October 19
Oskar's room
Every night I stare at the window. I want for something to happen. For a change. My mom she does not understand. I try to talk to her, she is only worry about what the town will say. Thomas, Conny, and Micke do bad things to me. And I accept them. They beat me, spit at me, play their dumb games. The teacher is only worry about making herself look good for that man who comes and visits her.
And dad he is ok, but there is a reason he does not live with us. So every night I wake up, stare outside, look at the dark, what do I? I don't think there is nothing for me. Why? There is no one for me, no one to rescue me, to like me for me, if there was... I wish there was... And that that person would come, would come soon....
Thirty-One Years Ago Today
Re: Thirty-One Years Ago Today
Sunday Night - Approaching midnight
18 October, 1981
Blackeberg
EEA and I are going to role-play. Here is the scene.
The drive from Norrköping is over. The man, hired by Håkan, has left. Håkan and he together carried the furniture and the boxed possessions up from the light moving truck. Everything is in the new apartment. And with the truck empty, the man has been paid and has driven off.
It is late, almost midnight. Eli and Håkan are in their new Blackeberg apartment for the first time. (Eli has already been invited in.)
Håkan is being played by EEA.
Eli is being played by gkmoberg1.
18 October, 1981
Blackeberg
EEA and I are going to role-play. Here is the scene.
The drive from Norrköping is over. The man, hired by Håkan, has left. Håkan and he together carried the furniture and the boxed possessions up from the light moving truck. Everything is in the new apartment. And with the truck empty, the man has been paid and has driven off.
It is late, almost midnight. Eli and Håkan are in their new Blackeberg apartment for the first time. (Eli has already been invited in.)
Håkan is being played by EEA.
Eli is being played by gkmoberg1.
Re: Thirty-One Years Ago Today
Ok. Here we go. 
This job would be easier if only she would help. But she is angry at me. So what if we had to move again?
"Are you going to help me?"
But she does not answer me. So we had to leave quickly, but at least she fed, I got her the blood. Doesn't that count.
"Will you help me please?"
This job would be easier if only she would help. But she is angry at me. So what if we had to move again?
"Are you going to help me?"
But she does not answer me. So we had to leave quickly, but at least she fed, I got her the blood. Doesn't that count.
"Will you help me please?"
Re: Thirty-One Years Ago Today
Here we are. Yet another new place. Had he been more careful, we could have stayed for a while longer in Norrköping. Instead he was careless, just careless enough to let things come undone. So we had to move. So, yes, all is his fault right now.
I hear him asking me for help. I was looking around the new rooms and closets. I walk quietly across the apartment, over to where he is standing. He wants my help. He gestures with this hands at all the boxes. Ugh. I very deliberatly pick out a box that is mine. Yes, this one has some of my toys and clothing. I can tell by the scent that it is nothing of his. And with that, I turn and walk away.
It is only after I walk away, my back towards him, carrying my box, that I speak to him.
"How much do you want to do tonight?"
Ha, that will aggrevate him.
I hear him asking me for help. I was looking around the new rooms and closets. I walk quietly across the apartment, over to where he is standing. He wants my help. He gestures with this hands at all the boxes. Ugh. I very deliberatly pick out a box that is mine. Yes, this one has some of my toys and clothing. I can tell by the scent that it is nothing of his. And with that, I turn and walk away.
It is only after I walk away, my back towards him, carrying my box, that I speak to him.
"How much do you want to do tonight?"
Ha, that will aggrevate him.
Re: Thirty-One Years Ago Today
What did she say? How much do I want? Doesn't she know how much I love her! I everything I do is for love. I have sacrifice everything for her. But I know what will get her.
"Enough for a drink."
Yes, I have not drank for over a week. I promised to her once we came here I would not drink. A drink sounds nice. I am too tired. A cold beer would help me move this boxes. And so I begin to get this stuff in.
"Enough for a drink."
Yes, I have not drank for over a week. I promised to her once we came here I would not drink. A drink sounds nice. I am too tired. A cold beer would help me move this boxes. And so I begin to get this stuff in.
Re: Thirty-One Years Ago Today
... a drink? That figures. And drinking... drinking is likely somewhere the cause of why we are going through all this. Becuase he had a drink. Because he decided things would be easier with a drink in his belly. Because he then went - I will wager - and tried to carry out what he said he would do for me. Which was... to get me a drink. Oh, I get it. I like the cleverness of his whit. Sure, he wants to have a drink. He drinks far too much. But what he was doing, I'm sure he hints at this, was to get me a drink - of sorts.
So I call out to him from the other room:
"Good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well used."
Two can play this game. There, a line from Othello. Let's see if his well-educated mind grasps the intent. Sure, he drinks. But does he know when to stop? Sometimes not.
So I call out to him from the other room:
"Good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well used."
