Granpere,

3:54 in the morning, wow, and here I sit, curled in my favorite ol' red comfy chair, in the light of the fires' flames, and am unable to sleep. I was doing fine, really I was. Until I woke up and realized how cold the bed felt just then. So tea is on the stove, the fire is stoked, and I'm going to talk to you, Grandpere, the one person I know of who will repeat nothing of what I say. Unless of course it's to Gran, and that I can live with.

Ah, Gran, that special woman. She started to help raise me when I was so young and mama and daddy had no clue how to handle my fiery temper and mischevious manner. She did. With an iron fist and strict rules, rules and love that left me feeling wrapped in her warmth and caring, even if I did end up paddled a lot of the time. I always knew that she did it with love. If not at the time, then as I grew older and more mature. She's a special mix, that one. 100% creole, that's for sure, Hathian bred and raised, and a spine of steel. No one fucks with Gran and comes away laughing about it. I'm sure there'll be a lot more about her here.

The kids are all asleep, it's so quiet here. I just turned on some Cocteau Twins to mull me a bit, hoping it'll make me sleepy enough to find rest , and soon.

Do you remember me at all grampa? You died when I was oh so young, all I really remember is the scent of cigar, which to this very day wraps me in a serene blanket of security. I love cigars, and I tend to get a daddy complex on anyone smoking them. Let's not go into the reasons for that, just that it feels really safe, really warm, and really right when the acrid smoke of cherry or orange is teasing at my nostrils, making me want to curl up, hide my face, and let all my cares wash away into the simplicity of it.

I sit here and I stare down at the page I'm writing on, my fingertips tracing over the words written, and I don't really recall writing them. Is that strange? Or is it therapeutic? I know I'm going to ramble here, going from thought to thought as they flicker through my mind. None of it may make sense, once I'm dead and gone and someone actually finds this and reads it. But for now, it's mine, mine alone. I don't have to share it, I don't have to worry about it being found, I have the best hiding spot in the whole world and this...will be my balm.

Drew..my oldest son, my first born, and the one most affected by my twisted feelings for him. I can't figure them out yet. I am working on them. I swear I am. But he was created inside of me while I was a captive..((erased marks here)) . I won't say a captive where, just a captive. A unwanted child, yet I had him. I don't know why I went through with the pregnancy. Maybe watching dizzy's baby, my nephew, cut out of her womb and eaten by the rejects so very, very long ago has made it so that I am unable to kill a child without at least giving it a chance at breathing the air of life. Even if it's Hathian and not always fresh. Anyway, twisted emotion there. I love him, God I love him, but everytime I look at him I see my cell, I feel the humiliation of being naked and forced to beg for every little thing, down to a drink of water. It was rough, and yet..a gem came out of it and I'm STILL unable to fully feel what I need to with him. But I will get there. I will.

Diego..my youngest son, my baby, born and created out of pure, sweet love. The love that Drop and I shared, as weird as it was, as much as both of us slept around on the other, we were married, we did always wake up next to each other. He's back..I'm not sure how that's going to go yet. He's running a bar in another part of town, one that's mainly Ace controlled, but he loves it. Diego met him, they seemed to do ok, after awhile.Drop feinted a punch at Diego and Diego panicked, freaked out and hid behind me, acting like his father was trying to beat the shit out of him or something, ok so the kid REALLY needs a male influence in his life, and eventually I'll find a solid one. I swear.

Alli..my baby girl. What can I say about Alli. I adopted her when I saw her. I couldn't help it. She stole my heart. Her irish defiance, her toughness, all hiding a very emotional core, one just begging to be allowed to care for and be a part of another large family. I still don't have all the details of her past, but from what I can see as she gets more and more used to us, is that it was large, and it was very Irish.

And then there's Treaty's kids, who also share my heart, my home, and my life, as deeply as if they are my very own.

