And Then The Murders Began

Chapter Thirty-Five: A Wolf and Their Bike

Far too long later, I'm off, and I'm staring back up at the place that used to be my family's, before we ended up where Miguel hides out, that now mostly destroyed remnant of how things used to be, and I just have to shake my head at the memories, how everything's fallen apart now... It used to my family's, now, well, it's just mine, I guess? I don't really know and I'm so freaking frazzled... How the hell it came to this, I have no fucking clue. I need to find help- no, I need to be my own help- no, I can't trust myself to do anything because of this fucking executive dysfunction- people look at me like I have to be freaking nuts because I can't seem to just keep my head screwed on, that I can't remember to do the things that everyone else always seems to just be able to do without having to think about it, and I have to stare right back at them, like they're nuts... attention? Huh, what's that?

I'm here, though, and I still, somehow, remember that the key is always at the bottom of the flower pot right there on the stoop. Never understood why, especially because Mom would always water the damn thing and the dirt would seep down into the space underneath where the key is and it would always end up dirty and my brain being the way it is, I wouldn't want to get my clothes dirty and so I would always wipe it on my fur-

-and shit, I just did exactly that, didn't I, without even thinking?

How the hell I haven't died is beyond me, I'm always so fucking out of it...

But at the same time, I'm not going to not be thankful that hey, you know, even after all of this, my heart is still beating and I'm a live wolf.

Hopefully I'll get to stay that was for a good long while now... and I need to find those bastards, Irma and all of them, and then hopefully I can throw them in jail and get this all done with...

But then my mind starts going again and I can't get it to stop stop stop!
I need to think, but fuck, I'm out on the streets and dammit I'm, well... let's just put it this way,

fall's pretty quickly starting to slip away into winter here and my fur is still all fucked up and I'm... pretty freaking broke.

What to do, what to do, I may have a pack behind me supposedly, but I'm not going to be one to count on them right away oh so quickly; every single fucking time that I do that it ends up coming back to bite me right on the ass...

This isn't really what I want to do here, but I feel like it'll end up being the best plan in the long run, and that's better than nothing, I suppose, considering that I've been mostly going around with zero sense of a plan in place whatsoever.

Oh well I guess, and seeing as I have no plan, winging it might be my best option here. I'm unpredictable, even to myself, if I don't have a plan so maybe that'll throw anyone who might want to come after me off my trail?

I don't know but I sure as heck hope so, just for long enough that I can get things set and ready and then when things are good to go I can lure them in.... I'm seriously staring to think about going for the possibility- scratch that, the high likelihood- that using myself as bait is going to, at least in the long run, turn out to be the best option for me here.... Yeah, that's the plan now, use myself as bait, trying to let as many people as I possibly can that would be interested in catching me know that hey, I'm worn and broken and now I'm seriously down on my luck because ya know I'm a wuss and I can't take care of myself (I wish I didn't have to tell myself that there's a huge fucking slash s there, but I know that I won't get it if I don't)-

I hate my brain, I really really freaking do. Anyways, though anyways anyways... I need to lure people in and then, of course, I'm gonna have to contend with the obvious creeps and predators and folks like that that would all love a taste of me and then, considering that, I should probably start studying some form of martial art or something but no, that takes both time and patience and dedication (that's not both, Electra, that's three things and you can't use both in a list like that my old English teachers would have told me [screaming, of course, because I was just a stupid fucking pelt who couldn't be bothered to learn anything and work on that fucking accent you sound like a savage animal.... Never mind of course the fact that I'm literally a wolf])....