◀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴛᴏᴏᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ɴɪɢʜᴛsʜᴀᴅᴇ

[Jameson Dade]

• Hey everyone, my name is Jameson and I’m a drug addict. A couple of weeks ago, I got my six month token, so I felt pretty good about that. But I’m always going to be an addict, even when I’m off of that **** for ten years. I think that was the hardest part for me to accept when I started this program, accepting that there’s no such thing as a cure for what I am – what we are.
  
  I guess we have some new people in, and it’s been a couple of months since I shared my story, so I wanted to do that. My narcotic of choice when I was really active was heroin. Before that, I was just mainly into a lot of pot. It wasn’t exactly hard to get my hands on. My dad was a dealer, and my mom was one of those people who started drinking for breakfast and always had to smoke when she drank. But cigarettes were expensive, and it was easier to just steal from my dad’s stash. I have to hand it to them though, they never fought in front of me and were a really good couple despite…everything else. I guess I shouldn’t be so hard on them. I’m the one that made my choices.
  
  Anyway, I started smoking at around twelve. I didn’t get into anything harder until I got into high school and met this guy. His name was Max, and he was basically the exact opposite of me. Had the Midas touch, where everything I set my hands to tends to turn to **** really quickly. He was into sports, and got good grades, and everyone just really loved him. Even to this day, I don’t know what he saw in me, or why it was that we clicked the way we did, but it just…happened. He heard he could get some prime kush from me. I got the impression he’d never actually bought any before, and I didn’t trust him at first. Made him hang out with me for a week solid before I would even let him touch the stuff. By then, I didn’t make him buy it.
  
  We were together all through Junior year, and that’s when we began to experiment with other things. It was my idea. I think, looking back, I knew he was a lot better than me. He had options and places he could go, and I was a selfish kid. I wanted to keep him to myself, so I pushed the issue. I got my hands onto whatever would keep us locked out of our own minds but in each other’s arms. For months, it worked. I never gave much of a **** about school, but his grades began to drop. He got kicked from the baseball and swim teams.
  
  Eventually, we stopped going to school altogether, and spent a lot of time at his place. His parents got tired of it, and his father kicked him out. His mother continued to filter him some cash whenever she could, and we stuck close to my place until a drug raid saw us out on the street. Eventually the money from Max’s mother became less and less frequent. We had no savings because we spent it all on whatever we could find. For a while, we lived under a tarp in one of the local parks. We got good at finding abandoned buildings or drug dens to sleep in. We made money by begging, because neither of us had degrees and we were consistently too fucked up to get any work done.
  
  He died.
  
  I guess that’s just the easiest way to say it, just get it out there right now. We had managed to scrounge together enough cash to stay in a hotel for a night, and blew the rest into our veins. We went to sleep curled up together, and when I woke up, he was gone. Just gone. I didn’t see it happen, I slept through the whole thing. I didn’t want to be alive anymore after that point. I remember his mother inviting me show up to the funeral. She had never liked me, and I’m pretty sure I killed her son. I got high the night before and it was really bad . The six or so months after his death are a blur in my head. I remember less than I forget, like patchwork moments stitched together by weak, strained thread.
  
  I got picked up eventually. Court ordered rehab or jail. It was a lot nicer than I deserved, but the judge knew my father. I think he felt bad for me. I was in rehab for three months and as soon as I got out, I relapsed. Then I got in touch with this group and…well that’s my story.
  
  Sometimes I think about Max. I think about how his life would have been different if he’d never met me. He could have graduated high school. Gotten a scholarship. He could have completed college, gotten a good job. For all I know, he might have met someone nice, started a family. Instead, he’s nothing but bones. See what I mean about the opposite of the Midas touch?

[Jameson Dade]

• Hey Max, I brought you some milk duds and those spicy Cheetos fries you like. Five whole boxes and bags of each to make up for not bringing you anything last time. I mean I guess on some level I know this stuff gets nicked by some homeless person or someone that works here at the graveyard, but you never even liked flowers. Remember the time I tried to get you some poppies and you started chewing on them? I called you a goat, and you used your pointer fingers as horns, headbutted me in the shoulder until we were both laughing.
  
  So that’s why you’re always so horny, I said.
  
  Then you just looked at me, called me stupid, and kissed me.
  
  I miss that. I miss you a lot still. People say that time makes things better, and I guess that’s true. I don’t cry like I used to. Like you know how I can get when I get into my head. Sobbing until my shoulders are shaking violently and then I have that ugly red puffy eye thing going on. There are some days that it still happens. Maybe once a month though instead of once a week or once a day. It’s been almost a year and a half. I finally took the test to see if I can get a diploma equivalent. I promised you that I would study as much as I could between shifts, and unlike usual, I managed to keep my word. Anyway, I did really well and applied for one of the local universities. I have the envelope with me right here.
  
