Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Messenger's Report

Lea "Atalanta" Ritter dropped off of the radar months ago.  I received no relevant information about her, and was surprised when, last October, I stumbled across this post.  Sir Thighpiece mentioned Atalanta by name.  She had told me, but I had only revealed her surname on my blog.  Apparently she'd ended up going on a killing spree (presumably during "His Half") and was both incarcerated and hospitalized.  And then silence.  

But then I received this e-mail:

Mr. Messenger,

Pursuant to the request of my former client, I am to inform you that Lea Christine Ritter was executed by the state of Arizona on the 16th of February, 2012 for crimes of which I am certain that you are aware. Following the apprehension of Ms. Ritter, the case progressed rapidly without necessitating a trial, by cause of her decisions to plead guilty and request capital punishment.

In addition, Ms. Ritter instructed me to convey the following confidential message: "Race is really over now. Photo finish, but the camera broke. You know my address. [password removed]" After considerable examination leading to a lengthy delay in the execution of her requests, it has been determined that this message is unlikely to be criminal in nature. It may, in fact, provide evidence that the mental competence testing was insufficient. Between you and I, Mr. Messenger, I do not feel that to be relevant. Due process of the law would not have resulted in anything less than what Ms. Ritter evidently desired herself, and would have wasted the time and money of the state.

Having fulfilled my obligation, I am finished with this case. Do not respond.

Howard Wallace
 There it is.  She's dead.  A young woman who deserved almost none of what she had to deal with.  Goodbye, Atalanta.  I hope you're at peace now.

-Don't Shoot The Messenger-

Friday, October 21, 2011


Had a dream. First in a long time. Like the old one He sent ,me. But different. Man in it. Not Him. Man took me into the sky. Letm e see the roads. One with people I cared about, one withHim. And trees. All that split the ttwo roads. Parallel roads. Just trees. Couldn't see through. All I got was to not see them Not see them die.

But they were dying. He ws killing them, using me to do it. To kill them. they died. My step-broher, my ex-boyfriend. my classics teacher, my friend. Didn't see them. He protected me. Protected.The treess. He put the trees between me and them and I picked that road, All wrong. Nobody is safved, just me.
Treees are in my eyes. His. Can't trustc  them. Can't know what's rea;l. Are you real? can't konw. Nothing to trust. Dont want this. Don't

No. No whining. Doesn't mater. Stop. Won't let me die. But I cans till stop Him.

Won't see you again. Don't know if you'll see this. Never helped anyone. Sorry. Maybe advice helps. Don't be like me. Don't stop running. Race isn't over until you end it. Don't let Him trick you. Quitters never win. Things only get worse. So much worse.

Got to go. Got to end this. Just schedule this to go up later.

Monday, October 17, 2011


Fire is one of His things. One He'd been neglecting in my experiences with Him. Fixed that. Came back to an apartment building on fire. This was Thursday. Standing in a small crowd just gaping at it. Somebody finally thought to call 911. Firetrucks showed up and I left. Didn't want to be in the way. Didn't want to be caught.

Arson. Sure of it. Had the matches in my pocket. Smoke stayed with me. Hope nobody got hurt. But it wouldn't be His work if it was harmless. Just wish He'd stop using my body for that. Shouldn't have whined about the advertising.

City had the same name as where lying man said my father died in a fire. Except he said Arkansas. Might be making a joke here. Or what passes for a joke in His horrible twisted mind. Arkansas and Arizona both start with Ar. Funny. No clue who got to take the place of my father.

No money since I last posted. Had to get new clothes after the fire too. Extra money was gone by Saturday. So how am I posting this? Apple stores. Three of them over the past two days. Including today. Employees busy mourning Steve Jobs and haven't noticed.

Final thing: what was that last comment? Looked like it was from riddle person. Whoever you are, just type normally and stop being cryptic. Anybody wants to interpret, go ahead.

Now, to see if I can find food.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011


Check for money every morning when I come back. This morning, wasn't just money. Newspaper clipping attached. More money than usual too. Special delivery from whoever gives me the money.

Obituary. Thought it was for the girl He killed in Denver. But it's wrong. Right name, wrong person. This is the one I knew. My friend. Came from the local paper back home. Home when I had one, I mean. No details on the how of her alleged death. Does say she died in Denver early last week.

How could they mess it up so bad? Has the correct family been informed? Or did they tell my friend's family she died? Would be awful. Thinking someone died who didn't. Embarrassing for the not really deceased too. And the paper.

Just a terrible, confused mess.

Confused me, too. But I saw the body. I know who it wasn't. Should I try to do something about this? No, what could I do? Write a letter to the editor? Tell them I was there when she died, holding the rope? That would go over well. Don't need my input to solve this.

Wonder why the obit was given to me. Must be a person who pays me. Can't see Him tearing out a bit of newspaper and tucking it in my pocket.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

How Wrong Is This?

Another day, another crime scene. Already dead this time. Girl. About my age. Not too messy a death. Strangled. Rope in my hands, of course. He must do this on purpose. Trying to make me feel guilty. But it's all Him. Not even murder by omission here. These people would die anyway if He wants them dead. And the people I care about won't.

Was in her apartment, too. That's noteworthy. Tough decision to make. Plenty of useful stuff. Clothes nearly my size. Her laptop. She wouldn't need them. Didn't take those. Only took some food. Couldn't help myself.

Here's where I feel guilty. This was my choice. Bad choice. Shouldn't have taken anything. I know. Stealing from the dead is disgusting. Even if it would've just gone bad. Don't know why I'm justifying it to you. There are no good people. On this side, bad deeds are expected.

Also expected: wacky coincidences. Same name as somebody I knew. Not the same person. Just same name. If there's a lesson in this, it's the world is really small. Or this country is. Nearly identical cities and similar people.

Back to the point. Breakfast with a corpse. Only not really. Half wall between us and I faced away from her. Still sounds messed up. Was messed up. Wish I weren't me so I could scold me. Only when I'm not me, He takes over and I just don't exist.

Again, not what I want to write about. Left after eating. No point calling the cops. They do their job well and they'd find me. Then He'd get rid of them. No gain. Hopefully they find her before things get too gross. But after I'm far from here.

There was something else I meant to say. Forgot it. Hate when that happens. If it comes back, I'll edit it in next time I have a computer.

Edit: Was just going to complain about timezones. Too early over here in mountain time.