The Puppet Factory

You may know me, you may not. Honestly I'd prefer the latter. Sadly this isn't always the case but I don't really understand why. Not necessarily liking people, I expected them to at least sense my negative vibes and stay away to some degree. Why do humans flock over to trouble like its a magnet? Life for me was great sitting up in a room alone and disconnected. Alright, this may all be coming out wrong.

Look, the shit already hit the fan more than a couple of times in my short time on earth and, I don't need anymore problems. I still have to find a way to get rid of the ugly stains and marks -not to mention the horrible stench- that linger after.

Wait are you and I on the same page here? 'Cause I'm not talking about the shit anymore. I was referring to, you know, rotting flesh and blood...

This wouldn't have been my first time being kidnapped and I'm getting hints that it won't be the last. No. Actually while I sit here surrounded by heavily armed strangers I can't help but think that this is actually the third time and, its rather pleasant. I'm sure to some it is wrong of me to think this way but its true and my opinion won't waver no matter how you slice it.

Did I want to escape my current life? To some extent, yes. But everyone has wanted to do so at some point in their lives so why can't I dream a little?

Did I expect it to actually happen? No.

Do I regret ever wishing it? ... I'm not sure. Yes and No are playing 'tug of war' and it appears that I am the rope.

Right now I just pray my mother is alright. I couldn't care less about the other two fighting 'children' I left at home. They'll find their feet again.

I don't want anyone dying to save me or dying while trying to kill me. No matter who you are- whether I know you or not- just don't die with me knowing.

Don't die because of me.