won’t be leaving tonight.

“Um, I have to leave before seven. My flight is at eleven and I need to get my stuff from my place before I head to the airport,” he sighs, fidgeting with the pillowcase as you are both lying on your sides facing each other. “Do you have a lift back home?”

“Yeah, already talked to Aunt Monica,” you nod into the pillow. 

Harry lets out a yawn and buries his head deeper into the pillow, making himself comfortable. His eyes flutter closed and you use this chance to take a good look at his peaceful features. He truly is a beautiful man, no doubt about that. You wonder if he realizes that about himself too, or he thinks otherwise.

Reaching to the nightstand you turn the lamp off, bringing darkness over the room and turning back to face Harry you try to relax and fall asleep, but it’s not really working. There are too many thoughts whirling around in your mind and quite a few questions you want to ask him. 

“Harry?” you whisper, hoping he hasn’t fallen asleep.

“I still think you have a good ass, if that’s what you want to ask,” he mumbles keeping his eyes closed. You let out a chuckle.

“It’s not.” You see his eyes open as he glances at you waiting for you to tell him what’s on your mind. “Why were you such an asshole that morning?”

Out of everything you’d ever wanted to ask, this is the most burning question you’ve been dying to find an answer to since day one. Now, after such a wonderful time spent around each other your confusion about his actions just grew way bigger and you just couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore. This side of him you got to see during the holidays is nowhere near the one that kicked you out of his room in the morning, but a lot like the one you first met the night before. The switch between these two sides was so fast and unexpected, you couldn’t wrap your head around it, not even years later.

His jaw clenches and he stays silent for quite a while, you start to think he won’t even answer, but then he speaks up. 

“I… don’t know. I panicked.”

“From what? Me?”

“I just…” Sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth he bites into it harshly before letting go of it. “This is how it has always been. This is what I always do.”

“With other girls?” you ask and he nods. 

“But I do realize that I was an asshole. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I’ve never felt more humiliated.” Your voice dies at the end as you feel your throat closing up. Even after all these years you still remember clearly how his words made you feel. 

“I’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve to be treated like that,” he breathes out and reaching out he quickly pulls you into his embrace. You bury your face into his chest without a second thought as you try to swallow your tears. “I fucked up, I’m sorry.”

“You could have just told me you didn’t want anything serious. It wouldn’t have been that painful than being treated like a slut,” you mumble, his hands soothingly caressing your arm over his stomach and your back. 

There’s a short pause before he speaks again. “I know. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

It’s the last thing that’s spoken. Once you have gotten it all off your chest, you feel relief and calmness coming over you as Harry keeps gently stroking your skin. Sleep comes to you faster and easier than ever. 

It’s bright outside when you turn around in bed, arm reaching out, expecting to find Harry lying next to you, but it’s just the empty mattress. Taking a deep breath you open your eyes and realize that you in fact are alone in your bed. Checking the time on your phone you see that it’s already past nine, meaning that Harry might even be at the airport by now. Pulling your knees up to your chest you stare down at the side of the bed where Harry slept. You can’t help, but feel disappointed he didn’t even say goodbye, but he probably just didn’t want to wake you up.

You shuffle over to his room and it stands empty. Sitting down to the edge of the bed you stare out the window, an unsettling feeling boiling inside you as you think about Harry flying away from the country. It’s silly, you know he is just going to see his family, but selfishly you wish he stayed there with you the whole time and the two of you went back home together. 

Walking back to your room you see that you have a new text. It’s from Harry. Opening it you see that he just sent you a video. It’s nothing else, but his hand as he locks his home’s door, turning the key twice, his keychains and other keys jingling in his hold and that’s when you see the gift he got from you yesterday. You can’t push your smile down.

“Have fun at home! X” you write him quickly, and he is quick to like the message, no reply. 

It’s a whole blur between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, you spend time with Marcus, clean up your apartment for the new year like you usually do, get some work done between the holidays and go furniture shopping with Rosa and Steven. In just a blink of an eye you are getting ready to head out to this lowkey party Marcus invited you to tag along for New Year’s Eve. You didn’t really have plans, you usually did something spontaneous with one of your friends or colleagues. Last year you were with Rosa and Steve. She was already heavily pregnant so it was a rather quiet evening, you were in bed by one am. 

It seems like this year is gonna be a little more excited, but you are just not that thrilled to celebrate, if you’re being honest, but you go anyway. 

It really is just a small gathering with food and drinks in a nice apartment downtown. Everyone seems nice and Marcus makes sure to include you in every conversation so you don’t feel like a stranger. 

