Maddy couldn't remember a winter when they had such a terrible storm on the horizon. Not any time outside of the depths of summer. The clouds are dark, purple and black swirls behind the skyline of Eidolon, clouds illuminating with the flashes of lightening.

She stands on the seemingly weak railing of the bridge while the thunder crashes and she can feel the electricity in the air. The electricity is thick in the air, dancing across her skin like an itch she can't scratch. A mosquito she can't find.

I stopped by the orphanage today. It’s been years. There aren’t nearly as many children there as there used to be, and that breaks my heart, because I know so many of the ones who could be there are out in the streets instead.

Today, I went to see my father with Ian. I hadn't really thought it through at first, but it was a good thing Ian was there. I think he's the only reason my father didn't drag me home right away. I tried to tell him that I wasn't coming back, that I needed to be at the Drake, that I needed to be anywhere but that house, but at first he wasn't listening. It took Ian's assurance that I was perfectly safe there in order to persuade my father to let me stay. I told him I was going right out after this talk with him to start searching for jobs again and he seemed pleased, but still worried.

Glittering points that downward thrust,
Sparkling spears that never rust.
What is it?

I don't think I've ever felt so relieved. Just sitting here watching her breathe feels like cool hand against my forehead. At least she's safe. At least she's alive.

Still. I didn't find her. No, she found me, broken, bruised and battered, half asleep on her bed. I still failed her. What if it happens again? When she's not actually safe? Or if next time I don't fail her but fail the boys, those who rely on me for everything.

* A natural assumption that there would have been copies – not one I made.
* No difference anyhow – couldn’t have accessed them.
* Options for then limited. Now, retrospect: Jackson. Then, all I knew, he was in on it. Anyone could have been.
* Jackson not an option.
* Any options at all? No.

TEN FUCKING YEARS

I've been neglecting my journalings, but lately it seems I just can't find my voice. Even prayer seems exhausting today. I feel like I’m just throwing myself on my knees before the Lord and begging for something to change. I’m not used to feeling this desperate, and it scares me. There’s just so much that seems out of my control. I feel so out of touch with Danny, but I’m so worried about him; I just don’t know how to get him to let me in. I haven’t really tried—I’m afraid to force it, I suppose. And I’m afraid it’s something I did—or maybe didn’t do, who knows.

Am I love with the idea of him?
Yes.
Is that good?
No.
Why>
Because it puts unrealistic expectations on a normal human person with faults and quirks of his or her own. Also sets self up for heartbreak. Heartbreak doesn't look like fine and therefore do not want to experience it.
Solution?
Being friends is more important. Do not have many friends. And Maya Walker tries to make you wear high heels =/= friendship.

To Do List:

1. get something to eat (drinking on an empty stomach isn't fun) - COMPLETE
2. get tickets for Friday
3. look up self-improvement books
4. go see Jenny and cry my eyes out
4. Go see Jenny to see how she's doing

5. go buy some new clothes for... maybe date on Saturday. NOT FANCY

I was here
But now I'm gone
Did what they told me to
All. Day. Long.
Why did I do it?
Might. As. Well.
What did it get me?
I.Can't.Tell.

It's raining. Again. For the most part I love the rain, but it's been raining all damn week. Gran has been complaining to Erik about the garden flooding again but it isn't like she's going out there to bask in the sun and she doesn't like the garden anyway.

I need to get away. I know I say that all the time but I want to. Change my name, get some new clothes and go to Egypt on an archeology dig. That would be excited. The Temple of Isis is supposed to be lovely and I'm not scared of any mummy curses.

This serial killer episode is getting annoying. I may not be involved in business at large, but I still have things to do - and it's becoming increasingly difficult with everyone scurrying home when it gets dark. I'm tempted to put all DiGiovanni associates on the lookout for him, see if we can't find him before the police proper, but I'd have to let them all know I'm home to do it.

I'll save it for a last resort.

Whew, Friday's come and gone safely, and Daddy wasn't invited to any grand openings. I still can't believe I managed to run into an O'Malley - and an important one, at that! Of all the luck. Well, it's not like I'm anyone of consequence, so she'll probably forget all about me. The sooner the better, I say.

I wonder if Daddy has anything planned today; the movie theater is having an Fred Astaire-Ginger Rodgers marathon, and I want to see Swing Time. Maybe he'll come with me?

Victims thus far:
First known victim: Jane Doe- found October 1
Female, Caucasian, brunette, 5’2”, approximate age 20-25, thin/underfed. No name, no known associates. Found in a dumpster by sanitation worker.

The news just keeps getting better, doesn't it?

Dig a hole in my brain burrowed beneath your fingers.
Call the words on your lips out of tune as they linger on
and down the pipe they'll drip like a portrait in the rain
from the time we remembered to begin again without you
on the sphere of space, where time was meaningless
to a point beyond the stars where hope is hapless, and free
to the girls on the back side of your bar
as they wait in silence to wonder where you are going
when we pass them; like a ghost riding the high
we've found in the needles stacked to a sky of white

I should've gone. I want to see her again. Didn't even open the invitation until near midnight, once I was deep enough into a jug of hooch that I couldn't find the place if I wanted to. And I did want to, but I can't trust it. Their rewards, their favors, every little drop of insight that tells me she's doing well? I hate them. Some days I wonder if twenty years'll pass and she won't know her daddy, another twenty and I'll end up pissing my bedsheets down at Eidolon General, maybe see her visiting one of those suit-wrapped shitheel Walkers.