  Didn’t want to open it until I was near you.
  
  Oh.
  
  I guess I didn’t get in. No problem, Max. I’ll figure something out. You know how I am with plans. If one doesn’t work out, there’s a dozen waiting on the back burner. For now, I guess that means I can focus on saving up some cash. It’s hard though. I thought sticking to the straight and narrow would make things easier. Never having to run from police, never having to worry about someone trying to take your fix. It’s not as violent as the street, but it’s not really any easier either. My job at the gas station doesn’t leave me much money a month after I pay rent, utilities, and pay your family back for the rehab.
  
  Which reminds me, I talked to your mom again. It seems weird, but since you…you know, we’ve gotten really close. We talk about you a lot. You get your eyes from her, you know. We share stories, and she keeps telling me I don’t have to pay your family back, but I already took a lot from them. It feels wrong to me to not try and give a little back when I can. Your dad still hates me, but Maddy is just. ****, she’s just like you when we first met. She does so well at everything, has a whole wall devoted to nothing but her trophies and sashes.
  
  I remember you telling me not seeing your little sister was the hardest part of being kicked out.
  
  I tried to talk to my mom and dad again. My mom was as responsive as she always is. When I got to her place, she was passed out in her bath tub, had puked all over herself. I don’t even know what she did. I just turned the water on and by the time she was done cursing at me, I helped to get her into bed. It’s times like this I’m thankful I’m an only child. I never really thought she was a functional person, but I guess dad was the one that kept her going. How ******* ironic is that? One day I’m going to open up the newspaper and see that he died in a fire or something. I should probably check in on her more, but we never even talk, and I always worry I’ll end up…well you know. She doesn’t exactly hide her stash well.
  
  Dad is being dad. I visited him at the prison and he wanted to know when I would be able to deposit some money into his debit account. You know how he gets about his snacks. He hates prison food and can literally talk about it for an hour solid. I think I’ll try and get some money in when I pay next or something.
  
  They’re so lifeless now. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve sobered up.
  
  Anyway, I should probably get going. I don’t want to be that creepy guy stalking around the graveyard at night. See you next week, butthead.

[Jameson Dade]

• I heard on the radio that they’re doing this study at some university. They’re trying to study people who leave their major life choices to chance – like when people try to decide if they’ll get married or something based on the flip of a coin. The hypothesis is that the engine by which the choice is made is usually just a catalyst used to force them to decide for themselves. Like in the case of the coin flip, watching it fly through the air becomes the point at which people just…know what they want. They know right then.
  
  The point really is they want to prove that people never really leave things to an even, honest chance. Everyone has a selfish side of themselves that says ‘well maybe I don’t want to marry this loser; we’ve been together ten years and he’s just now asking’. You know? People just want an excuse to live without regrets, without having to look back one day and wondering about the great what if. I think people should live their lives like that without having to cling onto some kind of excuse. Like regrets don’t help anyone, right? They ju—
  
  Of course I believe that.
  
  Hey, hey wait, doc. I mean yes, I do have regrets, but I think it’s a little much to say that? Like you basically just said I’m full of ****. And…well yeah, I guess I mean it does sound kind of like Dr. Smith. You and he are good friends or something?
  
  Oh. Just professionally.
  
  Yeah, he told me why referred me to you. Look, it was just some phone calls. When we first started our sessions, he told me I could call him whenever I wanted. I didn’t know he’d take it so ba—well yeah, I guess I did call him thirty times in an hour that one time, but he wasn’t picking up and I was having a real rough time.
  
  Yeah. He told me it was causing some issues with him and his wife. I just…
  
  Yeah, okay. He told me that I was trying to transfer my emotional dependence from Max, that I grew up in a household that fostered heavily codependent relationships, and that’s why I he had to refer me to you, because if I didn’t stop, he was going to have to call the cops and put it in their hands. I just like having someone to talk to. Like I get that it’s not ‘healthy’, but it’s better than getting high isn’t it? I was with the same guy for my entire adult life basically. My family is fucked up, he’s gone. I get lonely.
  
  And yeah. That wasn’t the end of the end. He said that I have serious impulse control issues. That if I had any violent tendencies or anger issues that I would probably be in jail on criminal charges. He said that I was more of a danger to myself than I ever would be someone else. He said that my grasp on reality is tenuous most of the time, that I love vicious cycles. Addiction to feed the fantasy, fantasy to feed the addiction.
  
