//Update - Sir Thighpiece\

  I apologize for my lack of posts. We've been a bit busy lately. Yes - we. I've made a...friend? I'm not really sure what to call him. And her. But never mind that...I'll explain it all later.


  I want to start where I left off - right after the fight with Kobold. Pain gripped every inch of my body. I even thought a few bones had been broken from being flung against trees by that giant man-beast. He sort of reminds me of a dog...but not the cute kind. I mean more like those big bulky ones that won't stop barking and lunging at you. The ones that you back away from, even if they're behind a fence.
  Anyway...After that...I just started to cry. I could hear Threnody saying something behind me, but her voice was soon replaced by another. Less low, groggy-sounding. This one was new - sharp like a prick of a thorn, sort of scraggy like an old woman's.


"Well, well. I guess it's my turn now, huh?"


  At first it sounded like it was to my right...but as I listened carefully, I noticed that the sound was shifting in all different directions. Almost like Jubilee's did when she was bouncing around the garden, but not quite the same. My eye (eyes?) was blurry with tears, so as I looked about in search of this new voice, all I could really see was green blended with brown - blue blended with white, and bits of red here and there.


"My name is Sybil. Perhaps one of the others mentioned me?"


  Yes. They certainly did. And now I could tell she wasn't like Jubilee, because as I wiped my eye, and finally caught sight of the raggedy ginger-headed woman, swinging her emaciated legs up in one of the trees, I felt an overwhelming sense of dread. I knew she wasn't real, and so I started to doubt reality.


"They mentioned you, yes. So what are you, then?"
"What do you think, Carol?"
"You are me, I'm not stupid."


  Sybil laughed like a maniac, then hopped down to circle me, as if examining me.


"I don't have much to work with here, do I? It's a shame...I was hoping you'd know less. The more to corrupt, hmm?"


"Insanity, I'm guessing. Just looking at you screams it at me. No wonder I'm feeling a bit crazed."


"Ohh! Feeling the crazies, Thatcher?! That's a good sign!"


"I know how to work with you. I've felt you before, when I was stupid. I'm not now, you know. I can work with your shit, and you can't do anything about it. You can't touch me, hurt me. Only if I let you."


  After that, Sybil disappeared. I gotta say, I'm still quite proud of myself for that. I know I never could have done that before all this. I was actually expecting some Voice of Pride to show up, but thankfully, none did.
  The feeling of accomplishment wore off, and again returned the frustration. I mean, I know I should've taken all the stress like a big girl and just pushed on...But no. I stayed and shot at some trees until I ran out of ammo and instead starting chucking rocks at the old shack.


  Apparently I passed out after that. I can't really remember much after the rage fit, just waking up in soiled clothing and knotty hair. Figuring I should clean myself and at least eat something, I made myself get up and walk all the way back to the motel. People gave me some pretty weird looks on the street. I guess they just weren't accustomed to seeing little girls stumbling around like they're drunk, and looking like they've just been mugged.
  When I got there, I expected the manager of the place to put up a better fight when I asked for a room. I don't know if it was just me, but would you really not question a twelve-year-old girl trying to rent her own room? Without an adult? Shouldn't there be a rule for that? But I guess it was good for me, though.
  Took a shower, didn't bother washing my ripped, stained clothes, so I just threw them out, then flopped over on the bed and passed out.


"Good Morning!"


  I woke up. And...oh my god. There. In my room. A giant Saint Bernard, TALKING. And on its back...is that FATHER?! In a casual get-up?! Oh, no, it's just some anorexic tongueless guy. This is definitely a dream.
  Sorry, Trina, It's not.


  I passed out again.




  His name is Sir Thighpiece. I found that out when I woke up again. A tongueless emaciated man riding a giant talking dog is a lot to take in, right? Wouldn't you have fainted, too?
  I decided to listen to what they had to say. The dog told me she merely "translated" for Thighpiece, since he couldn't speak. They were here to help.


"Okay. That's great, but can you explain to me why the hell you can speak? You're an animal, no offense..."


  Apparently, neither of them know. Their memories were wiped. And what does that mean? No answers. But at least they were here to help!
  The dog (I've decided on Betty) told me they were sure they knew where Candle had taken Timmy. Good news, I suppose. So we drove there, confirmed it, and decided on waiting until tomorrow to come get him.




  So...Sorry for the blunt post. We've been working on a plan - Sir Thighpiece, Betty, and I. But I promise, when we get Timothy, there will be a story to tell. And an ice creams party to be had.