malaise

When you were six you started seeing things. At the very least, you needed glasses, at the very most you were seeing things that weren't there. Seems like a pretty cliché start to a (link-reveal: "ghost story")[(show: ?ghosts)]. |ghosts)[(live: 1.5s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[were they really ghosts, though?(stop:)]]] You wouldn't know because you were [[a kid->trust vs mistrust]].

How were you supposed to know what was real and what wasn't anyways? Six year olds don't really naturally know what to do when they're continuously bombarded with [[hallucinations|hallucinations]]. By fifth grade you'd been pretty much typcasted as a kid who was "a joy to have in class", even though most of the time you weren't feeling much of the joy and [[you //definitely// did not <strong>feel</strong> like a joy.|joy]] By the end of middle school, the hallucinations became harder and harder to [[ignore|ignore]].

you want to know what the hallucinations were? are we really going to get into this right now? (text-style: "shadow")[//(link-reveal: "yes")[(show: ?yes)].//] |yes)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[it's something you have to figure out for yourself. all I can tell you is that--(stop:)]] (live: 2s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[they wouldn't leave you alone.(stop:)]] (live: 3s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[//they wouldn't leave you (link-reveal: "alone!")[(show: ?alone)]//(stop:)]] ] |alone)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[it's hard to tell if you were ever in physical pain, but it hurt either [[way->trust vs mistrust]](stop:)]] ]

you learn to take your happiness slow, in doses of twenty, sixty, a hundred and twenty milligrams. you think that maybe you're a madman. A grey-haze beige-brained child who grew up in reverse. you think maybe it’s just going to get worse, and soon you’ll be crunching through tv static to get words out of your [[mouth->trust vs mistrust]].

Sometimes they talk to you. theoretically, if you're the one creating them, they shouldn't be able to tell you something you don't know. That's what your doc tells you-- when you see it, try asking it a (link-reveal: "question")[(show: ?question)] you don't know the answer to. |question)[(live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[//who are you guys? why won't you leave me alone? can you help me with my homework?//(stop:)]]] or try and take a picture of it and see if it shows up in the photo. But, you suppose, ghosts don't have to do homework if they don't want and they don't have to show up in pictures either. When they do talk to you, [[they tell you things->things]] you didn't know before. You don't know if they're //true// things, but [[they don't seem like things you can make up|lies]].

i'll tell you something. (live:1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[it's just you and me now, right?(stop:)]] (live:2s)[(t8n:"dissolve") [no ghosts between us. (stop:)]] (live:3s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[not anymore.(stop:)]] (live:4s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[listen closely.(stop:)]] (live:5s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[i know you've been reading so far, wondering what kind of person you are. who you are, to compell me to tell you all of this. or maybe you don't care. I don't know. you've done [[horrible things->horrible things]]. I don't think you're a horrible person, I just think you should know that you've got the potential to hurt a lot of other people, very badly. take it as a warning, not a criticism. and don't worry. [[you're going to be fine->ignore]](stop:)]]

But you don't think they're lying to you. No one is right 100% of the time, and you guess that fact doesn't change when you become a barely corporeal figure living in a teenager's head. Okay, listen. It seems possible that they're ghosts. but you don't know for //sure// that they're ghosts. [[The only ghosts that exist are the ones you create yourself->ghosts]]. I'm telling you that now. This is a ghost story, but the spirits don't start singing in until later. Right now it's just [[you and me->rising action]].

the theater of the mind will kill you. it's like you want to be something that you're not, and you wanted it so badly that you couldn't see how you hurt others in the [[process->ignore]].