  Well.
  
  I mean…
  
  I really don’t want to talk abou—
  
  Okay. Well it was the last night I had contact for him, and I was really stressing him out, so he said some stuff. Like he said that I was nothing but a junkie, a worthless street-thug wannabe. He said that I would probably never function the way a normal person should because I’ll always take the easy way out. That I crave approval, so my life is never going to be in my hands, and that so long as I give in to my obsessive nature, I’m going to be trash.
  
  Yeah I…well they caught me before I bled out.
  
  Hey. HEY! No. You won’t ******* talk about Dr. Smith that way. He was just saying what I needed to hear. Don’t ******* say that **** about him or I will walk out right ******* now an-
  
  I don’t care!
  
  Get off that topic now. As far as you are ******* concerned, he was just doing his job. Do you understand? It was a shitty situation. ****. Happens. That’s how the world works. Sometimes people say fucked up stuff to each other when they’re mad. I know I’ve done it.
  Right. Moving on.
  
  I took a look at this questionnaire you gave me, and is this for real? Like it all sounds like pageant questions. I thought maybe it was some kind of joke. I mean there are dozens of them, and a lot of this stuff I don’t even think…
  
  Two questions? You just want me to answer two of them a session. Okay, I guess I can handle that. I can skip around right? Let’s start with number 20 What do you consider to be your talents?
  
  I can uh, sketch and stuff? Like it’s nothing too impressive, but sometimes I paint. Dr. Smith told me it was a good way to express myself. None of it is really all that good, but I hang them around my apartment. I used to want to try rap, but that didn’t go so well. Uhh, when I was younger, I wanted to be a cook, but that was before I realized that I needed to know how to make more than Mac N’ Cheese with some hotdogs cut into it. I guess that’s it? Not really a long list, but I guess if you included some of the less legal stuff from my past it would be a little longer. Not by much though.
  
  Next question. Number 5 What are your dreams for the future? See, this is the one that made me think these were a joke. Like why even is that impo-
  
  Okay answering now. Uhh. Rain check on that one. Sorry, doc. Let’s try number 12 How do you feel about animals?
  
  I like them. I have a Bucket. Well he’s a dog, but his name is Bucket. He’s a golden retriever, and he’s basically the best thing in the world. My NAA sponsor said I shouldn’t have a dog until I can take care of myself, but Dr. Smith said it was okay. I mean I feed him the good stuff and everything. Like that meat based food instead of the corn crap. He eats better than I do, and…oh. Time’s up?
  
  That’s it? We didn’t even get anything done.
  
  I guess that’s true. You really think I’m going to be just fine?
  
  You know, doc, you’re kinda awesome. Thanks. Be back next week at this time.

[Jameson Dade]

• My views on religion?
  
  Oh come on, doc, that’s not even a-
  
  Well I guess it is on the list, but is it really important? Like psychology is all head stuff, and religion, that’s a monster. Like it’s like politics. Everyone loves to talk about it, but they get all up in arms about the specifics.
  
  Well yeah. I haven’t got anything against talking about it per se. I think…
  
  I think that everyone is a little piece of heaven. Like we’re all just tiny little fractured pieces of something colorful and bright. God is a child, and we’re those little bead bits at the end of the kaleidoscope. But it’s not just us. It’s all the plants and animals, all the stars, and worlds, the storms, and quakes. It’s all of everything, and God is just the kid, and when he looks into his toy, it’s just a big jumbled mess of colors.
  
  It’s chaos.
  
  Beautiful chaos.
  
  But see, sometimes when he turns the end, the pieces fall into patterns and lines. Sometimes, they become familiar shapes and designs that remind him of the past. From the void, comes form. And when that happens, God reacts like a child would. He smiles, he loves us because we made something pleasing to the eye, and he made us.
  
  God is innocent.
  
  God will never understand us. Not really. Cause where you or I see everything from a microscopic scale, he sees everything. And everything he has ever made, he loves. The happiness, the sadness, the pain. He loves the draught and flood. Everything. S’why you can’t blame him for everything that happens in the world.
  
  And when people speak for him, they don’t realize they’re speaking for a child. See that’s where all the fire and brimstone comes from. If you were to focus on a kid’s tantrums, of course you’d think they were terrible. But I don’t think he’s that way.
  
  Maybe that's just me.

[Jameson Dade]

• Audio journal only accessible via Jameson’s personal system.

  
  So Twilight lied. The Vampire Diaries lied . The Originals. *******. Lied.
  
