Log #1419

Who to trust.

Stella, 48, Sacramento, CA.
Smart. Evil.
Trust rating: -11

Fran, 21, Bend, OR.
Toughening up.
Trust rating: +9

Gabrielle, 28, San Diego, CA.
I don’t know.
Trust rating: 0

Javier, 23, Tijuana, Mexico.
Going to hell. Soon.
Trust rating: -9

Wendel, 26, El Centro, CA.
Probably joining Javier.
Trust rating: -1

Joel, 32, Sacramento, CA.
The good Stella.
Trust rating: 2

Kelvin, 17, San Diego, CA.
Jerry-ish, but more talkative.
Trust rating: 2

Bridget, 36, Eugene, OR.
Strong, gritty.
Trust rating: 2Twenty-three sixteen.

Stella rounded everyone up the morning after we brought Bridget, Joel and Kelvin into the Station. She said that there weren’t enough supplies to support everyone and that the three newbies had to go. Joel threw it back at her–he said that the supplies would run out no matter how many people there were, and that eventually more supplies would have to be gathered.

When Stella looked around there was Fran, Gabrielle, Wendel, Ruby and I. All of us broken and weak. And then there was Bridget, a woman best described as hardcore; Kelvin, a fit, kind, helpful young man; and Joel, like me but smart and mentally strong. She tried to argue, but she couldn’t even finish a sentence. She kept sighing at herself frustratedly, until eventually she stormed off.

Discussion over.

A big part of me felt I should stay and help with whatever administration was needed to integrate Bridget, Joel and Kelvin into the group – with tasks and sleeping arrangements and whatnot – but I found myself walking away. Even when Ruby called after me I just walked away.

Can’t have had ten minutes alone, in mine and Jerry’s room, before there was a tap on the door. It was Fran, and she had Gabrielle in tow.

I still haven’t… I still don’t know if I really understand. I’ve always been a nice guy. I’ve always been a good guy. I never drank, I never did drugs, I barely even swore. If ever I hurt someone, before all this started, I would damn myself for it. Punishing myself for every mistake.

When Ivan died in Kosovo I blamed myself. I was off for months with depression. If I hadn’t had Camille there supporting me, I wouldn’t have made it through. She supported me and helped me to become a better man. She helped me to believe in myself, and in the good inside me.

Gabrielle’s pregnant and she says that the baby is mine.

I’ve been racking my mind for the best part of a month trying to understand. But I don’t get it. She says that it happened when we were drugged–I was forced on her by Crazy Clive. But I would never have done anything like that. I would’ve fought. I may be weak-minded, but I’m not a monster. I’m not…

I can’t do this. I wanted to get it down and try and sort out my head–I wanted to rebuild my faith in myself. But I keep thinking about Camille. I keep thinking about Laurie.

I have no faith in myself any more. I don’t trust myself. I’m not the person I used to be. I’m sorry.

– Titouan Denaux