Enough of the introductions. You know who you are as of this moment, and I know who I am. We come to a dilemma. You cannot remember anything, and I remember it all. You are a real living, breathing person, and I am words on a page trying to guess what you will think. You can interact with me, but I can't interact with you, only what I think you will do. In a way, //I// am the ghost. There are three things we need to address, yes? 1. You don't know if you can trust me. I am, after all, in control over how you see yourself, as long as you continue to [[believe me->trust]]. 2. You can no longer see what you once saw. No hallucinations. No ghosts. You can't even really see me. So both you and I are left to wonder [[what you have become->the event]]. 3. What will we do about the [[world->current problems]]?

it is easier to ignore ghosts in the daylight, but don't tell me you sometimes think about things in the dark that haunt you in a way paramount to supernatural. but //you//, you have the ability to [[create->lies]] more than you bargained for.

i know a lot about you. I know about the scar on the wrist of your non-dominant hand. I know about the car crash you were in, in third grade. I know about how you tried to cut your hair yourself one year and how you tie your shoelaces the bunny-ear way and that you absolutely hate cream soda. but //you// don't know those things. do you even remember who I am? can you remember my name? you have something I want. something that I really, really want. i've died trying to get it. I will do anything to get it. if I always tell the truth, do you promise you'll give it to (link-reveal: "me")[(show: ?me)]? |me)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[(text-style: "shadow")[[[//what do you want from me?//->want]](stop:)]]] (live: 2s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[(text-style: "shadow")[[[//why do you want it so badly?//->why]](stop:)]]] ]

maybe you're wondering how we got into this situation. maybe you're just here because you have to be, and you don't care. well, something happened to you. do you remember when I told you that you've done really bad things? you have the ability to create things that no one has ever made before. after the choices you made, you wanted a fresh start. so you made yourself. a new version of yourself. the version reading this right now. and maybe you've made an awful mess of your life. maybe you've lived up until now with no //idea// of what you can do. you made me into your guide. you took me and made me into someone who would return to your timeline over and over and over again no matter how many times you reset yourself, because there is something you want to [[remember->rising action]], regardless of what life you're living.

As of right now the world is not doing too great. And you can [[save it->game plan]].

you've done something to me. so yeah. [[fix it->rising action]].

have you ever been hurt //really// badly? your mind kind of slams down on itself, and sometimes the last thing that you think gets stuck in your head. and the last thing I wanted before I shut down was to [[stop hurting->rising action]].

Here's what's going on. This is your 30th incarnation. You've remade yourself and the entire //universe// 30 times, and things are starting to get a little worn down. The universe is starting to fray. You've been pushing it a little too much, and now you need to fix it before everything falls apart. It's a little concerning that you haven't started seeing the "hallucinations" yet. I don't think you've even started to manifest your abilities yet. Here. Try to make something for me right (link-reveal: "now")[(show: ?now)]. |now)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[...nothing?(stop:)]] (live: 2s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[That's not good at all.(stop:)]] (live: 3s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[Try [[again->again]]. Please. It's important.(stop:)]] ]

Yes! Yes, you're doing it! Keep concentrating. You'll get the hang of it eventually. Just remember to keep what you want to make in mind, if not you'll end up-- Oh (link-reveal: "dear")[(show: ?dear)]. |dear)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[What did you (link-reveal: "do")[(show: ?do)]?(stop:)]]] |do)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[We appear to be in a (link-reveal: "maze")[(show: ?maze)].<img src="https://ak1.picdn.net/shutterstock/videos/9417131/thumb/1.jpg?i10c=img.resize(height:10)">(stop:)]]] |maze)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[You don't happen to know the way [[out->maze]], do you?(stop:)]]]

[[Left->B]] [[Forward->D]] [[Right->F]]

[[Left->H]] [[forward->J]] [[Right->L]]

[[Left->L]] [[Forward->N]] [[Right->Q]]

[[Left->Q]] [[Forward->T]] [[Right->V]]

Dead End. [[Back to start->maze]]

[[Right->L]]

[[Arch left->1]] [[onwards.->Q]]

[[Forwards->W]]

Hm. A stack of crates. Wonder where those came from. Actually, they probably came from you. So. Wait! Did you hear (link-reveal: "that")[(show: ?that)]? |that)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[I thought there were (link-reveal: "footsteps")[(show: ?footsteps)].(stop:)]]] |footsteps)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[They're getting (link-reveal: "closer")[(show: ?closer)].(stop:)]]] |closer)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[Get down! (text-style: "shadow")[//[[Hide behind crates->hide]] [[Confront whatever is approaching->confront]]//] (stop:)]]]

Dead End. [[Back to start->maze]]

[[Onwards->Q]]

[[Right->Q]]

It's gone. Do you feel alright? Good. We should keep [[moving->3]].

