Blackout

I slept through the whole fucking day. When I woke up, I wasn't in my bed. Instead, I was in a chair, facing my dipshit prisoner. Doomsy was staring at me like a deer in the fucking headlights and shaking all over. Blinking, I realized that one of my knives was sticking out of the wall next to his head.

“Did… I do that?” I muttered- more to myself than him, but he nodded anyway

I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake myself, before removing his gag so he could tell me what the fuck happened.

Apparently, I wandered out from my room with the knife, sat down and stared at him like a fucking freak for a while. Then I suddenly launched my ass forward like I was going to kill him, only to plant the knife in the wall instead.

Fuck! I haven’t had a blackout like that since I was hitting the bottle, and now I’ve got a headache to match my worst fucking hangover.

It can’t be crapwrappers’ cancer AIDS, I got that shit under control! At least, I thought I did… No! It’s locked the fuck away and can’t do shit!   

Is the Tailor fucking with my head? Can he even do that anymore with these stitches in me? Even if he can, why would he be making me attack a proxy? It doesn’t make sense.

Maybe the hunger is getting to me that fucking much.

Either way, it’s not fucking good.

Malik, Hannah, Hart, thanks for the support. I’m glad you’re all still surviving out there. I’m gonna wish you all good luck too. I hope you all find a way out of those fucked up shitholes. 

And yeah, fucking “Doombringer”. That shit is still fucking funny. At least I have something to laugh at in all this.

I think you guys might be right, though. I should probably let this one go. Maybe drive his stupid ass out to another community, ditch him and then keep on going or some shit…

Ugh… But I’m too fucking tired to do it right now...

I just

want to sleep a little more…