Okay, so I missed another day... I'm sorry. I'm bogged down with some kind of coldy buggy thing... I'm not blaming that for my lack of dedication, as I usually have a tendancy to just stubbornly ignore illness and plough on headstrong until I pass out. This time, however, I have decided to take a wiser stance and take it easy, doing only what I need to do, which has meant lots of duvet time, and more to come. On a side note, this cold thing has been enough of a distraction to leave me without ideas of what to write, so I'm going to try and continue my "Universal Being" (working title) but I'm making no promises about quality, so I'll apologise in advance if it's a bit pants.
I remember my first day as this new, thing... This, entity. Whatever I was, am. Sorry, it still confuses me... I think remember is the wrong word. I've managed to piece together what happened through various sources. I left the accident, my clothes in tatters and my mind even more scattered than it usually is. I don't remember leaving the lab, but I've seen footage from security cameras; a friend of mine's good with computers, not entirely in a legal sense of the word either, so he pulled up some cctv footage from the city network. At one point, I was just meandering in the middle of one of the busiest intersections in the city. I apparently caused quite the pile-up as cars swerved to avoid me. One slammed on their brakes and I just kept on walking, stepping up onto the bonnet and onto the roof. The driver was yelling something, but there was no audio on the video. I sometimes watch it back still to this day. I'm not sure why. But the driver grabbed at my ankle to dry and yank me off his car roof. I just keep walking as if nothing's there, dragging him backwards and dislocating his shoulder on his own door frame. Poor guy... I keep meaning to find him to apologise some day, but I don't know what I'd say if I did..."Hi, remember me? I'm the guy who walked all over your car and may have damaged your shoulder irreparably..." I'm not sure that'd cut it.
This was where the footage got interesting. Apparently there was a bank robbery that day. Apparently this caught my attention, even in my brain-addled state I still apparently had an idea of right and wrong. It was obvious I had no idea what was happening though. I mean, who in their right mind would stride past a police blockade, shunning and shoving officers aside just to walk absent mindedly into the bank, apparently not get hit by a single bullet despite several shots being fired, knock out the thieves and then make a withdrawal from the ATM myself before leaving, wedging my way through a horde of press and police alike.
From that day, I slept for a week straight. I was on my last warning at work - I'm a photographer for the local newspaper by the way; I know, very Peter Parker - I'd missed a whole week of work without calling in my absence, so naturally my boss was pissed with me, but in time I'd come to figure out that that was just the beginning of my story. Of many stories if I think back, but I wouldn't realise that just then, and so I'm not gonna dish all just now. If you're intrigued enough then stick around. I'll tell you more, but that's another day's story.
I'm still toying with the format. I'm aiming for a sort of 'Interview with a Vampire' kind of narration, as though he's telling this story to someone else, an interviewer perhaps, but done over installments, meetings maybe, so perhaps he's telling it to a psychiatrist, I'm not sure yet, but like I said, my brain's fried today so I'm calling it quits for now.
Night all,
Craiggy.
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