The Town's Gone To Hell

I can't take her to the doctor. They can't explain the black blood that's escaping her. I've tried bandaging them all up myself, but they've started leaking through, and they've been staining my walls. And the stains spread. And where the stains spread... what seems like small black-leaved saplings grow out. In any case, I bandaged them up, gave her a glass of water, and tucked her into the couch. I'm going to try to find out who she is.

Dammit. I thought these... fucked up things- first the Willow and now... and now there's this white porcelain thing that I can't even wrap my mind around... they've gone too close to our children.

Hell, even the Sweat and Tears plant-people were only 16 or 17 at oldest, and they looked... it's like if you knew they were still 16 or 17 but they seemed to age with stress and enhanced feelings of resentment and pain to the point where they seemed ancient in their youth. Sorry if I'm getting a little- poetic, here... but still I saw the strain that those things had on them and it's not healthy. This girl's suffered enough. There are two different kinds of cuts- the foremost ones are hundreds of little jagged wounds like she's been stabbed with broken glass; some are still open and seeping, some almost scarred completely. The other ones seem to be burn marks. I don't know what could have made those and I don't want to think about it.

I'll ask her questions later.

And I don't know what's been going on in the town. The curtains have been drawn and I stayed to myself today but the things I- heard- outside.

I heard the weeping. The weeping came in from one side, sounded like it waited at the front door, and then there were three knocks. Then after another minute or two, the sound faded away again. I also heard screams. Anguished, human screams. Fires. Police sirens and radio squawks. Ambulances. And things less than human.

I'm not taking a look outside until it's absolutely necessary. I think whatever's outside will take away all the sanity I have left, and I'm only clinging to a small thread of it as it is.

Just... Jesus Christ I know this isn't a nightmare. I wish I could wake up and these creatures would be gone, this girl would be completely fine, the screams and the chaos outside would silence and the world would be all good again.

Feh. That would be like asking for my children back. Impossible.

...she's waking up. I'll be back and when I speak again I'll hopefully have some answers. Just some peace of mind- I'll never be sane again but I'll at least know some of it. And... and I'd like to know.

Jacob Mills, signing off.