My Tragic Backstory. Warning: Graphic Content

Hello my donkeys, I’ve been extremely busy and I cannot reveal what had happened just yet!

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“Mask” Photo by Jon Wallach 2013© CC BY-NC 2.0

Anyways, I’ve decided to share my backstory since you don’t know much about me. I guess I never really do any of these things since I’m too busy focusing on the present. Well, let’s start off with the simple facts. My mom, my dad, and me. My mom figured out after they had me, that my father was an ogre, and had a talent for disguising himself as a human for so long. He didn’t spare me the details of how he did it, but I took that over in order to be normal. I wasn’t normal up until 5th grade, when I shot up my classroom after taking so much bullying. I killed 17 children that day. I changed my name, practically erased myself from the world. Alan, my past name had gone away, and I turned into a girl, Alana. I had spent so many years on the design of the perfect girl; having a tight waist, average bust, round hips, and fair face. Asian, since it’s the most unexpected of them all. It was hard to manage when I was supposed to grow older, I guess I just never really aged significantly. I was on the hunt, I had been observing Justine, Kail, and Linhy individually up until they did the unexpected. They merged into one! It was high school, the best place ever. In 7th grade, I was presented with the sudden death of my father, he had hung himself and left a note saying that I was the reason why he killed himself. I was impacted greatly by this, my rage, mixed with guilt had brewed inside of me for a long time after that. He used to beat me, then drink, then beat me again, then drink, and drink, and drink. One day, he drank so much he didn’t know who I was. He called me an intruder and stabbed me in the leg. He then continued to beat me until I was bloody. But, I got past that. It was good that he killed himself, now I had all the time to myself. I could be myself. I was so ready for high school, I could bury myself in a book and no one will ever care. That’s what I thought. I made this blog, to vent my feelings of rage and hate into something where I could say it was fine. And it was. For a little while. During sophomore year, the second year of my blog, I fell in love with Tiffano, Pepe the frog. He was the most handsome, green creature I’d ever laid eyes on. It was love at first sight. The way he transformed, I put down my pen and pencil and stopped observing them for a while, struck in awe. They ran from me that year.

I continued to pursue Tiffano, but he only used that love against me and flirted with me as a distraction. I was broken. I flew back to earth with Justine that night, my heart shattered. They continued to hurt me with exposing my secret, I was Shrek. I don’t have one donkey, I have all of you. You’ve heard my story more than you’ve hear theirs… Who do you believe? Do you really think I’d do all those things to them. Going from a blogger to straight up murderer? Pshh… who do you think I am..?  They made all that up to hurt me.. for no reason! So who do you think is the innocent one? Me? Or those lying snakes that call themselves a family?

Well, that’s all my donkeys! Gotta fly!

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Alone

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It has been over a week.

Over a week since the incident. Over a week since Kail has stopped speaking to us, or at all. Ever since Kail’s family was kidnapped and brutally murdered by Alana, he has retreated into his own mind, not coming out. Ever. The last thing we see every day is Kail sitting as far off into the distance as is safe, staring off, a tiny head disrupting the sprawling horizon. The first thing we see each morning is Kail, still facing away, small, hunched figure blocking the rising sun.

I figure he must eat sometime, sleep sometime, or he would have been with his parents by now. But we never see it. All we see is his back, curved and defeated, sometimes wracked with sobs too far away to hear.

I wish I could do something. We all do. But we know Kail would simply reject us and push us away. Besides, its better to give him time to grieve. He lost his family, his whole life, and he rightfully blames Alana, but knowing Kail, a little of his head blames himself too. I know I would.

We all suffer and go through loss. It’s a part of life. And in those times, we all need a little time alone.

Sacrifice.

Maybe. Just maybe, I thought. Maybe I would fix this once and for all. I was selfish, a selfish prick who thought he was special. Here’s a recap…

 

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Photo by LucyJClarke 2012© CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

I left for my parents, my biological family. Alana had warned us before, about how she was becoming psycho rather than just some fangirl. A few days after she sent us that chilling Skype call and Linhy called the police, she sent us another one. Of my family. I could see the fear in their eyes as Alana held them hostage. I thought about it.

“We’re in this together,” said Linhy, the others also confirming. I felt myself trust that it would be okay. But I left alone that night.  I left for Lilac Valley, my old home. The small suburban town where we the only Asian family for miles. I took the car Alana had set up for “us”, well, I was the only one who used it. It was a long drive of anticipation and cold sweats, the nervous feelings building up inside me like a shaken soda can. My leg was constantly tapping, my heart was racing a million beat per minute, occasionally skipping since it was going to fast. The driver glanced at me every now and then in the mirror, his face smug. Oh God, did I ever feel like I needed my friends. They’ve always been right there, by my side, and I was right there next to theirs in their time of need.