Dead End. [[Back to start->maze]]

Finally! Here's the end of the maze. We're out. Nice job back there. At least we know you can still create in this incarnation. That means we can still go on with the (link-reveal: "plan")[(show: ?plan)]. |plan)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[But, I mean, we still have to work up to it. It's not an easy thing. Don't worry, though, I think you'll get the hang of (link-reveal: "it")[(show: ?it)].(stop:)]]] |it)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[Here's what we're going to do. In an attempt to help you remember your previous incarnations and practice your creation simultaneously, I'm going to tell you about a specfic object in your past and you have to (link-reveal: "create")[(show: ?create)] it.(stop:)]]] |create)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[[[Ready->training]]?(stop:)]]]

Be very still. There it is. Quiet your breathing. Can you see what it is? //(text-style: "shadow")[it's disconcerting to look at]// I hope it leaves us alone. //(text-style: "shadow")[[[confront it->confront]]] (text-style: "shadow")[[[wait for it to pass->wait]]]//

What are you doing? (text-style: "shadow")[//step fowards//] You should be careful, but I'll resume my narration if I must. The figure advancing towards you is tall and shadowy. It's difficult to discern its features, as its figure is constantly buzzing and distorting. I've seen this sort of thing before. They're the ghosts that form when you try to create something without defining it first. Sort of a manifestation of whatever your subconscious is trying to deal with. The last one I saw was called ''horror''. If you can (link-reveal: "name")[(show: ?name)] it, you may be able to make it disappear. |name)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[It's walking closer. Try to imagine what it could be. Is there something that's bothering you? A (link-reveal: "question")[(show: ?question)] that needs to be answered?](stop:)]] |question)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[(text-style: "shadow")[//[[why did i do that horrible thing?->why did you do it?]] [[what do i have to do to fix the universe?->repairman]]//]](stop:)]]

I know what you did. I don't know why you did it. All I can say is that you wanted to do the right thing, but sometimes it's hard to tell what's right and what's not. It's alright. You have the opportunity to fix it. [[I know you can do it->defeat2]].

I'm afraid you will have to learn to be a destroyer. You'll have to destroy what you've created. (text-style: "shadow")[(link-reveal: "how")[(show: ?how)] will i bring myself to do it?] |how)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[have strength. make your own strength if you have to. you can do it. [[you must do it.->defeat]]](stop:)]]

You step forwards and name the monster. (text-style: "shadow")[[[d r e a d->Y]]] There is a long, terrible pause where everything is silent. You take a deep breath and look ''dread'' in the face. It lets out a shallow gasp and disappears.

You step forwards and name the monster. (text-style: "shadow")[[[g u i l t->Y]]] There is a long, terrible pause where everything is silent. You take a deep breath and look ''guilt'' in the face. It lets out a shallow gasp and disappears.

There is sharp tension in the back of your neck. Behind the crates, you cry out and fall back against the maze walls, tilting your head back in an attempt to alleviate the feeling. Hey! Are you okay?! You open your eyes and see the creature looming over you. I've seen this sort of thing before. They're the ghosts that form when you try to create something without defining it first. Sort of a manifestation of whatever your subconscious is trying to deal with. The last one I saw was called ''horror''. If you can (link-reveal: "name")[(show: ?name)] it, you may be able to make it disappear. |name)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[It's walking closer. Try to imagine what it could be. Is there something that's bothering you? A (link-reveal: "question")[(show: ?question)] that needs to be answered?](stop:)]] |question)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[(text-style: "shadow")[//[[why did i do that horrible thing?->why did you do it?]] [[what do i have to do to fix the universe?->repairman]]//]](stop:)]]

