Please excuse the editing issues...I should update this again, sometime. Ciao!

Went back and nearly collapsed on one of the guards from Whiterun. They would've deserved it, too, for trying to play me while my nerves were in a bundle, yesterday. I paid for my bounty and everything...still thought they were going to be crooked and take me to jail, anyway. What a nice, scary prank. If I was drunk or utterly depressed, it would've worked in disillusioning me more. But now I'm okay.

You don't understand what it does to you to be in prison. I hope you never do. I don't take any of this prison business foolish: in fact, I loathe it.

When I was going to be beheaded, I escaped into a prison dungeon, and I saw Stormcloaks. Well this one in particular was inside a cage in the prison. I bet he had no god or water. Either they were going to torture and starve him to death, or they were going to kill him shortly on the guillotine. Sadly, I didn't want to see either. I brushed my hand along the lock, weary eyes on the one who was guarding it. "Don't you dare think about it," he said. My mind didn't comprehend him: I wasn't going to break this man out, was I?

Then I remembered how my slight curiosity turned into absolute desperation: the feel of a drying man's bones against you, the heat of his faint breath and the severity of the deprivation of his skin - gets to you. And though I couldn't touch him, the Stormcloak touched me.

One of them asked, you know: of the guards, which were pro-Stormcloak all of a sudden in my memories, if I wanted to become a Stormcloak, and join them in their siege on society (so, y'know they didn't really say the last part, but I was interpreting it that way). I told him I'd think about it: and I honestly don't know how I found a happy, unpersecuted Stormcloak in that building, or if I even did. My memories were in shackles, thanks to the dragon and the scarring image of my parents being hacked from their skulls.

What happened (in my escape)? What did I do (in order to evade those wanting to behead me, and the dragon)? Why did I see things that I didn't comprehend (like liberated yet also unliberated Stormcloaks so close near a place as a Stormcloak beheading)? It's not like I can get these answers. I mean, if I meet some random dude like that imperial that walked me to Standing Stones, and wasn't that blondie an imperial? -maybe I could. The alliances, the people involved, I didn't remember them - I didn't want to remember them. It'd only make the situation of siding up more real, more close to end time. More...

And I just can't: and it bothers me how well I can't remember all that, after they died; the dragon came, after, but I can't blame it on a terrifying dragon. I refused to cling onto any memories after my family's death, simply. And perhaps that of alliances of the people involved. Creating a big lump of cancerous amnesia, bet to spread.

If I kept getting into any traumatic experiences. I finally know why that beheading of that cultist was so sickening to me - because it resembled the cutthroat actions of my parent's beheaders. I held my head, now, a headache, and then my stomach, a stomach ache, coming on. This was the most terrible feeling.

But here I am, still on good terms with my city, and myself, after it all.

"Sorry," I told a guard that gave me a surly stare. I'd fallen really close to him, onto the doors, again. Why am I always coming here exhausted? "I mainly deal with petty thievery and drunken brawls, but if you provoke me, Dovahkiin -" he began.

I shot him a glare. "You'll what?"

Lydia laughed, wiping away a gleeful tear as she placed a surreptitious hand on her hilt as my side-view could tell.

His face screwed in surprise. "I'll, uh, lock you up." I sleeked my hand into my pocket and pulled out a baggie, and jangled it. "For this?" His eyes flew wide open, and I could bet his mouth watered, from what I could see of his open grill. "Yeah, I loot more dead bodies than your grandma can repay." I let that slide off my tongue as his eyes slide off my body as I pushed open the doors with a wink. Originally, I thought of saying I stole more than his 'grandma would approve of,' but thought it better to consider her the nice loving person to give people their money back. Hopefully his grandma wasn't, of course, dead and replacing the money I stole from the dead, though. Haha, in reality. It was a joke, though. Those guards just get on my nerves sometimes.

At first I thought they were all pretty nice for guardians - especially for the annoying ones that exist in Windhelm - however...they just get more and more annoying the more you see them.

And Lydia was a lot more suspecting to ruining her hometown than I thought; about to go at the throat of the city Guard for me? Prowess.

The bright shadows cast above us, and I stopped to glance at the sky: cloudy from yesterday, yet spreading the light from the far sun over the buildings and still shadowing this light at the same time: the buildings casting more shadows. I stepped forward but I felt a jerk on my shoulder just then - I looked back at the face of Lydia snoozing on my quite-the-face-rest shoulder pads. They were quite broad on this set of armor.

Her body had been pushed beyond capacity: why was I used to it? Wandering. Her bags on her shoulder leaned on her as they were leaning on me, and my hide-bags were, too, on me. But I didn't notice all the weight because I was used to that, maybe one of the burliest women in all of Skyrim.

So I couldn't push her off, though. I couldn't push worth crap - as much of the trunk of my body could deal with weight, my arms were a little weaker. You'd think battleaxe wielding for so many years meant unsurpassable arm strength. If she didn't want to move - I let my weight shift to my heels and pushed back - well, fell back. The stupid weight on her was wedging her on me like a heavy rock. In turn, I moved nowhere.

Big, crush-worthy bags squashing me to someone else wasn't really a fear, but now it became one. I acted quickly - and my adrenaline rushed as I provoked purple to my fingertips.