When the clock strikes midnight he pulls you close and kisses you softly as everyone cheers and glasses a clinking around you. Soon enough the phone calls and texts start flowing in and everyone seems caught up in all the well wishes as the first minutes of the new year pass by. 

Harry’s name is the last one to pop up on your screen, but he is calling you instead of just shooting you a text. Excusing yourself you step out to the balcony so you can hear him.

“Hey,” you breathe out answering the call.

“Happy New Year!” he cheers, some chatter coming from somewhere behind him and you wonder who he is celebrating with.

“Happy New Year,” you smile wrapping your free arm around your figure. You should have brought your coat with you. “Having fun?”

“Yeah, but no one wants to do karaoke, I have the lamest friends,” he tells you chuckling and you let out a laugh.

“Should have invited me too.”

“Definitely,” he huffs. “That way my face could have been the first thing you saw in the new year!” he jokes and you laugh letting your head fall back.

“I truly missed out on that, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, shame.” You hear someone call out his name and he shouts back a quick reply. “I gotta go, but happy new year again, Y/N,” he softly says into the phone, his voice sweet like honey.

“Happy new year, Harry,” you smile before the line cuts off.

Your gaze wanders over to the bright city lights ahead you and a thought runs over your head, sending a shiver down your spine.

Why did you enjoy this short conversation with Harry way more than the kiss you shared with Marcus at midnight?

***

You watched your sister and her new husband slow dance in awe. The bright shine in her eyes was something you were sure you’d never forget. You’ve seen the fill up with tears so many times, you wished you’d only see her like this for the rest of her life.

After the second half of the song couples started joining them on the dancefloor, including your parents and cousins with their spouses. A soft sigh escaped your lips that you wouldn’t share this feeling with them, but then a hand appeared in your sight.

“Want to dance?”

Harry was smiling down at you with so much charm, you felt a little stunned at first, just staring up at him with parted lips before you realized that he was waiting for your answer.

Sliding your hand into his, you tried to ignore how the warms of his palm made you shudder and after you stood up he walked you right to the dance floor, the two of you turning to face each other. It took a few seconds to figure out where your hands went, but eventually it all came together and you started dancing, chests pressed together and you were very aware of his hand on your waist. You’d had a few champagnes by now and you could definitely feel your cheeks heating up from being so close to him.

“I have to tell you this is my first time slow dancing with a guy,” you admitted biting into your bottom lip. Harry turned his head a little so he could look into your eyes.

“Really? What about school dances?”

“I was… I never had a proper date at them. Usually went with my friends.”

Harry’s eyes lingered over your gaze and for a heart beat, they wandered down to your lips before his green orbs returned to your eyes. You felt his hand squeeze your waist gently as a smile tugged on his lips.

“It’s an honor to be the first one.”

PREVIOUS PART

NEXT PART

TAGLIST

let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off!

@f-vasquezp​ @perspnhel​ @http-cherries​  @h-arrystyles​ @just-damn-bored​ @millennial-teenybopper​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @gwenlovesharrystyles​ @perfectywrong​ @do-youseeme​ @burberryharold​  @irwindoll​ @stylesfics-xx​ @sltwins​ @mellamolayla​ @funeral-7​

[writingsbychlo]

💭

Hi congrats on 9k! Can you please do HC of cuddling Thomas in the scorch trials?

no more requests, the sleepover is over, I'm just finishing up what's in my inbox!

it would start pretty lightweight

but get heavy real quick

it starts with newt befriending the girl from the table across from him

they've never met before but something feels familiar and both of them are suspicious

so her and newt pretty quickly decide they were probably friends once and decide to be friends again

it all feels so comfortable

and thomas can't deny that he feels pretty at ease around her too

so when they escape, and they find her getting some medical check ups, thomas and newt are both pretty insistent about bringing her along too

skip to the first time they cuddle

everyone else is asleep, and thomas is staring at the fire and contemplating way too much

and she puts a blanket over his shoulders and sits beside him

he's pretty grateful for that

she asks if he wants to talk about it, it might help, just to get things off of his mind

and he does

it helps so much, it makes him feel so much better

somewhere in those few hours, you started playing with his hair to soothe him

he's not sure why he lets you and you're not sure how you knew it would help

but it does, and he ends up with his head on your shoulder

he falls asleep there, just like that

when he wakes up, he's laying down with the blanket and his bag as a pillow, and thomas hasn't slept that well in a while

not to mention, how much simpler everything feels, even just for a little while

after that, it's harder to sleep on his own

literally the following night already gets harder

so, the night after that, he finds you again

you're all curled up with your own blanket, staring up at the stars

he's nervous, because now that he thinks about it, it's kinda odd

but he offers his own blanket as a pillow if he can share yours as a cover, and you accept

"you sure it's okay?"

