On an unrelated note before I start, my condolences to one such "Nathan Umbra" and his friends. He offered me help, even if I shunned it at the time, and even if I'm quite sure that I'm fine on my own, but it's the thought that counts. I didn't know him at all, and never properly thanked him for the offer.
So I suppose I am now, even if it's a little bit too late.
All right.
Time to recap the last week or so.
So basically, Jesse showed up last Saturday, the fifteenth. Late, as usual, but what do you want from her. She's Jesse.
Anyway, she shows up out of the blue, literally. Like, I open my closet door to retrieve a shirt and BAM.
Falls out of my closet.
Despite the fact that I'd just been in it a few minutes earlier to put away some stuff. Ffft, more questions...
Anyway, I obviously flip my shit and she's going "No, really, I'm okay, seriously, I'm fine," etc etc, while she's very obviously not okay at ALL. She looked even worse than when she appeared over my bed with a knife; Her black hair was a ton shorter, like boy-short now instead of that emocut thing she had before and now it was literally one huge tangle, and she was absolutely covered in bruises and scratches and had one long cut down her forearm and her clothes were all muddy and...I think it was blood. I think. I really don't want to think about that.
Oh, and she was coughing like an elephant was caught in her throat.
I ran and got cold medicine, clothes, bandages, a brush...Then I sat her down and cleaned her up. When the medicine kicked in- it helped quite a bit- she started to..."explain". I'll edit out the coughing bits to make it less chopped up.
"Lexi, you gotta come with me when I leave. It's not safe at all. We need to stick together."
I asked why and what was going on.
"It's...HIM. He's after you for some reason, and I don't know why. I think it has something to do with your dad."
My dad this, my dad that...I'd been hearing enough about my dad in the past few days. I decided to drop it and asked who 'Him' was.
She just gave me a 'duh, you retard' look. "Him. You know, Him. Come on, Lex, you have the best memory of probably anyone on the whole fucking planet, and yet I'm remembering before you. HE WAS THERE THE WHOLE TIME. Right besides you. And you never noticed!" She cut off here to laugh and have a long-ish coughing fit. "But really. Think back. Remember! You'll see, we can't stay here! They'll all DIE. We have to leave, we have to go, we should leave a soon as possible, maybe even tonight-"
I interrupted to ask again who 'He' was and to give me a description. She rolled her eyes and replied, "God, and here I thought you were intelligent. Him. Tall, bald, and faceless. Ya dig?"
This would be about the point that I looked horrorstruck, said I had to go to the bathroom to hide and think about it for a while and for her to stay where she was so I could talk to her, and fled the room.
Then I went downstairs and called the hospital and explained that I had someone with a mental illness on my hands, and that when the ambulance came, they should turn off the sirens, and where my room was and etc etc. I then went into the bathroom, washed my face, flushed the toilet, and went back into my room.
Jesse, at this point, was sitting with her knees pulled to her chest and watching me with these huge eyes.
(Bloodshot, I may add, if that's important at all)
But basically, I asked random questions and let her ramble for five minutes until the paramedics showed up, strapped her to a board, and left. She was screaming bloody murder the whole time, and I feel AWFUL about it, but...
She needs help. She does. She knocked her head on something, lost her marbles. She's totally lost it.
I may sound like I'm overreacting, but you didn't see her.
Also, my mom still didn't recognize her. She asked who the random girl being carted off was, so I told her that I had no idea and she just appeared and was very obviously insane.
She accepted that answer.
I hate to lie to her, but I have no idea what's going on, and this has very obviously gone beyond a practical joke.
On the subject of my mother, I finally summoned up the courage after dinner on Monday to ask her about dad.
Now, my dad...My dad is a scientist or something, I don't even really know, but he works with the military, I've heard. Anyway, when I was eight, my parents divorced. I still don't know the reason; I'd never seen them fight or even raise their voices at each other, but it was mutual, for some reason. My dad moved away to Minnesota, I believe.
All right. Enough of my babbling, here's the "interrogation" of my mom. I would type it all out paragraph-style, but this post is long enough as it is, so let's keep it short and have it a script-type format, shall we?
Alexa (me) : Mom, do you know where dad is?
Mom: ...No, sweetie, why do you ask?
Alexa: Well, he's my dad, and I would like to get in touch with him, get to know him.
Mom: sighs Alexa, I...Don't think that's the best idea.
A: Why not?
M: looks uncomfortable for a minute, then sighs again You're old enough now to know the truth, I suppose...I knew you'd come asking eventually. Honey, you dad wasn't exactly the most healthy of men. Have you ever heard of schizophrenia?
A: Yes. Are you saying he was schizophrenic?
M: Unfortunately, yes. He stopped taking his pills because they fogged his head, he told me. I couldn't risk you getting hurt, and he agreed. I tried to convince him to go back on his medication, but...He wouldn't. He said that he was going to go travel. So he did. We broke up, he left.
A: ...That was it?
M: Yes.
A: That's the WHOLE REASON you broke up?!?!? (can you tell I was yelling because over use of exclamation points/question marks?)
Basically we had a bit of a yelling match here, because really, it can't just be me that thinks that that is not a very good reason to break up? From what I can tell, that was the only reason. Is that a bit of an overreaction? Couldn't she have spoken to the doctor and MADE dad take his meds?
I don't know. I'm a bit sensitive about this, it's the reason I grew up without a dad.
I did get something out of it, though; When my mom stormed up in a huff, I happened to see her address book. So I...snooped a bit?
I found an email address; Dad's first initial (C, for Charles) and Steele, out last name. It could just be a random dude who happens to share our last name with the first initial of C, but it's worth a shot, right?
So I sent this;
"Dear C. Steele,
Would you be a Mr. Charles Steele? I am currently looking for said man, and I happened across your email and figured I'd give it a shot.
If you're not, I apologize in advance for the mistake. Thank you.
Sincerely,
Alexa S."
I sent that last night.
Let's see if I get a response.
This is getting fishier and fishier. Or, to quote a book I enjoy, "Curiouser and curiouser".
Once again, as a closing note, my condolences to Nathan and his friends. I'm sure he will be missed.
EDIT: Or maybe not so missed, according to the most recent post on the blog. Whoops.
~Lexi
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