Liberty and Litigation

Wow. I can't tell you how good it feels to be out of the house. Its like this pall of fear and paranoia
has been lifted off of my shoulders. The sun shines brighter, the breeze caresses my hair, its wonderful. I've rented an apartment downtown while I figure out how I'm going to go about demolition. Yes, I'm still going through with it. I almost changed my mind, (I think the events were starting to get to me), but in the end I stuck with it. However, I'm probably not going to level the house, just get rid of a few... problem areas.

Still, its going to be a couple of months at the earliest because something else has come up. The people investigating Svend have been trying to contact me for almost five weeks now. They need me as a character witness in his corruption trial, and I was all too happy to oblige them. Remember when I said I was willing to accept the things that have happened to him and leave it at that? I changed my mind. I've caught him following me around the city. He's off in the distance, but its obviously him. I don't know of anybody else that's more than seven feet tall and wears a suit in the dead of summer. And now its all beginning to click into place. He's out to get me. I cost him his career, exposed him for the fraud he is, and now he's facing decades behind bars. He's angry and desperate. But he's not the type to beat you up in a dark alley, no no no, he's got much more sinister ways to get back at those who've messed up his plans. Everything that's been happening has been because he's trying to scare me out of the house. Sure, it needs a bit of sprucing up here and there, but its still extremely valueable. He must be trying to run me out of town, then acquire the house with legal slight of hand. I don't know what his plans are to evade jailtime, but even now that he's lost his practice, he'd be set for life in there! The thought of that spindly maniac laughing with glee at my torment makes my blood boil. Get ready Victor, your end is nigh. asisyourdenial

The Lost Summer

Well, I just got back from the doctor's office. There's nothing physically wrong with me, I've just been asleep for two months. TWO MONTHS. I've been in some sort of coma since the night of May 26th. And can you guess where I woke up? That's right! The third floor, AGAIN. I'm still spitting up chunks of dust even now. There weren't any sets of footprints leading to or from me, but given that the footprints from the previous visit are gone, I'm left to assume that I was moved there on the first-

Why am I even still talking about this? I should have been out the house when that stupid door first
appeared (which by the way, is back right where I put that red X). None of this is explainable anymore, and I don't like that ONE BIT. I'm packing my bags and leaving tommorow morning, and I'm not coming back without a pair of bulldozers and a wrecking ball; then I'm burning the rubble.
I'm sorry Grandfather, but whatever's going on isn't right, isn't NORMAL. I know this house must have a lot of memories for you, (well, must have HAD a lot of memories) and I don't want anyone to think that I'm being rash about this. I've spent a good few days mulling over my options, and this is the only way out that I can see. I only hope that you can forgive me for what must be done...
iaskthesameofyou

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I'll explain my absense next post, gotta go.