| # 004 |
[Tue 15 Feb / 8:23pm] |
You know, I just can't bite my tongue on this anymore. "Oh, how sad, we all have to be indoors at a decent hour. This curfew is ruining my life." Boo hoo. Grow up, seriously -- if that's all you have to complain about, you should count yourselves lucky. Try getting fired from your job over something petty and not being able to fight for it. Try being abandoned by your family and friends. Try being labeled as a murderer and a monster when you've never done anything. Try being bitten by a werewolf, and maybe then all the whinging will have some merit.
It's rubbish, really, the way werewolves are treated, but I bet no one thinks twice about that. No one cares about anybody else's rights when it doesn't directly affect them, or a large majority. It only becomes a problem when you're the ones being hurt. But who cares about werewolves, yeah? They're all beasts, all murderers. It doesn't matter if they haven't even been through one full moon yet. And we're put through humiliating shite like registration and exams and useless pamphlets that are full of twisted words, all of which can be boiled down to, "no one wants to deal with you, but here's a list of the few people who are desperate enough."
Some people grit their teeth and pretend to be nice. Maybe not because they have to -- a paycheck will still come to those who treat werewolves as if they're worth less than dirt -- but because they're afraid. The real confusing ones, though, are the ones who don't get paid for it. The ones who visit you when no one else has except to tell you they never want to see you again. The ones that try to fill your head with lies that everything will work out, even if it won't be exactly be the same, because at least we're still alive.
Why would a stranger, someone I had never met, be kind to a werewolf?
This one had me thinking for a while. I couldn't figure it out -- there had to be something for this person to gain from trying to help me, and teaching me that everything can be okay so long as you lie and keep secrets. It didn't make sense for people who I'd known my whole life to abandon me but a stranger, who also happened to be a werewolf, to bother helping me. Maybe he just wanted kinship -- someone like him to share experiences with. But what were the odds that somebody volunteering at St Mungo's would just happen to be there at the same time I was? Who just happened to push me to talk about what was wrong? He swooped in as if he'd known I was there. And then I realized it had to have been out of guilt. I think this is the werewolf who bit me.
Well, you know what, Remus Lupin? I didn't get the choice to lie and hide that I'm a werewolf like you did. You once told me that it's the real friends who will stick around even after they find out what you are -- so I guess that's you're about to find out. Maybe you really did just want kinship with someone else who is like you, or maybe you were the one who turned me into a werewolf -- whatever the case, I don't know how you expect me to take any comfort in your words when you don't follow them yourself.
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| # 003 |
[Wed 26 Jan / 7:46pm] |
[ WARDED TO REMUS. ]You didn't say anything about an exam.
[ / WARDED TO REMUS. ]
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| # 002 |
[Tue 21 Dec / 11:26am] |
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Taking my mum out to get attacked is just what I wanted to get her for Christmas.
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| # 001 |
[Thu 9 Dec / 3:24am] |
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There's nothing like spending your evening out hunting down angry disruptive poltergeists. I don't mean that sarcastically, either. There's really nothing like it. I just finished a call from a man who inherited an old house, and it must have been bloody ancient because that poltergeist was impossible to get rid of. Unfortunately, the house is completely unlivable now -- it's a violent one, apparently killed the former residents and that's how the client inherited it -- but he's so integrated into the structure that there's no way around him. He's a brilliantly creative poltergeist, though. I've seen bleeding walls in films, of course, but never saw that happen on the job yet, and writing my name on the mirrors was really excellent. He must've been spying on us before I went in the house and overheard my name. It's a shame I couldn't get him out, but it was a great experience. I reckon I won't get a wink of sleep for at least a few hours until my adrenaline rush has calmed down. Being chased down a long dark hall by an angry poltergeist will really get your heart rate up there. With a job like this, I never have to go to the gym.
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