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Why do I fight?


Ejlertson

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The emergency teleporter was supposed to be infalible but it glitched. They never found out why.  
In an instant I was left motherless and my father without his wife.  

He seeks comfort in the bottle and on bars.
Hearing him comming home late and drunk is bad.
Having to pick him up passed out on bars is worse.
Hearing him cry but refusing to share the grief is the worst!  

I cope by picking up my mothers mantle.
I stand where others run.
I fight where she fell!
 I do it so no other little girl wont wake up to a mother not comming home.
So another father wont lose his wife.
So another girl wont be losing her daddy to grief and drink.

 I know my father resents it and fear for me, but I have no choice.  

Im sorry daddy. Please forgive me. Please talk to me again. Please hug me   

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Before you post or reply to anything online allways remember Wheaton´s Law!

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On 10/2/2020 at 6:09 PM, Patti said:

Thank you for sharing this with us.

You are welcome. I wasn't sure strangers would read, or even respond to this, but my therapist said it might do me good to put it into writing.

 

Next step is to share it with my dad, if he can stay sober long enough to read it, instead of strangers online.

 

Knowing someone read it makes me horribly selfconscious. Weird how much more scary it is to share my thoughts, than fighting Helions and Skulls.

 

Likely that's why I posted it under a throwaway anonymous account. We wear masks for a reason, both in the city and online.

Hmm thought for the next session...

 

I better get out there. 

Foods in the fridge for dad, I hope he makes it home to heat it.

 

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Before you post or reply to anything online allways remember Wheaton´s Law!

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Yesterday was bad.
It starte out allright. No scratch that, it started out great.
I assisted in bringing down a Skull operated drug operation. It was huge, scary and I didnt feel entirely safe. Some close calls and rookie mistake where made, but the fear of a glitching medic evac kept me on my toes and sharp.
If the day ended there everything would have been god.

But...

Halloween season has triggered something and on my way home zombies where all of sudden running wild in the streets.
Thats jusked sick and fucked up.
Halloween should be happy kids and candy, not horror style maddness in the streets. 
Well I couldnt have that spoil the season so I started unleashing arrows at them and that did the trick well enough. 
Untill one of them vomited at me. It shot out like a big glop of aimed goo and I got it in my hair.

Thats when I lost it. Thats what broke me. 

Not Skulls shooting at me, swinging hatches or throwing dark magic agaisnt my defenses. Not having a building nearly burn down around me. Not claws or teeth from zombies.
But vomit in the hair. That did me in. 
The memories, still fresh, of me hauling a near passed out drunk dad home from a bar. Undressing him and putting him to bed and then as I over to pick up his clothes, he turned over in the bed and threw up down my back and in my hair.

So I ran, found a quiet corner in a park and broke down sobbing behind a tree. Then I went home, stayed in the shower for most of an hour and wrote this entry.

Tomorrow I wont run... Or if I do, I at least wont cry afterwards.  

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Before you post or reply to anything online allways remember Wheaton´s Law!

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