(font: "Times New Roman")[<audio src="https://shutthehellup.yolasite.com/resources/Sunny%20Day-SoundBible.com-2064222612.mp3" type="audio/mpeg" loop autoplay></audio>It's about mid morning [[August fifteenth->2006]], 2006 and you are sitting in the overgrown grass of my backyard. There's a there is a [[broken playground set->playground]] behind you, and a large bricked patio extending from the back doors. [[I->me]] am sitting beside you. You've just ripped grass out of the ground and thrown it into my hair. The world is [[still and quiet->worries]]. We haven't spoken in a few minutes, maybe half an hour. I get up and enter [[the house->house]], and a few seconds later I return from the garage side door with (link-reveal: "something")[(show: ?something)]. What is it?] |something)[(live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[(font: "Times New Roman")[ A. [[our bikes->sprain]] B. [[car keys->young]] C. [[peanut butter chocolate chip cookies->allergy]] D. [[pink lemonade->correct]]] (stop:)]]]

(font: "Times New Roman")[We are nearing the end of summer break. So far the day has been uneventful-- you walked to my house, we tried to make pancakes, and you still have batter on your sleeves. We ended up having cereal. I miss being able to hang out like that. How old were we? Ten? Eleven maybe? I remember your birthday was a few days ago: we broke your trampoline and you sprained your [[ankle->training]].]

(font: "Tines New Roman") [It's been broken for as long as we can remember, and we've gotten more splinters here than we can count. By now we've stopped using it as much, but occasinally we sit on the swings. Your favorite thing to do was try and swing so high you flipped over the top bar. Needless to say it always freaked your mother out. She always worried a lot about you. Especially after she learned that you were allergic to a whole bunch of [[things->training]].]

(font: "Times New Roman") [We met in third grade because I thought you had sick kicks and I introduced you to bands that made you feel cool and it was better to sit together on the bus at the back instead of having to sit next to a total stranger. At around ten years old we started to diverge in height-- I've just started to get taller than you, but you weren't that much shorter yet. I think we were about to go into middle school, because I remember wearing a sweater that I intended to wear on the first day. You were not as eager to [[return->training]] to school.]

(font: "Times New Roman") [Something had happened the day before that had gotten you twisted, and I don't think you wanted to talk about it, so we'd gone through most of the day without saying anything. I think you were having difficulty putting things into words, and I don't think I wanted to [[push things->training]].]

(font: "Times New Roman") [I've only lived here for three years, since second grade. We live down the road from each other, so we've spent a lot of time at each other's houses. I think I would have called us friends, but I'm not sure if you would have done the [[same->training]].]

Yes, that's it. It was your favorite. (link-reveal: "Create")[(show: ?Create)]. |Create)[ (live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[Although you can't remember the last time you've had lemonade, you imagine that you can feel the perspiration on the glass, the taste sticking to the roof of your mouth, even how cold it is against your skin-- it's more of something you can //feel// instead of //know//. and the longer you feel through the hazy fog of forgotten sensations, the sharper the image becomes in your mind. And there it is. In your hands. Right now. [[You've done it!->trainingg]] (stop:)]]]

Nope. You sprained your ankle, [[remember->training]]?

Nope. We were too young to [[drive->training]].

Nope. You were allergic to [[peanut butter->training]].

