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The Blue Saga
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bixsquirrel
This is the still ongoing tale of the man known as Blue. Everything here is the truth as I remember it. The dates and order of events may be a little off. This stuff really writes itself.

The day Blue moved in was good. He seemed like a friendly guy, had a steady well-paying job, and was generally well-liked by lots of people. We had just solved our problem of filling our now vacant bedroom. Patrick used to live in there, but he went home to Virginia one day without telling anyone and without taking a significant portion of his belongings. Patrick was a character who deserves his own tale, but he's not an important here.

Blue does have his flaws, like all of us - one was that he had a bit of a drinking problem, but to most people it didn't appear like it was a huge deal. He was often holding a drink in his hand when he was at home. He kept it to himself, however, and rarely ever even poured a drink in front of me. One of the reasons why he moved in with us was because he was caught drunk driving some weeks prior and wanted, or perhaps needed, to take public transit to work. Caltrain is just down the hill from us and it dropped him off close enough to his job. These were his issues that didn't affect us for the time being, so we didn't get on his case very often. The topic of drinking less had been brought up once or twice to him that ended with him continuing like normal. Overall he seemed to be a good roommate who always paid his bills on time.

Everything was hunky dory for a few months, until about three weeks ago. Shortly after a weekend of binge drinking at FC his behavior had rather suddenly taken a dramatic shift. He became distant and confused, like he wasn't totally in reality. He then got all of us together to tell us he wanted to move home because of his sick mother and expressed hints of paranoia of us. It kinda sucked, but he wasn't on the lease so he was welcome to leave after 30 days, and we considered this his 30 days notice.

The next couple of days began his spiral downward. He began staring into space frequently, talking to himself, hallucinating, and expressing deep fears of us because he thought we were going to kill him. We would take long walks in his full military getup for hours on end, even in the middle of the night or in the rain. I asked him and found out that he had stopped drinking cold turkey. At this point we really wanted to take him to the hospital because we were concerned he could have more symptoms of tremens and may be risking his life by not going, but he avoided the issue. Everything he was saying made no sense. He asked if there was a blood test for werewolves, mentioned scattered conversations he had with us that never actually happened, and was generally not very comprehensible. Apparently around this time he had actually gone to a hospital, but they released him since they didn't know the whole situation and he wasn't threatening to hurt anyone. At this point he was able to behave normally enough to just appear to be on drugs to most people on the street. Around this time he had also bought a train ticket home but never actually took it.

A day or so later he then stated that he was going to call his cousins to pick up his stuff as soon as possible because he was afraid he were going to kill him and that we were werewolves. I did my best to convince him that we were only concerned for him and wanted to help in any way we could, but he didn't really take in the words. I suggested he tell his cousins how he's feeling before telling them to pick his stuff up, but he responded with off-topic discussion and confusion.

Now I was really worried. I was afraid he was going to get hurt wandering the streets in a state of psychosis or becoming lost or hurt trying to get home. I had no choice but to call 911 and get professional help to come over. While we were generally afraid for our own well being, he never expressed that he wanted to hurt himself or anyone else, so he couldn't be taken against his will. Luckily when the police did arrive they were able to talk him into going to a hospital for treatment. About a day later we heard he was being treated and was starting to recover some from his psychosis, which was a relief. He was even fully cognizant the day after that. He sounded perfectly fine again and expressed how sorry and grateful he was that we got him help. He was even able to come home a couple days later. He mentioned that when he was walking around to places like 7-11 a few days prior he thought everyone was saying "werewolf" to him. Him being aware of his surroundings again and behaving normally was a huge relief. Things were looking up again and we all continued on as usual.

Things didn't stay calm for long. A couple days later he began starting to behave strangely again. The hallucinations, paranoia, and confusion started building up again. He asked Plur for a copy of his Satanic Bible and was muttering religious things frequently. We began to suspect he was on other drugs. A search of his room while he was in the hospital uncovered nothing out of the ordinary except plenty of empty bottles of liquor and a prescription for codeine, so nothing else that would have caused someone to go crazy. We avoided him most of the time and generally tried to stay safe. Last Thursday he went through two bottles of our wine and left messes everywhere, so I hid all the alcohol sharp things I could find. Drinking didn't seem to make his strange behavior completely go away.

By Friday morning he was gone. Since he disappeared several times in the past few weeks so we weren't concerned for a while. When two or three days passed we texted him trying to get information, but he never responded. Yesterday we finally heard news of him! He had crashed his car in Fresno, hurt himself really badly, was in a coma for a couple days, then was recovering in the hospital. We were relieved in a sense - maybe finally he'd have a chance to be forced to work on his alcohol-related problems.

The news only kept getting more outlandish. We received a letter from a relative of his. It was vague and only mentioned that Blue had done some "really dumb shit" and was going to be in jail for some time. It also had a number to call. When we called, the news of what he did was shocking. Sometime Thursday night or Friday he drove to the Fresno area to his mom's house. She has advanced cancer and may only live a couple more weeks, which may have been one of the reasons why Blue drank. He stormed in, said, "If my mother's going to die I'm going to be the one to do it", and began to strangle her. He went for a handgun in the house, pulled back the hammer, and pointed it her head. Amazingly enough the gun jammed. His family then jumped him and got the gun from him.

The story after that isn't clear except that he left in his truck in a hurry. He must have been speeding because it rolled four times before stopping. He had broken his ribs and punctured a lung, among a bunch of other injuries. He's now in a Fresno hospital in the psychiatric ward tied down and faces a plethora of charges including life in prison for first degree attempted murder. We may not hear what becomes of him for some time, given his condition and the charges.
We're gonna need another roommate.

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Ye gods and little fishes.. there really isn't anything I can even possibly add to that, is there?

I can't even imagine the depths of despair he must've been feeling, with such a terrible illness weighing on him every waking moment. It doesn't excuse what he tried to do, but that's a hell of a situation. (And indeed, one a friend from the previous gig finds himself in, but regarding his son. *sigh* They're both bearing up quite astonishingly well, though)


Edited at 2012-02-19 10:10 pm (UTC)

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