"it's cold out here, and you're pretty hot. i mean, like, well not that you're not hot, like cute hot, but i meant- i can feel you trying not to laugh, stop it."

"s'okay. it is cold out here. and you're pretty cute hot too, i guess."

rolling over to face him, and he's still trying not to laugh, but you can barely see him, despite his face only being a few inches away

"are you okay, thomas?"

"yeah. i don't know. i'm stressed. but, like, when I'm with you, my head is a little emptier. you make it easier to sleep."

and you play with his hair again and he falls asleep real quick again

the next night, you find him and he gets this blush on his face in the firelight

laying out his blanket on the floor, and letting you both get comfortable under his blanket

and he's quiet today

you watched him say goodbye to his friend

the whole camp has been quiet

you and the kid called aris were the only ones who didn't feel the same pain

but it didn't mean you couldn't understand it, and empathise

and so when he shakes a little, and tucks his face a little more into your neck, you hold him tighter than you have before

he pretty much wraps himself around you, because he need the comfort

in fact, that morning, he's still there, he didn't let go all night

when you wake up, he's already up, but he's still there, nose brushing under your jaw as his hand draws patterns on your hip

"sorry, i just didn't feel like getting up yet. i'm just.. happier, right now."

"s'okay, there's no rush. you don't have to go anywhere until you're ready."

newt coming over to tell you both to get a shuffle on

and getting a look on his face when he does and sees you both

and the whole day is spent walking

thomas making sure you have enough water, and offering to share his

not to mention, when he packed up your bags, he folded your blankets together and put them both in his bag

he didn't say anything, but he had a soft look on his face

when you fall asleep on the ground again the following night, there's not even a conversation about it this time

thomas finds you after doing a final check of everything

he just gets under the blanket and presses himself up behind you

an arm over your waist, and his brushes his nose against the back of your head

"g'night, sweetheart."

g'night tommy."

waking thomas up when you see the lights

because you couldn't sleep

despite making everything easier for thomas, you were confused

because you had dreams about him when he lay with you, and they weren't of anything you had ever experienced

they were more like memories than dreams

smiles you'd never seen him make yet, and whispers you'd never heard from him in tones of his voice you'd yet to get

and there's a storm rolling in, with thunder that makes you nervous

but then you see the lights

rolling over to face him

being momentarily distracted by the fact that he actually looks at peace right now

"thomas! tommy! wake up!"

he squeezes his arm a little tighter and pulls you closer to him

his nose bumping against your forehead as he groans a little at being woken up

and you hate that your whole body flushes at it all

"y'okay? what's wrong?"

that same hand from your waist coming up to brush across the back of your head soothingly

"there's lights. i think we found it!"

and then there's thunder

and a lot of running

and thomas' hand slipping into your own at some point

squeezing tightly when you're in the dark

everything being a bit of a blur

going right from meeting brenda, to panicking when thomas is put on his knees, and passing out when you're hung upside down

waking up with a jump right as they come up with the plan

thomas' hands on your face as you both swing slightly, thumbs smoothing over your face at an odd angle

"you okay, sweetheart?"

"you're cute even when you're upside down, that's so not fair."

and he rolls his eyes with a stupid little grin

his hand in yours again as you're running

getting separated when he chases brenda

but leaving your head fucking spinning when he cups your face and kisses your cheek and tells you "see you real soon, sweetheart. won't sleep 'til I'm back with you, 'kay?"

and not even giving you a chance to reply before he's gone

fucking panicking

and newt being the best comfort he can

when he wakes up after the club incident, it's with his head in your lap

and he's staring at you for a second

you let out this soft little relieved laugh for him

"you're cute even when upside down, that's so not fair."

"shut up, you dork."

when he sits up, it's just to tremble and still be a little weak, but he leans in and pressing his forehead against yours again

when you get in the car, he takes another nap

falling asleep on your shoulder, somewhat curled into you

and giving exactly zero fucks about all the teasing he gets from minho and newt while getting himself comfortable

holding your hand again when you're moving through the broken down cars

searching for you as soon as aris has calmed the situation, just to check you're okay

"you're good, right? you didn't get shot, or anything, like, you're okay? you're good?"

speaking very fast, and running his hands down from your shoulders to your hands, one hand linking with yours as the other sits on your waist

rendering you speechless for a moment

"you're the fool who was holding a bomb."

"it didn't go off."