“What will I do when I get there?” I thought frantically. “Will I break out some Jason Bourne or 007 moves and break out of there? Or will I just die with the rest of my family?”

It wasn’t like the first option, lemme tell you. I got there, a couple of henchmen grabbed me and put restraints around my wrists. Where did she even get these men? I still don’t know. They pushed me inside of my old home, the rest of the neighborhood was empty… And there they were, sitting captive on the couch next to each other, just like when I received the Skype call. Have they eaten? Are they okay? These thoughts were popping out of thin air, which contributed to all the more anxiety. She sat me down in front of them, they didn’t seem relieved to see me, more of worry. That made me even more nervous.

“Well, well, well,” Alana walked into the room, full school girl uniform. “If it isn’t the prestigious Kail.”

“Take off the disguise, everyone knows the ugly ogre that hides underneath those clothes,” I spat at her as she walks around my chair.

“It seems as if someone’s a little feisty today… Did someone hurt people you love? Oh wait… I did!” She cackled, a smile stretching from ear to ear, revealing her horrid teeth.

What happened after that… I don’t remember. It was almost like a flash of light, and I blacked out for the rest of the time, or she put me out. I woke up just recently, blood all over the floor, and the smell of it congesting my lungs. It smelled horrible. I was still in the chair, my arms untied, holding a hatchet of some sort. The hatchet was bloodied, and so were my hands. My heart began to race… What did I do? I looked up, my family had been mutilated, decapitated, chopped into pieces. Did I do this? I screamed, sobbed, burst into tears. I thought of killing myself, bringing the hatchet down on myself now. I looked around through the room through the constant flowing of tears, only to find a note written by her.

“You did not kill them, I did. I made it look like you did it. Make a blog post about your experience, or else I’ll give the police a big hint that you did it. After you make the blog post, tell everyone that I am innocent.”

Alana is not innocent. She is the one to blame for the murder of my family and many others. If there’s anyone who’s the real villain here, it’s her.

Evolution of Thought and Realizations

Human evolution

Before Alana disappeared, I was hell bent on finding her, exposing her, destroying her. We all were. It was impossible not to feel that way. She murdered our friends and had gotten away with it. There is nothing wrong with wanting justice, after all. That was before.

When we were chasing Alana, the search only fueled the flame. Of course, is that not always how it is? Finally taking action, finally following through and making sure that our threats were not empty. It’s enough to make anyone excited. That’s right, we were all excited. It was a twisted sort of excitement, the kind that would only be satisfied through the downfall of the target. That or it would be calmed by failure. When Kail brought the computer to me, I could smell the success. We were so, so close.

After the video, after I called the cops, I sat in my room for hours. I was disgusted. I wanted to throw up everything in my stomach after what I had seen. This person was a monster. No, we knew that already. What I had discovered was that she was sick. Her mind was past the point of return and nothing would make her turn from her hideous ways. That was what I thought after.

Now, after we have heard the news, after Alana is already gone without a trace, now I wonder if it is all worth it. Is it worth the prolonged pain and suffering? The grief and hardships? Is getting revenge all that important? Sure, we could call it “justice” but in essence, it is revenge. 

It’s really not worth the trouble. Alana is not worth the trouble. I may change my mind in the future, but for now, I say that Alana will get what she deserves, sooner or later. Whether it is here on Earth, or in the pits of hell. She will get what she deserves.

Never. NEVER believe what you hear.

At least not without seeing for yourself, with your own eyes.

I used to believe everything my mother told me. That everyone who was different was evil. That everyone who wasn’t smart was a heathen. That every single thing that did not conform to the standards of society was just trying to be special. Not anymore.

As a child, I read the newspapers. Well, only one. I thought everything they said was the fact, the whole story. I trusted all their reporters and writers and photographers. I trusted that one single paper told the entire truth. I don’t believe in that anymore either.

Kail and I were able to get onto this blog in order to offer a new perspective. To report on the story from another side. I cannot tell you that Alana’s story is a lie, although I know myself. I cannot tell you to believe my recount of things any more than Alana can tell you to believe hers. And I cannot tell you who is in the right.

We write what we see. We give you our version of the story, and each person has a different version. All we can do is offer the outlines and leave them. It is up to you to decide who to believe, who to trust. You can even put together your own version of the “truth.” Any way you think of it doesn’t matter to us. After all, we live through this life. You just read about it.

Haha! I’m back my donkeys

Haha! Hi my donkeys! I have some good gossip for you guys, and it’s an incredibly long story.

