You know what I love?

Ingratitude.

Of course I'm being sarcastic.

I'm sure all my adoring fans out there in The blogosphere (What can I say Record Keepers are like Rock Stars to these people) saw my little conversation with Sheryl shortly after the death?

Well I'm not normally one to air my grievances in public but she is really getting on my nerves now.

After her outburst got slapped down by my obviously superior argument me and her didn't really talk. Which was all good with me and now she's bedridden and I haven't even had to see her around. Seems perfect.

Get this though! Apparently after we were nice enough to take her and her buddies in and try, obviously not hard enough but still, to save her friend she's repaying us by not paying us. That's right she has not paid any of the rent for her or her friend's stay since the whole reappearance of Ruby, Sal was talking about earlier. If I was in charge I'd of kicked them out after the first failure to pay but I guess Sal is a better but less financially minded man than I and he hasn't kicked them out yet. She probably thinks that with her friend's death and her problems she can get away with things like this.

Well listen here. This is not a charity. It's a business. We run because people are willing to pay. It's not like we charge much. I mean all our clientele are penniless runners and they all manage to pay. There is no excuse at all for you to not pay what you owe.

You're preying on Sal's good nature and it sickens me.

The Worst Doctor

I have just advised an alcoholic patient to continue destroying herself rather than stop altogether.

Yes, it may be healthier for her to wean herself off slowly, especially given the circumstances, but I can't help but to second guess every decision I make lately.  I've not been sleeping well.  Fortunately, I've gone from spending all my time studying to simply sobbing.

Sal has tried to speak with me.  I've brushed him off.  I brushed everyone off that hasn't come to me for help.  I know, yes, I'm not the first doctor in history that has ever lost a patient.  I know Blair won't...probably won't be the last.

But what if I told Sheryl the wrong thing?  What if this is a huge mistake?  What if my advice...what if it kills her too?

I've spoken with...a friend, about this.  She says I'm being too hard on myself, and maybe I am, but aren't doctors supposed to be on a higher standard than others?  We take peoples' lives into our hands.  Aren't we supposed to work hard to be worthy of that task?  Am I still worthy of it?

I don't know.  I don't know what to think anymore.  If I can lose so much confidence in myself over losing just one patient...how can I persist in a job like this?

Cremation

Did you know that, with the proper legal permits, an open air pyre is actual legal in Colorado? In Creston, a group actually performs 12 "open-air cremations" a year.

Of course, this won't be out in the open and it isn't exactly legal. As I stated before, I've known a few lone wolves - included one man who built a crematory in his shed in order to burn the bodies of servants he killed. He ended up going a kind of crazy and threw himself into the crematory one Sunday morning.

I've only used it a few times before - usually for cases where a runner dies and his friends don't want any police involvement.

And tonight I'm going to have to light it up again and watch the flames burn hotter and hotter.

And then we'll say goodbye to Blair.


Addendum: I'm slightly worried about Ivory. Last time I saw her, she had bags under her eyes, like she wasn't sleeping. I knocked on her door and she barely noticed me, so intensely was she reading her book, one of those big, thick medical textbooks.

I'm try talking to her some more, but I don't really know how I can help anyone these days.

Trouble With a Capital T

Ruby's back. Probably because of our lack of protection. I've seen her a few times now, just sort of waiting outside, sitting on benches and at street corners.

And that's not all. Alyssa and Curtis and their friend Sheryl are still here. I'm giving them leeway, because their friend died and I know how hard it must be for them. Still, I have a troubling feeling whenever I see them, especially Sheryl and that creepy doll that she sometimes leaves around. And Alyssa broke one of the doors, I think.

In any case, as long as they don't bring any trouble, I'm letting them stay.

No Sleep

Been catching up on reading instead of sleep - don't think I can sleep on a night like tonight anyway. In any case, I found that our guests have their own blog and I've been getting to know them through their words. It's somewhat strange, getting to know a person after they are dead. Like discovering a treasure you know has been destroyed.

I almost wrote 'destoryed' there. As if, instead of dying, they had just been taken out of the story...

Another dead person and how the hell does one put a horse on a record?

So a bunch of new people showed up.

Normal occurrence...

Except we don't know what they're running from so have to makr them all down as unknown which means special precautions.

One of them was like incredibly injured and died shortly afterward so had to add them set up the precautions and then remove them which as I've mentioned in the past is a huge pain in the ass...

and lastly one of them is a fucking demonic horse.

I don't even know.

Probably secretly a fear gonna murder us all but for some reason Sal is totally fine letting it in here.

Whatever again as said before increases in danger really hold no worries for someone constantly on the edge of death.

Oh I should probably say something for the dead guy... girl? Whatever... Oh yeah that was another little record keeping problem. The dead one was some androgynous freak and it's name was of course equally androgynous. So for gender I had to put it as who fucking knows. Course now I can put it as dead so it doesn't matter anymore.

Right I'm not really hurting the opinion of me as a heartless bastard am I?

Um... It's always sad when someone dies to these monstrosities...

I'm sure this thing could have led a happy and long life otherwise or whatever...

There you go I'm covered.

Mourning

Why does death hurt us so much? Why does it tear us up and leave us ragged?

I didn't even know their name until Ivory told me. Blair. I saw the sadness in her face as she told Blair's friends what had happened and the next minute one of the women - Alyssa, Ivory said her name was - just jumped on her. I pulled her off, but I know that feeling. The feeling of wanting, needing to hit something, anything at all, to transfer your pain to someone else.

The man - Ivory said his name was Curtis - he's just standing there, not speaking, not moving. I know that feeling, too. Not wanting to move at all, not even breathe. Not wanting to feel a thing. Comfortably numb, as the song goes.