  I do not glitter sparkle.
  
  And worse, I did not get a magical six pack of abs that every vampire and their brother seems to have.
  
  Let’s see though, there has been so much that happened lately. First off, I got shot at by a cop. The funny thing is that I wasn’t even going to steal anything. You see I’ve been really cautious about when I go out in public because of what happened last week and…****. I haven’t told you about that have I? Anyway, put a pin in that, will explain more later. So I was on my way to one of the shops because I have taken to drinking those blood packs and no joke, I was just getting off the transit when a cop opened up fire on me! Right in the belly! I mean I wasn’t even properly off the train, and there were other people all around me. I’m pretty sure the guy was just ******* insane or something, but I didn’t stick around to see what was up.
  
  And you see, if that wasn’t the worst of it, I also got reamed out by the sun. With that one, I actually was in the middle of a heist. I lost track of time and when I came out of one of those little shops in Wickbridge holding a microwave to my chest. Next thing I know, it’s really hot. Like really hot. I’m pretty sure I caught fire, and then there were all the ugly burns. Needless to say, I wore my hoodie down over my face for the rest of the day and was generally a pretty grumpy boy. Shot at and burned in the same day! This vampire thing really isn’t the walk in the park you’d think it would be.
  
  But on the plus side, I enjoyed Halloween a lot. I dressed Bucketu p as Darth Vader and then went trick or treating as Princes Leia. Yes. Complete with head buns. It. Was. Awesome.
  
  Back to last week though! Because this is kinda important. I was feeding on people at first before I figured out that the blood packs were a better idea. Apparently for more reasons than one. I guess that being an allurist or whatever means that I draw attention, which is bad for the Masquerade (least I think that’s what it’s called). But yeah, so I was walking down the street and had my headphones shoved in my ears. I’ve been listening to a lot of Deftones again lately, and Digital Bath had just started when some crazy guy came running up on me. He was screaming about how I had bit him and I was really taken off guard.
  
  Thank god we were alone!
  
  I guess I inherited this thing from Morama where people remember when I bite them. So I went to cover his mouth with my hand because I didn’t want to get into trouble with the vamper cops or whatever they’re called and he bit me! Well naturally I dug my fingers in, and kinda…jerked down a little bit. Next thing I know the guy’s jaw comes right off. It was just an ugly little horror show.
  
  He’s currently in my closet till I can figure out what to do with him.
  
  Bucket keeps trying to eat him. Weird pooch.
  
  Thankfully, I’m pretty sure my feeding issues are done. Morama (godsend that she is), got me in touch with a blood doll, which I guess is like a donor type person. He gives me blood, and I give him cash. I have more of that than I know what to do with these days. Some guy keeps buying my stuff at auction in bulk and I made quite a bit that way. Plus the blood doll is easy on the eyes, so it’s like a win-win-win situation for me.
  
  Anyway, I guess that’s everything! Till next time. Princess Leia signing out.

[Jameson Dade]

I let him go the way a child lets go of a balloon. I watched him float up into the sky. The wind caught him and behind the cotton candy white clouds, he was a little speck of red. Then he was gone.

Okay. So I suck at metaphors, and I didn't let him go at all like a kid with a balloon, but it's been forever since I've done one of these journal entries and I wanted it to sound snazzy. I am, of course, talking about Dr. Ozymandias. I mean it all happened a long time ago, but I haven't been able to talk about it because he was such a big part of my life when things were going to **** all around me. I wouldn't say we were ever really friends, but he listened to me and helped keep me clean when that was important to me. Later on, after I died, he was constantly there when I was trying to figure it all out. When I realized humans remembered when I fed from them, he helped me clean up the mess. He held my hand as I tied up the loose ends, and he let me feed from him. He watched over me like some sort of demented, fucked up, guardian angel.

I guess he became more to me than a thrall. That's what we call people like him, the ones my kind are able to control with our...powers? It's like magic, but not flashy. There's no smoke or lasers or mirrors, it's just intention and effect.

I think I loved him. Not 'in love', but he was a lot more of a father to me than my own dad. You know I still have to take care of him? He's still in jail. Still getting into fights. Still demanding I add cash to his commissary. It's the same **** over and over again. Dr. Ozzy though? When he and I talked, I felt like I could be a better person. And see, I think that's when I began to have doubts about keeping him around. He accepted everything I did without question. I know if he'd had full control of his mind though, he wouldn't have been happy with what I was doing to myself and what I was making him do. I ignored it for as long as I could, but there were times when I would look into his eyes, and I could see things. You ever heard of someone talk about seeing 'shadows' in another person's eyes? It was like that. There were ghosts of expressions there. I think I made him hate me and hate himself.