"dumbass."

shaking his head but leaning in enough to rest his forehead on your shoulder, going a little weak

just letting himself be held for a couple of seconds

and then everything goes to hell

it's good, he gets checked out by mary and finds out a lot

and then he finds you sitting on top of the cliffs with newt and minho and fry

and he gets to sit with you tucked under his arm for a little while

but then he checks on teresa

and everything gets bombed

and it's all gone to hell

because right as he sends you away with brenda, he holds your face and kisses you and tells you that he promises "I'll come find you, when it's safe."

but you come back

and you save his damn life

and when you're yelling at him you give in and kiss him and tell him to "stop being such a dumbass!"

he thinks it's all okay

until you're being dragged away with minho

and his throat is raw from screaming and crying because two of the most important people in his life just got taken

and he knows he won't sleep right 'til he finds you again

[michelle-ko-i]

Okay, let’s talk Thomesa.

I know it’s a controversial ship among the Maze Runner fandom, but hear me out. It’s a very tragic and emotional love story.

Most of the controversy in his topic to due to the fact that it is Teresa on the other side of it. We all love Thomas, as there’s no denying that he’s a pretty, great protagonist and leader. But most of us are split in the idea of Teresa. Whether she was good or bad, whether she was doing the right thing or not, or if her betrayal was really necessary. I am Team Thomas all the way, mostly because I enjoy both Brenda and Teresa, and enjoy them with Thomas, either it’s platonic or romantic. But if I had to choose which of the two I like the most, I’d prefer Teresa, and there are probably many others who think the same.

To be honest, I believe that if Teresa hadn’t died in the Death Cure, Thomas would’ve ended up with her either way. It’s very clear that he always loved her, and saw her intentions through and through. Thomas isn’t small minded, but he is stubborn, and does what he thinks is right. Teresa is the same. She is open minded, and always thinking of others before herself. That’s what makes her death so symbolic. She died because she loved for Thomas, and wanted him to go on, and died knowing that he was going to have a long life ahead of him.

Let’s talk about this kiss. Now, throughout the entirety of the film, Thomas and Teresa always have this tension between them. Of course, it’s mostly because of the fact that he’s seeing her again, because of what she did. After all, if Teresa hadn’t called WICKED, Minho would’ve never ended up in the Last City. But this kiss. This kiss tells us everything we need to know about both characters, and their motives throughout the trilogy. It’s always clear that they had each other’s backs, and are always looking out for one another. It’s clear Thomas loves Teresa as much as she loves him. Why else would he kiss her, instead of her kissing him, when it’s clear she still loves him? This kiss confirms that Thomas is, too, in love with Teresa. And he forgives for what she did, because he understands her beliefs, and that she had no intention in harming anyone.

So let’s go farther into this. Remember when we see Teresa monitoring Minho for the first time in The Death Cure? You can see it in her face, that she is completely hurt, and can’t stand seeing her friend in pain. She even looks away, regret storming on her face. Later on, when Ava Paige is speaking with her after their meeting, she says she can have Teresa’s memories of Thomas wiped so she could focus. Teresa denies this. She never wants to forget him. It’s even clear that she’ll never get over Thomas. She keeps seeing him. Even when she sees him a the train station, she chases after him, because she needs him. She needs him to guide her through this mess she made.

But even Thomas doesn’t hate her, he’s just confused. He wants to hate her, but something inside of him still cares for her. When they speak, you actually can see the sadness in his face seeing her—not because she’s the reason he’s there, but also because he misses her, and wanted her with him the entire time. Teresa and Thomas have always been a team.

Even when they were kids, Thomas and Teresa were always together. They were the ones that shared that connection and knew that there was something binding them together. Remember in the Scorch Trials how Thomas was protective and always wondering and thinking of Teresa? When she pasted his windows, he literally got up from his chair, and kept calling her name, trying to make sure she was okay. Teresa was always at his side when he passed out, and in his dreams while he was out. When he woke up from the Changing, she was there. When he woke up from being drugged with Brenda, she was there.

Even in his dreams, she was there with him. Everything and everything was about them both. Holding hands before going under the Swipe. It’s clear there was something before all of this even started.

I don’t think Thomas ever even meant harm to Teresa, either. It’s very clear he loves her, and is willing to do what is necessary. Let’s think for a moment. Look at his face. He’s so starstruck, and in awe of her. He’s almost proud. He’s relieved. He’s in love. But that’s not the only thing that portrays his affections towards her. It’s also even before the betrayal.

After he kissed Brenda, he immediately sees Teresa instead of Brenda, who will later go on to be his endgame when the series is over. This is a clear statement that he has feelings to her. He even says afterwards:

“No,” he said, resisting.

[Brenda] stopped, a hurt looked washing over her face. Her moving, blurring face.

“Why?” she asked.

The darkness almost had him fully now. “You’re not... her.” His voice, distant. A mere echo. “You could never be her.”