Round two. (font: "Times New Roman")[<audio src="https://shutthehellup.yolasite.com/resources/Tree%20Frogs%20And%20Birds-SoundBible.com-225368035.mp3" type="audio/mpeg" loop autoplay></audio>It is November eighth, 2012. It's 6:30 at night and [[the sun has already fallen->fallen]]. I am the [[damaged one->hurt]] and you are the [[modern day Cain->betrayal]]. We have been tasked with retrieving Xanax from the CVS down the street but you feel like a smoke and I am determined to [[deny->hopelessness]] you one. Two bikes don't fit well side by side on the cracked sidewalk so I bike behind you. There is something rattling around in the [[open jar->jar]] in the basket zip tied to the handlebars. (link-reveal: "What is it?")[(show: ?thing)] |thing)[(live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[(font: "Times New Roman")[ A. [[a shared idea about existing->exist]] B. [[your favorite song->correctt]] C. [[the fear of addiction->addict]] D. [[what was left of the sunset->sun]]] (stop:)]]] ]

If I'm honest, I think I was the only one who was afraid. Most of my concern is kindness is selfishness disguised as altruism. I try to keep my own world, and not others', [[alive->trainingg]].

You never really seemed to be able to get the sun to do anything thing but melt between your fingers in milky, honeyed webs of [[light->trainingg]].

Do you remember what it sounded like? I can't. My own head is filled with different songs, but I know certain things always sing through you, regardless of what life you've lived. (link-reveal: "Create.")[(show: ?sing)] |sing)[(live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[ You struggle to pin down specifics of a melody, to remember what it felt like to sing yourself to sleep, to lift onto your toes in the CVS parking lot when you heard a familiar note, like the moon herself was singing to you. Which sounds silly and all, but as you acquiesce to the memory you settle into the (link-reveal: "homesickness")[(show: ?home)].(stop:)]]] |home)[(live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[The song seems to reverberate through your ribcage-- a lead weight between your lungs-- it fills the air and tangles around your (link-reveal: "outstretched")[(show: ?stretch)] fingers.(stop:)]]] |stretch)[(live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[I miss this (link-reveal: "sound")[(show: ?sound)].(stop:)]]] |sound)[(live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[Let's move [[on->reveal]].(stop:)]]]

(font: "Times New Roman")[In conjunction with manifesting your abilities, you grew more interested in outer space, and in a way I almost believed that every time you reached toward the sky, shards of it would slice into the palms of your hands. It was painful for you, knowing that the celestial sort of //family// you wanted to be a part of was too far away to reach, even for you. It was impossible for you to create stars and planets, not because they were too large to comprehend, but because you're too far away from them to know them. which is probably why you wanted to [[belong->trainingg]] to them so much.]

(font: "Times New Roman")[Maybe I'm just too touchy, maybe I make myself vulnerable because I demand vulnerability from others, //maybe// I wasn't built strong enough to be friends with someone who was so obssessed with the sun that I couldn't speak to them without interrupting their sky-gazing. Maybe I cross my boundaries when I try to stop you from swallowing chaos down in lungfulls but it's scary to see someone you called home slide down the drain into [[oblivion->trainingg]] because you're scared of being alone and you're scared of losing things.]

(font: "Times New Roman")[After we started diverging in height in 8th grade we started diverging in ideology. In a way, we both had our essence called into question-- who //were// we without everything else? What was left after the extraneous is taken away? I'm not entirely sure how to say this, so bear with me. You are defined by everybody that you meet, right? It doesn't matter if they were pretty cool guys or if they were assholes, you always react to people. These reactions leave a mark behind. All of these marks are then color-coded based on your feelings and arranged into a mosaic that paints your portrait, pixel by pixel. And everytime you lose someone, there's a part of yourself that is going to die. It's like something was ripped out from your portrait and it leaves a hole behind. Yet the the thing is, you'll grow up. You'll get over it. You're just going to paint over the hole in your portrait and you'll keep on going. In the end, the person's death didn't really mean anything. Unlike in fancy stories, deaths are anticlimatic and pointless. I mean, real events don't have any moral. They don't need to have a moral. It makes you discover something important about yourself that you can't see otherwise. It's when you realize that no matter how many times you lose parts of yourself, there's one part of you that never gets replaced. It's a part of you that just doesn't die. And it's the part of you that isn't defined by other people. I mean, it's like how you can't smell your scent, or how you don't recognize your voice when it's recorded. You're blind to the part that defines you the most because it's drowning in all the parts that come from other people. You can only find it when you start losing things. And you'll only meet it face to face when you lose everything. It's like looking at a night sky where all the stars go out one by one, until there's only one star left. You used to think that it was just a faint blinking light among all the other stars. Well now it's the only thing you have left so you start to pay attention to it, you take a closer look and you realize that hey, it's a //star//. It's a thundering deluge of constant themonuclear fusion blasting at full throttle. It's burning harder than you could even imagine and it was always there. It's like an ocean that was inside you all along and you just started hearing the rumble of its crashing waves. Through loss, we were forced to write our manifesto. And we just didn't [[agree->trainingg]].]