It's not death that hurts us, I think. It's not the concept of dying, since everyone and everything does it. It's the emptiness that accompanies it. A lacuna, a void, where some song has been silenced and there's nothing left to fill the hole in our hearts.

I watched Alyssa until I knew she wasn't going to attack anyone else, then I slipped away and out the door and into the night.

I hadn't said the Kaddish in years, but there I started to say it. And then I stopped, because I saw something. Against the darkness, it was barely visible, but I could still see it's red eyes. I could hear its panting, so much like a real dog.

It silently gazed at me and then turned away and it was gone.

I said my prayer in silence.

Nothing

I

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

I should have been able to do something.

The patient, Blair, was brought to me in ragged condition.  Xe was...on death's door, and had been for a very long time.  That xe was still alive was...was a miracle in and of itself.

I should have

There must have been something I could have done.

Xe had been mutilated.  Xir body was...flayed, almost to the bone in places.  Foreign objects had been...inserted, plants allowed to grow within the body.  Rooting into the flesh.

I tried.  I worked as hard as I could.  But, in the end, I failed.  Xe couldn't hold out, not against that kind of injury.  Xe was strong, but...sometimes that isn't enough.

I wasn't skilled enough. If I'd known more, if I could have done something more...if I had a team, or better equipment, or better knowledge or more experience.

But I don't.  I didn't.

I failed Blair.

Xe's dead.  Xe died on my operating table.  Not enough blood.  Too much shock to xir body.  Any number of things that already should have killed hir long before I began the surgery.  They were too much.  Too much for xir.  Too much for me.

Xir friends...haven't taken it very well.

The young man, Curtis is...doing nothing.  He's just...numb.  Empty.

The young woman, Alyssa attacked me.

She knocked me to the ground.  She hit me over and over.  And I let her.  Because she's right, it's my fault, it's all my fault for not being better at this.  For not finding a way to save xir.

Sal pulled her off of me.  She reacted negatively to being touched, but...she stopped attacking me.  Came to her senses.

Part of me wishes she hadn't.  A black eye and a bruised lip don't seem like a fair trade compared to what they've lost.

I can't deal with this.  I just

I'm going back.  To my textbooks.  To my old lecture notes.  To anything.

I need to be better.

I have to make myself better.

I have to not fail the next Blair.

More Guests

So we have four more guests: two women, one man, and one severely injured individual that Ivory is taking care of right now. Oh, and a horse. Yes, it's been that kind of night.

I don't really know what else to say. What else to write. I've been kind of in a fog since we reopened the hostel (heck, I've been in a fog since the Judas incident), but their appearance just sort of pulled me out of that and into the moment. Because, honestly, when's the last time you've seen a horse?

I kid.

In any case, I hope their friend makes it. They look pretty sad already.

I'm obviously still here but you already knew that.

In fact not only am I still here but I spent the downtime updating the records.

Course the record update consisted entirely of everyone is gone but still.

I'm not happy about that Sal. Did you really have to shut this place down? I mean yeah I get it but there's no where safer than here even without the protection. Closing this place down just sent a bunch of people back out into the cold unforgiving world.

Most importantly me. Luckily I foresaw this event and stayed in the area.

Actually even more importantly you let a whole bunch of them get away without paying.

Horrible way to run a business.

But yeah back now. Few people coming back which means my job and stress are back as well. The bureau by my bed is again filled with... Rosters.

Anyways the point is I'm back.

Return

A part of me wonders why I've come back.

It's a small part, but it's there.  A nagging sensation, telling me to give this up for good.  Telling me to pack my bags and flee back to med school while I can, to a proper internship like my parents believe I'm working at.  Somewhere I'll never be held at knifepoint.  Somewhere monsters will never come to murder my patients.

But only a small part.  There was never any doubt.  Jackie's told me that much was obvious.  She says I live to help.  That I was born to sacrifice myself for others.  And maybe she's right.

Whether we are protected or not, these people need my help.  I will give it.  I knew this could be a death sentence coming into the job.  I won't falter now that it's actually going to get difficult.  There are always more lives to save.

There are always more stories to tell.

Starting Again

The others returned to work today. I think they looked somewhat relieved to still have jobs. Ivory, I think, looked hopeful. And everyone's just kind of avoiding talking about what happened. I think right now, that's for the best.

We've received a few guests. Runners still need a place to sleep, a roof over their heads, food in their stomachs. We can still help them.

No incidents yet. Perhaps there will be later on, but right now all I feel is relief. Relief and a bit of dread - dread in knowing that this won't last. It can't.

Something will eventually happen. All we can do is minimize the damage.

Here We Go

I got out of the hospital about a week ago. I still have my arm in a cast. It itches like hell, but the bones were reset and I'll heal fine. Physically, that is.

Mentally, I don't know. I've stopped reliving the events in my head, I've stopped trying to figure out what I could have done differently. The fact is, what happened happened. I can't change a thing.

The police had my office closed off while I was in the hospital - "still an active crime scene," they said. I had John ask everyone who was still staying there to leave. They didn't need to pay their bills, they just need to get out.

I stepped back into the building today. The windows were shuttered and the rooms were empty. The police finally took down their crime scene tape and my office had been cleaned out, like nothing had happened there. Like no one had died in there.

Do I dare reopen the hostel? Without the protection of the Dying Man piece, we could be swarmed with Them. They could eat us alive for all I know.

But if I don't reopen, what do I do with my life? Do I go on the run again?

I remember my father telling me one summer afternoon, "There are no rewards without risks, no life without risks. You got to embrace the pain, son."

So here I am. Risking everything again.

I've pulled open the shutters, aired out the rooms, and put the sign out on the front door.

We're open for business.