The roadkill cultists floated to their feet, then their feet brought them waiting to me. "Get her off me. Please." The man groaned, placing his dead, porous hands on the girl. The woman pulled the bags that were on Lydia's back, and when it didn't aid in getting Lydia off me, she cut the straps with a knife that no one had yet looted maybe due to respect. I cringed as our precious loot tumbled to the floor.

The man that was pushing the sleeping girl didn't have enough reaction time to stop - he pushed her into the dead sister of his cult and and the sister groaned (they don't say much), Lydia and her hitting the cobblestoned earth. I would've laughed, but I didn't exactly know her emotional alliance with the dead.

I cringed as I bent down, trying to get her up. My bags needed to be cut, for goodness' sake, but I didn't feel like slinging them all on me again. "Aww," I said, analyzing the big gash that the cultist revived from her falling sideways and not pillowing directly onto Lydia, her head hitting the stone earth. "Valiant for an enemy's sake, in death," I said, peeling my friend off of her. "Even better than most of the living." I fell trying to, though, onto my knees - and the bags on my back sent me falling splat onto the cultist's chest.

I could barely breathe, and I just whispered, "Dang," to myself. Doom engulfed me. "Sorry, cultist woman," I said into her chest, bracing my hands against the ground to raise myself. Miserably, I failed. I cried.

The guy could understand some of my useless mumbling and came over to help me. He pulled my bags off and I cried again, for real this time, happy that he did and was strong enough to. Lydia coughed beneath us, and I began to think me and all my bags was too much weight on her, and I got worried too much to even blush at the terrible picture of necrophilia I was making at the gates of Whiterun.

"Thank you, cultist," I told him as he pulled off the load of ridiculous, loathful stuff. Lydia wheezed for air and I tried to wiggle off the tower of women that had occurred at this one spot, since I was a little lighter now from the cultist's help. She could finally see, now that she was awake. And we she saw the dead woman, whose body was most likely cold, bugified, and many other horrendous adjectives that could only become a body three days after death, she yelled.

"Lydia," I said, my voice no longer mumbles since I could lift myself up off the dead lady a bit. "It's okay."

Lydia pushed the groaning woman' s head out of the way. "What is this?" She asked me, then flickered her eyes to the man, above us, staring blank like a tree.

"It's what happens when you count sheep. Apparently, they turn into zombies," I got up, brushing the...well, nothing, off my shin guards. "Thanks," I said to the him, behind me, and to him held out my hand. "Too bad you couldn't join the orgy," I shook his paler one. He gave me a satisfied grunt in response. Good: so I didn't owe the creep back anything. Which was a rather good benefit from him and generally all the dead. I could do anything to them all and not be at fault, because what laws protect the dead here, when I can just loot them at will? But I'm not that sadistic to just try and use to them. Well...I was enough to embellish my life's boredom and what not by stealing from them...and, yes, I'd even made a zombie army out of them...Man. I guess I was that sadistic.

Well, that's what they get for...I looked at the cultist near me, and the one on the ground, and I smiled. I really couldn't grudge against them, anymore. They were so (excuse me) cute when they were dead. Obedient, groaning little rabbits (I had to think of something cute...I think their actual denotation would be bodies.). Now, if only Lydia didn't make that funny face, and struggle so hard against her savior.

I lifted the woman off her - my second attempt to try and help Lydia - happy for the bags that weren't on my back. These guys were nice. Yes, I couldn't be mad at the dead, only the living. Did the same go for my dead parents, I wonder? (Or that guard's possibly dead grandma? I'll stop talking about him, lol.) I didn't understand, really. How much they were helpful in their death...it was just obliterating to my mind. So I stopped thinking about it.

However, as I flicked my several powers through my hand this late afternoon, (this sunset, actually, I noticed as I glanced at the sky a little better than I did when I first entered Whiterun thanks to Lydia's occurrence), I noticed that my abilities as the Dragonborn could really surpass anyone's. In fact, it could surpass laws. Anything I wanted to be true, happened. Maybe...I could bring back my parents?

Ugh, I should stop. They died for an honorable purpose: I just needed to save my own butt. "Are you okay?" I asked for the tenth time as we made our way to Dragonsreach. My ghastly pal shook her head. I'd seen enough of dead people for the day. "You'd better wipe that white look off your face," I said, then, glaring into her eyes, and then had begun to snicker. I unknowingly just told her to stop being white, though I just wanted her to stop looking like a ghost...but was that even possible for her complexion and the state she was in? I laughed at Lydia. And made sure to get my soul gems ready for that Court Mage to sell in this wonderful palace, where I could eat whatever I want. For free. Forever. Thane Life: I'm all about it. Not in a house yet, but at least I'm Thane...y'know what, that's a shame. Carry on, Desraim.

Oh, yeah, look at the stuff of nerdy_rocker_girl_ (her not-really-a-fanfic,-but-a-werewolf,-story of a really humanistic person in this weird world of...I guess vamps and werewolves called What's Normal Like? Get into it! She's updating it presently. And yeah, I know that is not a fanfiction so read this piece that is: "Clean Slate" by kieranleggatt. It's one page long, but maybe if you read it...who am I kidding, I don't know if that will make him update, but it's deliriously awesome! (And a Fallout fanfic) Just...support these awesome writers! Toodleoo and thanks for reading my stuff, btw! Please don't be mad that this chapter was somewhat not adding to the plot because you got her background story, and some laughs! ^=^ More to come, anyway ;))))))))