So I knew I had to let him go, because I can deal with being a shitty person, but not if I have to be reminded of it every day. I told my family, or bloodline I guess, that he was dead, because I revealed his existence to them. I was just trying to tie up loose ends though. Then I took a gun and I put it to his head. I said "I want you to go away. I want you to go as far as you can. Don't tell me where you're headed, and don't tell me when you get there. Don't talk to me again. Don't talk to anyone about what I am, or about vampires. Leave and live, and don't give me a reason to hunt you down."

Of course, that was back when I took the whole masquerade thing a little more seriously. Not that I agreed with it any more than I do now, but you know if the choices are to die or pay heed, at least 6 times out of 10, I'm going to go with the latter.

He left me. I know he closed down his practice, and I didn't bother to see where he went. I still felt this connection to him for months after he was gone though. But that was about the time I got really close with Grey, and lost track of time. Like I don't know if you've ever heard of people getting into heroin and just. Sleeping for years at a time. That's what happened with me. Dr. Ozymandias would say I was medicating again, trying to escape another shitty thing I'd done to another person I cared about. I honestly don't remember much of what happened over those summer and fall months. I remember I would wake up long enough to reach for a syringe, and if I didn't have any, I would stumble out of my apartment and go to the slums. Didn't take me more than a few minutes ever to get what I needed. So I just slept and slept.


About a month back, I began to really wake up again. It's hard to describe, but you know that half awake state, where you've got one foot planted in the dream world and the other in your own bed? It was like I was there, and I decided it was time for me to just get up. So that's what I did. I think maybe I'd been depressed. I know I felt bad about Ozzy, and I felt bad about Grey, like I was cheating on Max. I'm over that now, but for a while it was a real hook to the guts. And then there was the whole idea of family. I worked hard to come across as something I wasn't. I tried to be more productive, more cheerful, more full of life than I ever really could be. I think everything I was, as a Daradasi was a lie. Same story as with Dr. Ozzy. I wanted to be good because they were legitimately good, but after I started using again, I knew I'd end up disappointing them.

It didn't shock me that when I came out of my 'slumber', I didn't have any messages from any of them, no notes, no nothing. I got booted off of the Daradasi CrowNet, and part of me wanted to chat with Mora about it. Find out what I'd done, ask if I was still considered family. Then I realized I didn't want to deal with the possible answers to those questions. And even if I did, it takes two people to make any relationship work. Yeah. I know. With the platitudes. So I decided if it wasn't worth it to her, then it wasn't going to be worth it to me.

And that's okay.

Maybe that bloodline is too good for me. Maybe it's not good enough. Maybe it was the will of fate that we were only supposed to be in each other's lives for a little while. Ozzy would say I can be bitter about that, I can let it define who I am, or I can learn from it and move past it. So I decided I'm going to do my own thing. The only one I was ever close to was Mora, and if she ever wants to reach out for me. Well. That's life. Connections happen. They fall apart. They come back together. Sometimes they get stronger, and sometimes weaker.

Whatever, it's the past now.

And I've begun to explore the idea of family with other people anyway. I don't exactly have what you'd call the healthiest idea of how these things work. I like the Motor Club, so I hope things work out with them. It's still really fresh. I don't know them all that well, but they're...well they're not like me. But they're not exactly good people. And they don't pretend to be. And they don't necessarily want to be. They're my people, is what I'm trying to say. Some of them are fucked up, and that's okay, because that's who they are. I like that about them.

I might try to sire someone. I'd do Chase, but he's too high profile. I'm pretty sure that would turn to **** in a hot minute. Which leads to Chase. He's like. Well he's basically a local legend around these parts. He has the whole rags to riches story. Started out with nothing, and went to a local university on an athletic scholarship. He took HRU to the championships in hockey and like...I think one other thing for a few years, so he was basically an idol from his teens on. After college, he went on to host one of those daytime news shows, like 'Today' or 'Regis and Kelly'. For a while, he was a night anchor for one of the local news stations. Then a couple years back, he bought it. He's what people would call a media mogul. There's even talk of him breaking into the national or international scene with his own talk show.

So yeah. People would probably notice if he suddenly went all pale and fangy. Which sucks! He's actually a really nice guy. Actually he reminds me of. ****. He reminds me of Max. He's basically my ex. I ******* enthralled a guy who is basically my ex. Well I guess we'll just have to wait and see how long it takes for me to ruin him.

TTFN xoxoxo