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Photo by Chung Wing Yeung 2010© CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

As you know, last time I left off I was taking off for the moon… I believe so. Well, there’s a ton that happened within that span. After that, it was a rollercoaster of emotions, escapes, and sabotages! Whoo! This may seem a little crazy, but I actually found them… AGAIN! They were writing on this blog… I read all of the trending posts, somewhat exposing me, but it’s 2017, isn’t there a sexuality for ogre yet? OGRE LIVES MATTER! Anyways, yes, I sexually identify as a trans-human, I was born in the wrong body and gender, you feel? So, I have been doing a little bit of flying and I finally located that hot mess of a group of friends and they have totally taken me the wrong way! I just want to document their lives in a way that’ll make them as rich and famous as the Kardashians, a total fake group of people who don’t have to work a day in their life! But, they had taken me the wrong way… A crazy stalker who flies through people’s’ windows at night… But that’s not really me… You see, I was just looking for something to live for, my parents had abandoned me at a young age when they realized that my father was secretly part ogre and I had become a full ogre. My mother was disgusted and left us… My father was abusive and drank a lot, resulting in his untimely suicide. I was left alone, I had no other way to go. I was bullied by the other kids because I was green and they said I acted like a girl, always wanting to talk about other people the way that girls do. I was best friends with Kail during preschool, just a couple a queer boys that didn’t know anything. I met Linhy in 3rd grade, briefly asking what “abstemious” meant. I still didn’t understand what he said, something about temperance. Kail had ditched me, told me he couldn’t hang out with the gay boys anymore, and that he’d never be friends with a gay guy like me. There they all were, making fun of me because Kail led the group. It was right to document their sorry lives, because one day, they won’t have those anymore…

Back on track my donkeys! ANYWHOO, I had found their plane on the way the Thailand, there Kail was… holding hands with little Brad when it should’ve been me. I should’ve been on that plane if only he hadn’t been a little straight boy who’s scared of the world. Linhy… He’s been secretly mocking me my entire life, acting so smart as if he were better at grammar than I were at grammar. I was infuriated. All I did was knock out the pilot, a little pixie dust or something to the windshield and it popped right off, sucking the pilots out. Down Justine’s plane went, so quickly, too. I wish that it went slower. I wanted the hear their screams, so I went into the cabin where they all were. Kail’s eyes meet mine, and I feel a sudden wave of remorse. I can remember that feeling, I still don’t understand why I felt that way. I jumped off, and watched the plane go down in flames. I did it. I finally murdered those who haunted my childhood. Or so I thought.

I must continue this story for another time. Gotta run!

News Travels

2In the old days, hundreds of years ago, when something happened, the news would be delivered by word of mouth or horses. Newspapers were common, and so were telegrams that carried messages to family. News travels so fast these days. The second something happens a camera crew is on the scene and millions of videos/pictures are uploaded onto social media. People call and text each other and the entire world knows in an instant.

Recently, there have been a lot of murders in our area. When people were kidnapped, everyone knew. When they were found, everyone knew. It didn’t matter how fast the news traveled, how quickly word spread. Every single time, no one would find the bodies fast enough. They would be found a week dead on a riverbank, in a shed, in the tall grasses of a field. There was absolutely no correlation between the victims whatsoever. None but one. Each body had strips of skin torn out. Some from the back, the legs, the softest part of the cheek. And their hair had been shaved. Man or woman, all the victims were found bald and mutilated. No other violations detected.

Recently, Alana had started a fashion blog. Kail had shown me the day before, saying that maybe Alana had given up the killer stalking routine and had moved on to more humane hobbies. We moved to the library and watched a few videos on Kail’s laptop, trying to be certain that Alana had moved on.

It was… normal. All she did was talk about the outfits that she had seen recently and drink dark red wine. Maybe she had gotten bored and moved onto a new subject. Maybe she finally grew a conscience and learned how to be a proper person. I was foolish to let myself hope.

Honestly, you would think that I had never watched The Silence of the Lambs the way I didn’t put that together. Alana’s latest video was entitled “New Project” and depicted herself standing at a mannequin, wine glass in hand. Kail clicked on it and we sat through her long introductory spiel. Then she announced that her new project was called “Human” and took a swig of wine. Alana grinned at us through the screen, her teeth stained red.

Kail shoved the laptop away from him and pulled out his earbuds with such force that the laptop followed them onto the ground. I grabbed my phone and immediately called the police, directing them to Alana’s house. Maybe this would finally be over.

On the news the next day, videos showed the police kicking down Alana’s door and investigating her house. Everything was the way a normal house was supposed to look, at least until they reached Alana’s room. On the mannequin, was a thick wrap of mismatched leather. Different colors sewn together with brown, black, red, yellow, thread. Little pieces of thread were glued on in various places to synthesize fur. It was obvious now that Alana was never normal and could never be. She would always be a killer. It was then that we decided to search for and find her.

It wasn’t like there was anything that the authorities could do about it. Alana lived alone and was long gone by the time the police came around. We watched the news coverage live and listened to the commentary as it all happened. But it was still too late. News travels so quickly these days. Too bad it’s never of any use to anyone.