Blake..the oldest ,he's eleven now, a paranoid child. But who can blame him, he's had it so fucking rough. His own other tossed him out so many times, over and over, jerking his emotions until they're so frayed that I'm at times scared he's going to unravel right there in his own little box that he likes to pace, over and over and over again. I just sit back and watch him. He's so much better now that Treaty has returned. Giving him a sense of security that I don't think he's had often in his life. Paulie (his uncle) tried, but..frankly that man's a serious fuck up. No more needed to be said on that in this paragraph.

Kai and Kei..Treaty's twins, five years old and as cute as little buttons. I know pretty soon they'll need to not be referred to as the twins, but for now, they are one entity, and I think they really like that. A part of each other so deeply that nothing can seperate them, in any way. As they grow older, their individual personalities will start to shine. For now it's Kei as the strong one, the defiant one, and Kai as the very frightened one who panics around strangers and situations she doesn't understand. Deep panic. Though again, Treaty is doing a good job of reinforcing to them both that we are all a family now, and it's staying that way. No matter what.

So those are my kids Grampa, my life, my heart. The reason I don't mind over half the city calling me Satan, or Satan's spawn. Because I do what I do to keep my kids alive. And it's a good life, it really is. You'll never hear me complaining about life in Hathian since I was sixteen years old. I love the city. I love it's grit, it's rawness, it's danger. I love it's sense of community, the smells, even the rancid stench of long buried bodies. It's home, and frankly, it's staying that way.

I got hired on as head of HR over at Seaside, the new school in Fishtown. What fun that's been. So many new kids from all over the globe. Who knows where they'll all end up, but for now, they are definitely Seaside students. We've had close to 300 applications already, for staff, for students, security. Yea, the students have to apply, it's inner city, we can't take ..well ok we can..fuck the app process, it's mainly so we have their home info and contact information, really. It's not like we're some posh boarding school.

I've fucked one person. And that freaked me out so much that I turned into a skittish colt and bolted once we were done, barely had time to pull my panties up before that door slammed shut behind me and I was home by yellow cab. Why'd I do it? I dunno. He's been after me for a long ass time, he's emotionally safe to fuck, he's the town whore for gods sake. He's not about to become attached to me in any way. That's about what I needed. A hard, non-emotional fuck. He even used a condom, for that..I'd do it again. I was pleasantly shocked and surprised. Yes Nicky, for a town whore, you have the right moves and safety precautions. Good boy.

So call it sexual release, that's all it was. And it's over. My house and my bed are purely mine, and will not be shared with anyone, for a long..long time. If I decide to try the one night stand game, I'll set up a small apartment over in Stork. I got a house over there. Not sure why, but I had to start investing some money now that I've turned down Paulie's deal. Yea, I turned it down. Prolly means some more shit down the road for Geins, or me personally, but what comes, comes. Geins is mine and mine alone, I won't share a cut of my profits. The fucking bloods can do a weekly break down of it, Paulie can try to extort money, it won't matter. Not a bit. It's the one solid piece of my life that's been with me ever since I bought it out. Longer even than my kids, since I gave them all up at birth to be fostered out until I was ready to handle them. Including Drops son. I just couldn't face raising him, once Drop left. I failed,but I figured all the kids had a better chance outside of Hathian and away from me. I was wrong. I admit that. Kids need their mom, or their dad. They are not whole without them. It's as if a piece of you is always , always missing, and it hurts, oh fuck me it really hurts.

I'm growing sleepy Grampa, I may end up closing this leather bound journal and tucking it into my hidey hole. The flames are flickering. Their amber glow is really relaxing, and the warmth of them lulls me into a sense of quiet. I hear them crackling, eating at the wood that I feed it. Fire...my enemy, one of my biggest fears ever, yet also so much a sense of serenity around it when it's encased in a fireplace.

Yea, I'm tired, maybe I can sleep, and if I can't, well this house isn't going to clean itself, now is it. I'm smiling again, little bit by little bit as each day takes me further and further away from the break up and my finger grows used to no ring being on there. No weight reminding me I'm taken. Yes, stronger, happier. But still..a long long way to go.

More later.