I was never going to make a blog. When He started hunting me, my life was too full with training and school. I knew that others had blogs, but didn't take the time to read them. That could be why He won.
See, I'm not one of you. I'm no Runner, no Fighter. He got me. He took half of my life and all of the meaning in it.
This isn't going well. Writing has never been my strength. Running was my strength. Not your kind of Running. Just running. He doesn't let me do that anymore. Not while I'm in control. But that's only half of the time.
He gives me 12 hours a day and takes 12 to use me for whatever it is He needs. During my time, I'm mostly free. He won't let me run, as I said, and He won't let me die. I have to use my time to eat and sleep, but He gives me an allowance. Or maybe it isn't Him, but another like me. Once my time is up, my mind just shuts off.
I don't know what He uses me for. I know I come back in strange places most of the time, sometimes a few towns over, sometimes even a few states. Sometimes I come back hurt or filthy. I just didn't care. Until today.
Today, I came back to myself in some empty warehouse. I looked down and was faced with a dead body. His face was untouched, so I could see by the lack of facial hair he was young. 14 or so, I think. Just a kid, and there he was with his abdomen all chopped up, lying in a pool of blood and other fluids. And I was there holding a machete, the blade smeared with the same.
How do you react to that? I dropped the weapon and got out. He won't let me run because He knows that running was my life, but I walked as fast as I could. I vomited too, right before I got out the warehouse door. Once I was out, I saw that I was in a city, one I didn't recognize. I walked until I saw an empty park bench, and slept there.
I'd love to be able to say that I was tossing and turning, haunted by that gruesome scene. But I slept sound for five hours despite the uncomfortable "bed". The haunting started when I woke up. I went out and picked up some fast food. I never touched this stuff until He got me. Since then I don't have the money for anything better.
Now I'm using a computer in the Kansas City Public Library. It's a nice building, and the librarians haven't bothered me. I have another hour until He takes me, but I'm getting out of here before then. I have another dollar and some cents, so I can grab another burger.
So here it is, the reason I'm starting this blog: I want to know who He made me kill. The boy had brown hair, in a buzz cut. I can't remember what color his eyes were, but he had glasses. He looked around my height, 5'5". If anybody knows him or thinks they might, let me know. I doubt I'll still be around here tomorrow, but I'll be able to check this blog.