And she fell away, and his mind did the same.

So yeah. Thomas is hung up on Teresa. Even when Newt mentions her when they see the Last City, months after her betrayal, you can see the straint on his face. Seeing her is bring a strange feeling inside him.

Moral of the story, Thomas and Teresa were always, from what I can tell, the true love story of the Maze Runner. Yeah, I know, the romance isn’t a big part of the story, but let’s also put in the fact that they both love each other very deeply, and it sucks that they’ll never actually get to be together, because moments after that kiss they share, Teresa dies, and Thomas is screaming as she falls. But also think that Thomas’s last words in the films was “No!” when he saw Teresa fall. Also, when he had the chance to carve a name into the Memorial Stone, he chose whose name? You guessed it—Teresa. But again, I am team Thomas. Not team Teresa, not team Brenda. I’m on Thomas’s side. I just think people are a little too bias on him and Teresa, because clearly, they belong together—they just never had the chance.

[musicandbooksaremyhappyplace]

A NIGHTTIME CONFESSION.

newt x y/n

warnings: none,

“Hey Y/n you still with me?” I felt an elbow dig into my ribs as Minho spoke. I Jerked my head around to look at him. “What?” minho smirked “I’ll take that as a no.” I ran a hand over my hair smiling ruefully. “Yeah sorry I was spaced out.” I could see the grin grow on my best friends face as he said, “watcha looking at?” He followed my gaze and saw that newt was the center of my attention.

“Ooo got a little crush on the blond one do we?” He nudged my shoulder laughing.

“What? No!” My voice cracked as it always did when I was denying an accusation like that. To be honest I did like newt. I loved him. I loved his limp and his accent the way he laughed and his smile. Plus a countless amount of other things.

Minho laughed again and tugged my braid. “Oh you shank don’t deny it! I’ve known for a while!”

“y-you have?” I looked up at Minho who was at least a head taller than me even with me wearing heeled boots. “W-was it obvious?”

“nah. I only know cause I’m your best friend and I know how to tell. You should tell him!”

I laughed bitterly and took a drink of gallys moonshine. “Hell no. Min. I ain’t risking my friendship with him just so I can tell him how I feel.”

Minho watched my face as the firelight played over it then shrugged. “Whatever It’s your sanity not mine. But trust me it’ll turn out good if you tell him.” I cocked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. To be honest I thought that newt had a thing for Teresa. He always smiled more whenever she came around and laughed at her jokes despite the fact that she and Thomas were together.

late that night everyone was in bed. I was laying in my hammock trying to sleep but it just wouldn’t come. After a while I quietly got up and went to the tower. I climbed to the top and sat on the edge legs swinging off leaning my forehead on the railing as I looked down at the ground.

a few moments later I heard the ladder creaking and knew that someone was coming up. I didn’t move but I could tell by the quiet breathing and the muttered curse of “bloody hell” that it was newt.

he came through the trap door and sat down beside me. I could see through my side vision how he nervously gripped the edge of the planks that being up here brought back his painful memories of when he jumped from the maze walls. Minho and I were the only ones who actually knew about that. I was rather suprised that he was up here. I had never seen him come up here since that incident. After a few moments of sitting in silence he spoke softly.

“How are you?” His accent softened the words even more making them wash over me like a cold shower after a long hot day of work.

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?” My hands were slightly cold so I crossed my arms tucking them in my armpits.

newt scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been more quiet and withdrawn lately and you haven’t been sleeping much. You come up here a lot at night and stay here for hours.”

I ran a hand through my hair and took it out of my customary braid then started combing through it with my fingers. “You’ve noticed.”

“of course how could I not?”

“well judging from how Minho hasn’t noticed yet it’s kind of suprising. I didn’t think that anyone paid that much attention to me aside from him.”

newt took one of my cold small hands and held it within his warm ones. “Y/n, I guess I should tell you this but I really love you. I know it’s kind of random and out of the blue but I had to tell you.” His thumb traced circles around my hand as I processed what he had just said.

“Y-you love me?” He nodded and smiled one of his warm smiles. “I love you”

“I love you to.” I said “could- would you mind if- if I kissed you?” “I don’t mind at all love” he responded and gently wrapped one of my locks of hair that was blowing in the wind around his finger leaned towards me and gently placed his lips on mine washing away all thoughts from my mind as I kissed him back.

[ickleronniekinsemotionalrange]

Bouquet of roses

Pairing: Marcus Pike x gn!reader

word count: 1.5k

Summary: While you’re working, Marcus comes in and buys flowers for his girlfriend.

Warnings: Angst, feelings being felt, sad!reader.