(font: "Times New Roman")[I spent about a week and a half locked up behind the doors of an inpatient psych ward when I was about 17. It emptied my head of the tangle of thoughts and forced me to come to terms with things I didn't really want to acknowledge were there. And it was hard. But you're supposed to want to get better, so you ache now and live later. Don't be swayed by the pain you feel. When I got back, it wasn't like everything was better. It gets quieter, but it never goes away. But my absence had widened the gap between us-- as I was getting help, you were getting worse. I think I felt guilty about it. I know I can't tell you what to do, but I was determined to [[save you->trainingg]], even though I barely knew how.]

(font: "Times New Roman")[The jar was the last of the glass things from my house. I was just going to toss it out, but you'd taken it before we slipped into your backyard, and spun your songs into wisps of clouds trapped in cool, clear walls. I twisted the lid over the top and felt the hum of contentment rolling off your chest in waves. I think it was the last time I felt [[safe->trainingg]]. Around you, at least.]

I'm afraid we didn't agree about many things that [[often->trainingg]].

(font: "Times New Roman")[It is May 21, 2014. The day of destruction. In the [[morning->morning]], you sit on your kitchen counter funnelling dorito crumbs into your mouth and I sit on the floor eating cereal out of a mug. In the [[afternoon->afternoon]], you feel a strange confusion sliding around in the pit of your stomach and try to knock yourself out of lucidity to avoid confronting it. I'm [[sorry->sorry]]. At [[night->night]] you found me, but you weren't yourself anymore. And all I wanted was for things to return to normal. Everything about you was unravelling, and I didn't want to let the undoing happen. So I persuaded you to do the first incarnation to save yourself. And [[you kept me around->requests]] to make sure you didn't find ''horror'' again.]

<audio src="https://shutthehellup.yolasite.com/resources/Sunny%20Day-SoundBible.com-2064222612.mp3" type="audio/mpeg" loop autoplay></audio>Weird how your whole life can go straight to chaos in a matter of hours. Nothing was wrong that morning. Or if there was, [[I didn't notice->reveal]].

(font: "Times New Roman")[<audio src="https://shutthehellup.yolasite.com/resources/Strange_Days-Mike_Koenig-176042049.mp3" type="audio/mpeg" loop autoplay></audio>I had to go to class, and I don't know what happened while you were alone. The reality of the situation is that you may have pulled the sky out from over us and into your chest, and it made it hard to breathe. Or you may have made something that was intended to whisk you away from your problems, and you lost yourself in it. Or maybe you tried to create something and ended up [[making a monster->reveal]] instead.]

(font: "Times New Roman")[<audio src="https://shutthehellup.yolasite.com/resources/Tree%20Frogs%20And%20Birds-SoundBible.com-225368035.mp3" type="audio/mpeg" loop autoplay></audio>I was in the habit of wandering around at night because it was hard to sleep. I hadn't seen you since that morning, so I didn't know that you'd come staggering into the park with the ghost/monster/abomination called ''horror'' beside you. You couldn't name it to make it go away. You were so dazed you couldn't have named //yourself// if you tried. ''horror'' looked vaguely like a woman I'd only seen a couple of times; one that had vanished when we were ten. A mother? A sister? Probably just another thing too far away for you to create. Instead of making what you wanted, you made something filled with your own revulsion for [[yourself->reveal]].]