Two can play this game. There, a line from Othello. Let's see if his well-educated mind grasps the intent. Sure, he drinks. But does he know when to stop? Sometimes not.
Re: Thirty-One Years Ago Today
Wine, who needs wine when I have my bottle of vodka. I have it in my jacket and as she talks to me about wine I drink drink for my health. This will get me going. She mocks me using her quotes, she knows I was a teacher. Well lets drink to that.
"Wine, no thanks. Just a drink will be enough."
After I get all these boxes I will drink and there won't be no one to stop me. Does she even know why I drink. I tell her and she begins well I will so it will be her fault why I drink.
"Wan to know why I drink?"
"Wine, no thanks. Just a drink will be enough."
After I get all these boxes I will drink and there won't be no one to stop me. Does she even know why I drink. I tell her and she begins well I will so it will be her fault why I drink.
"Wan to know why I drink?"
Re: Thirty-One Years Ago Today
This I have to hear.
I put down my box, yet unopened, and return across the apartment.
"Yes, tell me." I say calmly.
Yes, why it is that you choose to drink? Why do you choose to lose control of yourself? I've been drunk more than you. Yes, it's true! No need to discuss this with him, though. But I stay clear of the stuff. Most of it tastes aweful. Makes me sick.
I put down my box, yet unopened, and return across the apartment.
"Yes, tell me." I say calmly.
Yes, why it is that you choose to drink? Why do you choose to lose control of yourself? I've been drunk more than you. Yes, it's true! No need to discuss this with him, though. But I stay clear of the stuff. Most of it tastes aweful. Makes me sick.
Re: Thirty-One Years Ago Today
Oh she wants to hear all right! I drink the whole bottle of vodka. I approach the room where she is.
"To forget about those two that I killed for you."
I shake the bottle of vodka so she sees. Shake shake. I go outside to pick up the rest of the boxes.
"To forget about those two that I killed for you."
I shake the bottle of vodka so she sees. Shake shake. I go outside to pick up the rest of the boxes.
Re: Thirty-One Years Ago Today
I see the bottle in his hand. It's empty. I listen to him and then watch as he storms off.
Sigh. How many times before have I heard that? Do I even know? How many have all those before said this same thing to me? Most nearly all of them do, given time. Some never do, but that's been rare.
I stand there and think back through the many many years, remember many of the faces of those who have been with me. And of this moment, repeated many times over. All those faces from so very long ago - I don't remember the names of half of them. And of course they're all gone.
My mind turns over what to do in this moment. I've lived out all the angles. Here at this moment, I have at times cried. Often because it meant something to me. A slap. At times I haven't. At times we have argued, winning and losing where this argument can go. At times I have simply left. At times I have manipulated. At one other time, well, well, I don't want to rememver all the times I've stood here...
...
It is a while later, after a long trek back through years nobody but me can remember, I hear him and return to myself. He is off elsewhere in the apartment, making noises. I can smell the vodka, hear his stumbling, sense this imbalance.
I track him. It's easy and he is unaware. I find him in the kitchen, distracted by the chores of unpacking. I glide silently into the entranceway and watch. From the boxes he has carried in, he is lifting items into the shelves. His back is to me and I watch how the vodka is working on him - from the inside. I know in time it will win. In a short while he will be asleep. Then I will have the place to myself.
But what to say. Which way to continue? I contemplate the routes. I don't know.
Maybe I'm as tired as he is.
"Are we going to do any better here?"
Sigh. How many times before have I heard that? Do I even know? How many have all those before said this same thing to me? Most nearly all of them do, given time. Some never do, but that's been rare.
I stand there and think back through the many many years, remember many of the faces of those who have been with me. And of this moment, repeated many times over. All those faces from so very long ago - I don't remember the names of half of them. And of course they're all gone.
My mind turns over what to do in this moment. I've lived out all the angles. Here at this moment, I have at times cried. Often because it meant something to me. A slap. At times I haven't. At times we have argued, winning and losing where this argument can go. At times I have simply left. At times I have manipulated. At one other time, well, well, I don't want to rememver all the times I've stood here...
...
It is a while later, after a long trek back through years nobody but me can remember, I hear him and return to myself. He is off elsewhere in the apartment, making noises. I can smell the vodka, hear his stumbling, sense this imbalance.
I track him. It's easy and he is unaware. I find him in the kitchen, distracted by the chores of unpacking. I glide silently into the entranceway and watch. From the boxes he has carried in, he is lifting items into the shelves. His back is to me and I watch how the vodka is working on him - from the inside. I know in time it will win. In a short while he will be asleep. Then I will have the place to myself.
But what to say. Which way to continue? I contemplate the routes. I don't know.
Maybe I'm as tired as he is.
"Are we going to do any better here?"