 A/N: hi! this is my first fic on tumblr (so please be kind) i wanted to make my first fic about Pike bc i don’t see a lot of him around here and he’s one of my favorite pedro bois™️. this is kinda angsty, stay still my heart!

(gif isn’t mine it’s from the wonderful pajamasecrets !)

The sun was setting on your little flower shop, painting the sky a pretty mix of pink and orange, the light caressing softly the tulips and daisies. You smile softly at the old lady who was buying some pink peonies for herself. She had become a regular, visiting you at least once or twice a week, sometimes to buy herself some flowers, sometimes to keep you company. 

“Here you go Betty, those are some very pretty peonies you’re taking home” you say to her, handing her the wrapped flowers. 

“Aren’t they?” She answers looking at them, utterly delighted “See you next week, dear!” 

As she goes for the door, a handsome man opens the door for her from the other side. He smiles gently at her and gives her a nod. 

“Good to see you Mrs. Harrington” the man says, letting her through.

“Good to see you too, young man” she says all while she turns her head to give you a wink. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you shake your head and give her a laugh. You had told her about this ‘young man’ before. 

“How’s my favorite florist?” He says with a bright smile, entering the shop.

“Tired” you answer “But better now that my favorite FBI agent is here” tilting your head to the side with a sheepish smile on your face. 

He chuckles, shaking his head, eyes looking at the ground. He looks back at you with that dashing smile you long to see every day when you wake up. You feel your knees go a bit weak and hold on to the counter you’re behind. You sigh.

“So agent, what brings you here?” You ask teasingly, raising an eyebrow. He smiles again. 

“Well I have very exciting news” he says with a wide grin on his face “And I want you to be the first one to know about it”

You look at him expectantly, eyes big, waiting for him to speak. A nervous smile begins to creep on your face with anticipation. You think maybe he has finally realized he’s in love with you. You feel your heart begin to race at the thought. Your get lost in your thoughts wondering how it would be to run your hands through his hair, his head on your lap while he looks you in the eyes. You snap back to reality when you hear him speak again. 

“I’m taking Teresa out for dinner” he says with a lovesick smile. 

Your smile vanishes. You feel a pang on you heart. Teresa. You had forgotten about her. Well, no, not exactly. You were trying not to think about her, the woman that was dating the man you loved. You sigh, defeated, thinking it couldn’t get any worse. If you only knew.

“Oh, that’s nice” you say cooly “Are those the big news you wanted me to know about?” You say, turning around to avoid his eyes. 

He stays quiet. For a moment you think he’s gone, but when you turn around again you find him shuffling in the shop, looking at the diverse variety of flowers and bouquets. Running his fingers on some red roses, he looks at you again. 

“Well, no” his eyes go back to the red flowers “I’m want to buy her some roses, for tonight. I want to make this night special”

Another pang on your heart. Of course he would buy her flowers, and of course he had to buy them from you. Despite the sinking feeling on your heart, you move towards him to pick up the flowers. You avoid looking him in the eyes. You get a whiff of his cologne when you’re next to him, and can feel the warm radiating from his body. You shake your head to keep your mind from wandering again. 

“These?” You ask him, still avoiding his eyes, focussing on the flowers instead.

“You think she’ll like them?” He asks eyeing the roses too. You close your eyes, hurt. He wonders if he’s annoying you but doesn’t say anything.

“Of course she will, they’re absolutely beautiful” you say nodding

“Then yes, those will be just perfect” he says and you turn around, flowers in hand. You walk away so quickly he begins to think you’re mad at him. It makes his heart clench. 

You get behind the counter again and turn around to begin wrapping the roses. It kills you to hear the answer to your next question, but you’re curious so you inhale deeply and ask him:

“So, why is it so important to give a strong impression tonight?” Your back is still facing him as you cut the red delicate wrapping paper. 

“Oh yeah, guess I forgot to tell you” he says nonchalantly “I got a job offer in DC and I want Teresa to move with me”

Your whole world stops. The scissors slip from your hands and hit the ground loudly, but your brain can’t register the sound. You feel your body go numb as the world starts spinning around you. You blink slowly, trying to comprehend what he just said. You stay completely still. When he hears no sound and sees no movement, Marcus begins to worry. 

He calls out your name. You turn around to face him and look him in the eyes. The realization hits you, he was leaving for DC with a woman he barely knew. Tears start to burn your eyes. Marcus gulps hard, looking at you with panic in his eyes. He reaches out a hand to touch you but you snatch it away quickly. You see the hurt in his eyes and wonder how much hurt there was in yours. 

“When were you gonna tell me?” You say, your voice wavering “About DC” you say again, watching him, still no tears shed.