I don't know how I would have stopped it, but [[I feel like I could have->reveal]].

(font: "Times New Roman")[I'm going to ask you for something. I'm going to //beg// you for something. This cycle needs to stop. This stretching and folding of the world around your will. I need to go. I need to stop being a voice in your head, and you need to stop forgetting what happened. You've destroyed me once in the past, but you keep destroying yourself, over and over, with every incarnation. Please stop. Please name the ''horror'' that resides in you and come face to face with what drives you to restart your life thirty times. Do not be swayed by the pain you feel. Save me. Save yourself. (text-style: "shadow")[//[[Incarnation 31->introductions]]. [[Save us->save]].//]]

(font: "Times New Roman")[You're back in the park at three in the morning. I sit on the bench in front of you. ''horror'' hovers near by. It is difficult to think clearly. It was easy enough to name the monster back in the maze. It was created out of a more volatile feeling that was there, and then gone. Now that you're face to face with ''horror'', it's harder for you to overcome the feeling. It's old, and formidable, and it will hurt to defeat. [[look at ''horror''->horror]] [[look at me->form]] There is something you need to do before you can defeat ''horror''. What is it? [[A. Reconcile with me->recon]] [[B. Realise the truth->recognise]] [[C. Let horror go->go]] ]

It's appearance isn't that shocking. It feels like you're looking at someone you've known for a long, long time. Coming into proximity with it lets you feel the tv-static crackle of its form. You've made ''horror'' your companion for the last nineteen years-- for the last 30 incarnations. It's always been there. It's what drives you to restart yourself over and over again. It's the hope that you can become something you're not. That at your essence, you won't do the horrible thing. But you've done it 30 times. Whether or not you remember. ''horror'' is not going to save you anymore. [[It has //never// been able to save you->save]] You cannot simply rely on the past to reassure yourself that this //will// work. You cannot ignore ''horror'' any longer, you have to destroy it.

It's been a while since I've been real. It feels like you're looking at a stranger. It occurs to you that you should say something to me, but neither of us attempt to speak. It's like time hasn't passed since the first incarnation-- your //original// life. You are still on the brink of decision, standing swaying in a park. I regret forcing you to reset the universe. I regret trying to save you only because //I// needed you. There is no need to reconcile with me. [[You'll just have to forgive me and move on->save]].

There's no need. [[I don't want you to->save]]. I don't deserve it.

I'm afraid that won't do. [[You can't let it go unchecked any longer->save]].

And the truth of it all is that running from ''horror'' through all of these incarnations has //not// helped you at all. It has helped you prolong the inevitable to the point where you've stretched the entire //universe// thin. You step forwards and name the monster. (text-style: "shadow")[h o r r o r] There is a long, terrible pause where everything is silent. You take a deep breath and look ''horror'' in the face. It flickers before you. The crackling dies down. ''horror'' lifts a hand, maybe to say goodbye, maybe to grab you, but you take a step back, and [[it vanishes->end]].

There's no pretending that life can go back to the way it was. In fact, as you live through this exact moment, this alternate ending with me sitting before you on a bench with the absence of ''horror'' burning through you, you know that things have to end. You have lived 30 lives, and I have lived them all with you. You've acted as creator for centuries, I have acted as guide. I failed to keep you from ''horror'', but you cannot fail us now. Now you act as destroyer. But it's not exactly scary. It's just the ending of something that should have ended long ago. It's just peace or freedom or //something//. And it's scary to think that I won't exist anymore, but I've been waiting for this for (link-reveal: "a long time")[(show: ?time)]. |time)[(live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[(link-reveal: "Thank you.")[(show: ?thanks)](stop:)]]] |thanks)[(live: 1s)[(t8n:"dissolve")[Good bye.(stop:)]]]