Ewy's make-shift diary

((The pages are hastily written, and at some points rather harshly put on the paper.))

I should've died many times, if you ask me. I should've died a long time ago. Five bloody long years, that's what it's been. I can't do anything right. Nothing.

I think I was happy when they finally signed me off, when Lady Proudmoore told me to return to Stormwind, to find my family, have some quality time with my relations. Bollocks. They'd just grown tired of my drinking and selfdestruction. Just wanted to get rid of me, that's what. And there wasn't any waiting for me in Stormwind. All gone, that's what they are. Dead and buried like my friends. The whole bloody lot of them. I thought they'd escaped. Turns out they hadn't. I just hope they're not Scourge or Forsaken.

Bloody war.

And Jonathan, Light knows where he is. No one knew, no one could tell me. They sent me to some archive, to see if they could dig up his name. I could've just spent the time drinking instead, as they didn't find any Jonathan Gentlespring in their records. Maybe we've missed him when the refugees came, and failed to get his name; maybe he was one of the injured lot that had lost their mind.

Bollocks. Brother was just as much a mage as I was. He was stronger than me. He'd not lose his mind like some of the peasant gits or lordly blaggards.

He'd not do like I did. Run when meeting the first daemon and let Peter face them alone.

Screwed up war! Bloody Lich King and his bloody henchmen!

Bloody me for being a yellow bitch...

I didn't run again, but it bloody well didn't matter. They all died in front of me. It ain't right. People're not supposed to see such things. Lordaeron - gone. Dalaran - smashed. I don't even know why I bothered going with Proudmoore when she talked about some bloody land over the sea that some nose-in-the-sky stranger had told her about. But it was all insane already, so what did it matter, anyway. What did matter anymore, for that matter. Besides Lucy and Gerhard wanted to go. They couldn't bare staying anymore. They bloody well should've. Lost Lucy at the initial skirmishes with the bloody Orcs. Shot her full of arrows that she looked like some target dummie.

Light's sake, Lucy. You were always so dang cocky, but you were one of a kind. Shite, how I miss you.

And Gerhard.

Why in the Twisting Nether didn't you listen! They said pull back, blast you. You gave a shite about what I said. Did you want for me to see you get torn to pieces by those bloody fel hounds? Was that it? After all we'd been?

I should've just stayed with you. Give a rat's arse about the retreat orders. Then I'd be spared all this bollocks. Wouldn't matter if I'd died there, anyway. The Elves pulled off something that defeated those daemon bastards. And now they're like us, they says, but that ain't true. They may be mortals, but they sure as heck aren't the same as us. Like that cat Elf. Her silence bugs the shite out of me. I don't know why I even listened to Trawe, that Draenei bloke who's trying to sort out the mess in my head. I don't even know why the Nether I even bother.

I guess it's because me makes me forget, and because he says he's my friend. I think I said the same to him. I don't know why. I don't know nothing anymore.

Who am I kidding anyway. I've not known nothing for five bloody years.

Shite.

He talked me into staying. Even offered coming with me when I said I wanted just to piss off from this bloody place, away from that Keetee and her...whatever it bloody is. I don't get her. I don't get her pride or whatever it bloody is. Trawe said he'd make it right, if I'd let him. If not, he'd bloody come along. I can't do that...

He's got his mates and I'd dang well not pull him down to my place - seperate him from what I know he couldn't be without. Guess he's got hope for me for whatever reason. I'm no good as a friend. I just run away. I know I'm gonna sooner or later. Just wish I knew why I can't just leave this excuse of a walking corpse.

I'm already dead. Bloody body just keeps on walking.

Bloody crap.

It's all just bollocks.

Just can't get myself to hurt Trawe, though. He don't deserve it. He don't deserve becoming like me.

A sack of bloody selfpity that makes me wanna throw up.

Screwed up world, that's what it is. Just bloody screwed up.