“I - uhm” he stammers and rubs his neck nervously. He knew he had screwed up by not telling you, but this was worse than he anticipated.

“Leave it” you say, voice cracking and letting the tears fall “I can see how much you care” you turn your back at Marcus and bend down to pick up the scissors from the ground. 

You get back to wrapping the roses, shutting your eyes harshly, tears falling and staining the delicate paper. You hear his voice again.

“I know I should’ve told you, but I just wanted to make sure Teresa was moving with me before announcing you the big news, I didn’t think you would react this way-”

You snap your head around, angrily. 

“Ah, I get it then. I am just not as important as your precious Teresa. It’s not worth the while telling me you’re moving away, although we’ve been friends since college” you say, your words and voice laced with venom. A fresh batch of tears starts to swell up in your eyes. You turn around again to tie a lace around the flowers. 

Marcus says your name again, his voice letting you know he is clearly hurt by your words. “I don’t know why you’re reacting this way”. 

You practically feel your heart break at his words. You couldn’t take it anymore.   You take the bouquet in hand and turn to face him. You place the roses on the counter in front of him and look through the glass of your little flower shop. It’s now dark outside, clouded and dark. You look at the man standing in front of you, his eyes desperately searching for yours. You get ready for what your next words are going to be.

“I am in love with you, Marcus” you whisper, soft and defeated.

His whole body stiffens at your confession. His breath catches in his throat and he blinks slowly, still looking at you. Your heart breaks even further. You remove your eyes from his and gulp. Waves of sadness and deception come crashing into you. You think of how foolish you were, just minutes ago, thinking he could love you back and shake your head. You huff out a sarcastic laugh and push the flowers to him, asking him to leave in a silent plea. 

He tries to speak but the words are trapped in his throat. At the sound of his voice, you shake your head again.

“Leave it Marcus” you say softly, wiping your tears with your sleeve “These are on the house” you say eyeing the roses. “But now it’s closing time and I’m tired, so please don’t say anything. Go and enjoy your evening, you deserve it” you give him a weak half hearted smile and gesture the door with your chin

He is too shocked to speak. He absent-mindedly nods and grabs the flowers. He turns to head for the door and you follow him. When he’s standing on the other side of the door, he looks at you again. You nod and close your eyes, new tears staining your cheeks. You open your eyes as you close the glass door and lock it, looking at Marcus for the last time. He stays dumbfounded in front of you still, as you walk to the back of your shop, stiffing a sob. 

He shuts his eyes, pain heavy in his chest. 

How could he enjoy anything now, with the images of the tears in your eyes and those words on your lips?

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

5.13.23 Saturday

7:34 am

Uncle Jun went out as early as 6am but I saw him awhile ago around 4am he is already awake...

Now, is the day of waiting for food fundings... It will be coming from Uncle DD coz like what I said the money it is either a laundry or chip-in or a providence or fundings, a deal on my Aunt Teresa that they will assist me on the way that my adoptive parent's raised me here since I was 13 years old... Supposed to be! But it didn't happen that way...

Still, I'm self-pitying...I wanna buy stuff like wanna buy starbucks everyday and buying so many tumblers in Starbucks...

I still wanna leave the hometown... I feel self-pity... I'm not actually growing for 16 years and I wanna be likeable person in a way if I like you hahaha... I'm always a true friend if I like you. I'm careful... I feel self-pity angels...

8:14 am

Again, since I have the windblow trap...I hate women and men who are judgemental on me that they thought these are my actual life coz they didn't know me the time that we had money here and I had my own yaya and some housemate assistant... They saw me on our down moments, where everything is flat and plain coz of shortage on fundings...

I don't like anyone here... I don't like coz they like me to bail them out... My old friends are different some are real and probably some are fake but I was able to use them nicely and fairly and them as well on me, the time that we had money...

Supposed to be will be going back...Then, I was aborted for many2x times, then I had depression and on and off have to see my psychiatrist just to talk about important things about me but I'm totally ohkay to work and decide... My psychiatrist thingy is important for me, I have someone to absorb all the good and negative elements that I have...

9:47 am

I have windblow trap....I feel kinda stress and sad coz of my tight situation... I need a job away from here... I wanna have wings and always praying to have some "wind beneath my wings".... Coz I wanted to grow and I feel self-pity here...

Someone is trapping me... I'm not happy... I wanted to be center again... I mean meeting good bf's, I mean real men.... It is difficult to find... A pretty face like my exes... But it is difficult to find... But beauty is in the eyes of the beholder...

Old friends are gone and I'm wondering why and I don't wanna face them that I'm walking and not having clothes or bags or whatever... If we need to talk coz no choice at all... I still need to be presentable...

