(Storyish/Journal) Headaches
The dull throbbing slowly stole my attention away from the pages in my hands and forced me to rub at my temples in an attempt to sooth some of the pressure away. It didn’t help much. With a sigh, I refocused upon the papers I had dropped on the desk. Reports mostly. Listings of inventory stocks, monthly expenses, and future endeavors. I’ve only been looking them over for less than five minutes, they were supposed to be a kind distraction from my other problems. That was it then, there couldn’t be any work done until I figured this out, and the best way for me to do that was…
I looked over my shoulder at the bookshelf that lined the wall behind me. Three books on the middle shelf drew my eye immediately. All three were thin and were bound with a dull red leather covers. They were another something I wanted to avoid. I grinded my teeth together with annoyance and made myself lean back in my chair to pull the three books out from their place and dropped them on my desk, flatting the reports under them with a satisfying plopping sound. My fingers drummed across the wooden desktop as my eyes bore holes into the covers of the journals. They were my life’s story. Shouldn’t they be something I was proud of? I secretly new the answer to that question.
With a huff of expelled air, I leaned forward and opened one of the journals to a random page. Letters and drawings that I had stuffed in between the pages slid out and I quickly jammed them back into place as my eyes scanned the small, spidery handwriting that was my own. The words that I read brought a shiver down my spine. My life was so different then.
I closed the first journal and opened the second, flipping quickly through its content. It was more of the same. I looked to the third journal for a moment. My hand tentatively reached out to open it, but it froze. I couldn’t. Not that one. My hand jerked back and took up the other two journals and placed them on top the third before pushing them all to a far left corner of my desk. Those three books were my life’s story. Starting from my early adulthood up until just a few months ago.
“Alright then… New book.”
I reached down and pulled open the last drawer of my office desk, reached within, all the way to the back, and pulled forth a new book. Like the others, it was thin and bound in red leather. I opened it to the first page and carefully pressed against the book’s spine until it stayed open. My other hand drew out an ink well and pen from the top drawer.
I wet my pen and began to write.
Its been a long time since I’ve wrote anything of my happenings. In truth, I did not want to take it up again, but the headaches started again and I knew I could not avoid this for much longer. There are too many thoughts and not enough wits within me to properly organize them into some type of working order.
Against my better judgment, I have returned to Silvermoon. To the Row. In some ways it is the same, but in other ways it is very different. For one, it isn’t guarded by an insane Death Knight anymore, thank the gods. However, he has been replaced with Blood Knights, open lovers, and the self delusional. I might could be categorized in with that last group.
I have taken up working with Ten and Klo again. Nothing big yet, and in actuality, I’m okay with that. It’s not like I’m hurting for gold. But what I am not okay with is my uncertainties. It is hard, coming back here. My mind does not recall every person’s face and name as it used to… does that mean I’m getting old?
I failed to recall a past employee of mine last night. That bothers me. I should remember her. But after talking with her for a few minutes, I quickly got the impression that she dislikes me. I could see it in between the words she spoke. She is friends with Ten, not me. I think she made that clear enough. What have I done to wrong this woman? Should I even attempt to make it right with her in some way? Yes, yes I should. It is never wise to leave another in such a position.
While I’m on the subject of people who dislike me, the main source of my headache is Klo.
I made the mistake of throwing her drugs over a cliff at the VP club this past Friday. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so furious. But it did confirm my suspicions. So no, I do not regret disposing of the drugs after all. I do not want to see another person in my life destroyed like my mother. I came close to following my mother’s fate myself, and damn it, I will not let Klo do the same.
By me taking the initiative and throwing her drugs away, I subsequently told her that I was stepping up to fill some part of her that A.T. had left. It is now my place to help her with this addiction now that A.T. is no longer there to do it for her. Klo wants the help, she is practically begging for someone to help her. The issue is, I don’t know how.
A.T., Klo’s former mentor and best friend has long since passed away. Her death was news to me when I returned, and I am still unsure as to how it had happened. From what I know of her in the past, she was the target of an unidentified group. They had found and sacked a few of her hidden labs. Are they the ones who are responsible for her fate? Regardless, that is a problem for another time.
A.T. had a method of some kind that allowed her to cleanse Klo of her drug addiction. She had kidnapped Klo, strapped her to a table and… Did something to her deep within one of her hidden labs. Whatever the process was that she did, she had taken the drugs out of Klo’s system, which greatly diminished her withdraw symptoms. That is what I need to learn about. How did A.T. do it? What was the method she used? I snuck into the office A.T. had in Silvermoon to search the numerous paperwork in the hopes that I’d find clues to the mystery, but most of it didn’t make the slightest of sense. I did not get to search for long for Klo came in and I quickly excused myself.
Klo hinted that A.T. had numerous labs all across the known globe. But I only know of one. Luckily enough, it is the place I had found Klo after A.T. had performed the cleansing on her. That is where I am to go next to see if I can find any traces of the tools used for the process she performed. The only thing is, its surrounded by the undead. I’m unsure if the charm Klo had given me will still work on them, but if not… I am a rogue after all. Let’s just hope I don’t get my brain eaten by a zombie in the attempt.