This may be the end.

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Photo: headoverheels.org

As we continue this vigorous search of tracking down Alana, I can’t help but think that maybe this isn’t right. That maybe we should all return and go our different ways, forget about what’s happened. Move away, go back to our families. Maybe just allow Alana to kill every single one of us, one by one. How can we tell whether or not she’s watching me type this right now, we’ve moved hotels three times in the last 2 weeks, scraping dry my bank account that was meant for college. Using up Linhy’s saved money for the private university he was planning on going to, also. I see the light drain from our eyes everyday, the more we live, the less we enjoy being… alive.

We’ve gotten closer to her location, maybe if we stay in the same place for a long amount of time, she’ll just come to us. She’ll just come knocking on our doorstep with a bomb. She’ll plant it and press the button, killing other innocent people in the process.  It sounds like a lame James Bond movie, but it’s a possibility.

I don’t know what happened, we were so happy. Just a group of the oddest combination of people sitting in the cafeteria, sitting in the library, camping out on the moon, happy. It was… until… gosh.. I can’t even begin to describe the horrors of what I saw. The blood, the empty eyes staring back up at you sending a chilling whisper down your spine, as if their spirit, ghost, is right behind you, saying a last goodbye. It feels as if I lost something so dear to me, something that I loved with all my heart, multiplied by three other deaths. I was holding the hand of the dead, I already felt his hand turning cold by the time I woke up. Why didn’t I die? Why didn’t we all die? Why couldn’t I die?

A few days ago, I got an alert on my Skype. I immediately rushed to Tiffano’s and Linhy’s rooms to tell them once I knew who it was. We picked up the call, allowing her to share video. We didn’t turn on ours. My heart had dropped, it was racing faster than a car chase, a million horses. She said… we had 3 days to get back to Lilac Valley, where my old town was before we moved. There she showed my parents, my brother and sister, all held there. She giggled wickedly. It was either go back there, or she’ll put them on a plane, and see who lives the crash. She had arranged a car to drive me back. All we had to do was call a number she had given to us. I couldn’t process what was happening. It was as if it weren’t real, but this was real.

It was 5 am this morning when I left the hotel, checked out, and called the number. I’m writing this since we stopped for the night. I decided to leave Tiffano and Linhy and take this on my own, after all, this is my family. I’m sorry Tiffano, I’m sorry Linhy. I have nothing left to lose. This might be the end.

My Newest Fear

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I used to fear the monsters under my bed. The irrational thought of a creature below me as I slept terrified me. I had my mother check every night and still kept the light on, door cracked.

I used to fear the man at the window. The idea that there might be someone watching me was something that I was utterly convinced of. That was when I was five years old.

I used to fear the boys that bullied me. The ones that were bigger, the ones that were stronger. But I knew that I far outpaced them on the field of intellect and would leave them behind eventually. It wasn’t a real fear, just the primal aversion to physical pain.

I used to fear my parents. No, what I truly feared was failure. I feared bringing home anything less than excellent for that would mean a less than excellent life. That would mean failure in my future. It would mean that I was no better than the boys that had tormented me in my earlier life. I feared being less. I feared being average.

I used to fear Alana. It was, once again, a primal fear, something left over from our evolution. But this time, for the first time, I feared for more than myself. I feared for all of us. For the threat Alana posed to our safety, for the threat she posed to our lives.

For the longest time, I used to fear the ones we left behind. I used to fear the empty shells of Brad and Brandon. Of Justine. They came to me in my sleep, asking why, why, WHY I couldn’t save them, why I didn’t save them. I feared their cold faces and their haunted eyes.

Then there was nothing at all. There was only anger and the desire for retribution. Anger that I pushed down. Anger that I ignored. For all my earlier talk of revenge, I ignored my anger and got back to my life. Only now, over two years into college, do I remember. I remember and I fear.

I fear that I have lost it. That anger. I fear that I have pushed it down so far that it is unreachable. I fear that it has disappeared in my desire to ignore it. I fear that I have forgotten the horrors of what Alana has done to us. I fear it with more of my being than I have feared anything else. I fear I have forgiven.

Locating Alana, Planning What’s Next

As we continue our search for Alana and locating her, we can’t help but mourn for our lost friends, our family. We loved each other, and I never realized how much I really cared for Justine until I knew she was gone. It feels like a void that may never be filled. What will happen after all of this? What can be done? Will I go to prison for the next twenty years? Or will I be executed? What about the rest of us? Will we all be ruled guilty? Maybe we’ll all end up in the same prison. Maybe we’ll all get to meet Justine, Brad, and Brandon again. I wish that our time together weren’t nearing the end. I itch for time to blog, and long for this prolonged hopelessness and sadness to end. I can only assume that it’s the same for Linhy and the others. I guess it’s time for me to go… Until next time, if there is a next time.