I think I told RC to ask Noreen for my clothes, I guess if they have movement for their own growth then I wanna have clothes... RC is a long time friend and group of JP and JP and Me we dated during college... I'm the baby of the group. And supposed to be RC and Me? Coz Mitchang told me to say hi on RC during college but we figured out that Noreen became my friend and she told me that RC was with Shey.... And Mitchang and me are together forever since college for straight 3 and half years like my baby John... That's why Dra.Mitch can't go up without telling me everything...

I know Noreen spent nights with JP... and me? I spent sometime with JP after college, I just wanted these people be in my life for old time sake... Why, I have windblow trap... JP had so many loop during college and I don't mind coz that is maturity... Mitchang told me that Aimee was angry on JP coz JP just deflowered her... I'm not angry on Aimee or on JP after college coz I was thinking of something,my own life...

I'm not gonna say sorry to Betsilogz and Georgia'z group but I had so many loop along the way... It is me the center and hoping no one is betraying me...

I feel bitter I want someone who can speak English... I wanna be with someone I find amusing to be with most specially these days...

10:32 am

I feel bitter... I have windblow trap... I wanna gain new friends but I can't exist... No job here and I don't wanna commute that far...

I want mature and able to speak English and I know difficult to find... Family and friends are somehow the same but we also put a lil boundaries... But friends are family and our family is somehow our friends... But our actual friends should also have a secret pocket on something...

2:37 pm

I really wanna leave the hometown... I have windblow trap... I need money and I wanna buy starbucks everyday....I don't know how to exist coz of my situation but hoping a good chance will come my way...

I can't see my old friends and I don't wanna appear poorish on a reunion... I don't wanna commute.

I wanna leave the hometown and super self-pitying...

I feel super jealous... I can't explain I feel jealous coz probably I feel fat and ugly and I lost attention and I can't get new upper friends who can pull me up...Men with maturity...

2:57 pm

I need a new phone...I need fundings...I need a new phone angels whew!

I still have windblow.... I wanna get a job away from here... I wanna have collagen shots on my feet and on vagina... Shit! I feel old angels...I feel bitter!!

3:12 pm

I'm trying to sing this it is kinda lower key angels I love this song...XXXTentacion got famous year 2018 and I was busy doing my vocational course on caregiving in Nightingale... Supposed to be getting my master in Biology but I wanted a job for practical reason...

So sad, I wasn't able to cheer for XXXtentacion... I haven't noticed him that year... His voice is something that I wanted to adjust my voice coz I can be husky and his voice is kinda husky as well... It is a challenge for me if I can sing his song...

I wanna have new friends and I wanna be friends with aliens and aliens here those with maturity...

My singing is my hobby ever since... I was a part of choir during my elementary days and me and my adoptive mother ( my aunt Teresa ) were a choir member in the church of christ for 15 years or me since I was in high school until I finished college in De La Salle University.

When you are a part of choir member in the church or in the school or any part of choir organization... It is a challenge to sing any songs if you can adjust your voice to the nature of a particular song.

My adoptive mother (my aunt Teresa ) was really a religious person since she was single, she always pray or making a prayer time during the days that we were happy here and everything were enough... I mean we could afford a middle-class life, like I could open my ac 24/7 ( I used to have ac in my room way back ) and I have lots of carton milk in the refrigerator and I always had my cereal and whole wheat bread... My aunt Teresa will say be quiet, I just need to do my prayer time... Those old good days...

I miss doing my diet food my salad lettuce or my potatoes and cucumber....Oh! Life...

RV used to collect NBA cards, he spent 5k pesoses weekly for his 10 cards ( in southmall )...

Our parties meant to create a bond if in case time of defeat will come,like these days...

Good old days...

3:59 pm

I feel jealous....I feel super jealous if I can't get my new added good and rightful friends even aliens on the uppish, that I need a string to pull me up. But I can't exist....

4:27 pm

Please Doraemon share your door with us here...

4:41 pm

I still wanna leave the hometown.... Interfering without respecting someone's life is totally foul...

5:45 pm

Thanks Janna for this... aw... sweet...

This is a big deal for me angels... Tight budgeting and I'm into liquid bath soap to avoid drying our skin, most specially my skin...

9:04 pm

I still have the windblow trap... I feel bitter, I temporarily closed my Tagged coz everyone is a joke there... I'm transfering on different dating site,hoping to find my soulmate...

I wanna leave the hometown... I feel hurt here, and bleeding...

16 years, too much of controlling me without directions... They just want me to be ugly and fat and grow old for nothing... A particular some fake Monkeya'Z here in the Philippinea of wild animals...