[ ...he is resting his hands a little more firmly against her, as if imploring her gently to rouse herself from the state she's in. (shock; denial.) Abel is cautiously beginning to turn her over, before lifting her body up into his arms to cradle her delicately, as if he were afraid she was made of glass - might break further than she's already been broken, if he's too careless. ]
Monts...?
[ this, too, is an illusion. surely. she cannot be hurt, right? she can't... die. she had survived that terrible fall, hadn't she? she-- any second now, she'll be fine. absolutely fine.
...this illusion will be shattered. she'll come around the corner, put a hand on his shoulder; even the monster's lilting voice would be a welcome alternative to this. the jarring absence of anything above the neck where he looks down where her face should be--
[ Error, error, error... Maybe, just MAYBE though... ]
If I don't, he'll cry. I'll be hurting him.
[ Not even the monster wanted to hurt him this way. She may have toyed with the idea of tearing him up, teasing the anger out of him so that she would have something that would make her feel alive and see what type of pain he could display, and be more truthful... But he's only shown her his heart and that she could sympathize with, that was the thing that softened her. ]
I have to get up.
[ The eyes from her head swivel around and then glance back and forth. This was going to be a slow process, but there's no doubt about it. She's awake, she CAN put the pieces back together. It's only two parts so it shouldn't be...
One arm from the headless torso shifts slightly trying to lift itself up. One by one, fingers curl into a fist trying to point to her head. ]
[ ...it takes him an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize she had moved. in all fairness... the lack of a head attached to her body is suitably distracting a sight.
but it's the little tug he feels as her arm shifts that has him finally forcing his eyes away from the ravaged state of her neck--
and he feels more than slightly light-headed, a tingly swim washing over him. --she is... moving. she is moving...? is she--
those eyes are quick to dart toward the ...head, where it had rolled away from the rest of her. Abel is rewarded by the sight of those eyes -- open. alert, even. alert and alive. brain function had not ceased; despite the disconnect from her beating heart... she was still maintaining consciousness--?
...
he swallows thickly against the dryness in his mouth as much as the sick feeling that has been building for some time, now. a tad uncoordinated, a little clumsy, but so very careful none-the-less -- he is gently settling her body on the floor. rising, hand groping to the wall where the mirror had been to steady himself as he steps over her.
...his hands shakily stretch, brushing the disheveled splay of her blood-smeared hair from her eyes. (maybe he's lost his mind. maybe... this time, he really has--) ]
[ She can't talk. All of this is unnatural, her existence could be considered blasphemous, but there's a semblance of logic to this mess seeing as how her vocal cords are damaged. But movement starts to appear in random places.
First, her torso which struggles to push itself up once Abel sets it on the floor. The mark that infects her body continues to swim around like a shining oil spill splitting into particles and then back into the black pool of her skin.
Her facial muscles are moving. Just a twitch of the lips, rapid blinking of eyes... And if Abel turns around, he'll see the outstretched arms from her body expectantly waiting to reunite itself. ]
[ unnerving. unnerving, gruesome... and achingly surreal. the girl who had hugged that oversized whale not too long ago, is the very same as the one who--
...
his hands are steady, somehow, when they come to carefully retrieve the wayward head of his friend. he's lifting her delicately, cradling her skull in his palms and delivering her to her own awaiting arms. hesitates, only to ensure her grip is firm and secure before letting go.
he can't say he is thinking straight in the moment; not terribly surprising considering the circumstances. but he can already feel the innumerable questions - worries, concerns for her and her fate - welling up inside him and tangling into a right mess she'll have to deal with later. because... she'll be coming back from this. because they will have a very long talk about everything, but--
only one thing matters right now.
...please, be alright. it's the lone furtive wish, the only thing he can focus on as he watches and waits to see her literally piece herself back together. ]
[ The process doesn't take long once he places her head in her hands. Her eyes close and other thoughts are shut off.
The monster intends to live. The monster intends to survive at all costs. This human body is frail, but its power is more than enough to make up for all of its flaws.
The fingers grip the sides of her face as it lifts it up and finally connects it to the cauterized stump of her neck. That damned skin mark begins to concentrate around the wound circling around it like a black whirlpool. It looks as if the head is about to slide off at first, but disconnected bones find their missing half, sliced skin begins to meld until the clean line begins to disappear. The noises being made are not pretty, but soon it dies away.
Monts is whole again and for a few frightening seconds, her eyes remain closed. When she opens them back up, they remain black and red. She moves her head back and forth and then rolls it around before stroking her neck with a satisfied hum. ]
Now, now, much better.
[ She looks at Father Abel with a look that can only be described as grateful. It's disconcerting. Her appearance and state of mind haven't reverted back and yet when she smiles at him, there's warmth, twisted as it is, made even more so by the horror that had been inflicted on her person. ]
[ in a long line of unpleasant events, suppose there's no harm in chalking up one more to the list. watching Monts replace her severed head atop her body... was not something he expected to experience, today.
there's a lot that happens to be unraveling he can't say was on his to-do list, actually.
'it's okay,' she says - and Abel only looks increasingly concerned. after a few moments of staring at her in incredulity, he is gently extending his hand to run his fingers down her unblemished throat. her regeneration... this is all too much like-- ]
...You... aren't.
[ 'okay.' the furthest thing from it, in fact.
but she's whole. and that... has to be enough, for now. ]
[ She shushes him softly as he runs his fingers down her neck reaching up to intertwine her darkened fingers in his. ]
It's not my time to slip into the limitless void, to sleep forever and never wake up. Someday, maybe, but I am too tenacious, too stubborn. I will live.
...
[ Closing her eyes she rests her cheek in his hand fondly. ]
I didn't want to hear you cry. So I fixed myself as quickly as I could.
[ ...ah. her fingers are just as steady and firm as they were last they tangled up with his. it's strange, isn't it? that he should feel reassured in some way by anything that has eyes like 'Monts', right now.
but he does.
everything has been put back where it belongs. if he didn't know any better, he could fool himself into believing it hadn't happened at all - that she had never been in pieces on the floor, scattered amongst all the broken glass.
...'didn't want to hear him cry,' hm? ironic how those are the words that make him most want to. ]
Please don't thank me.
[ it was his recklessness that permitted her to end up in this situation in the first place. his hand cups her cheek, thumb smoothing over soft skin as if in hopes of impressing his apology -- permitting himself just one more moment of indulgence to assuage his fears that she could've been stolen away and her life snuffed out, just like that. ]
...I'm sorry. [ the woman with the green eyes has been lost inside of this for so long, and... now, he's added one more terrible experience to the many in her life. ] You might not understand, but-- I'm sorry.
[ Monts. hold out for him just a little bit longer.
he's collecting himself, taking a steadying breath as he draws to his feet. the hand that softly strays from her cheek is held outward to help her up, should she take it. ]
And... I won't let that happen again.
[ nothing here will hurt her. ...they're getting out, now. he doesn't care how. ]
Oh, it's been so long, it's been so long... Let's see if I remember my tricks.
[ She takes a step back and stretches out one arm. Black petals rapidly swim around it and the ground starts to shake beneath them. Then, bursting from the floor are dark thorny vines that wriggle like tentacles as she frees them from the earth. ]
There we go... Entangle, strangle, trap us, no more.
[ With a wave of her hand, she directs the vines towards the mirrors and they grow in length breaking the mirrors directly. ]
They'll keep growing and growing until this place is tired of building walls to keep us in. Will it suffice?
[ he's taking a small step back at the protrusions that penetrade the flooring beneath their feet - and watching as the vines twist, grow, shattering the mirrors and dispelling any lingering traces of unpleasantness with them. ]
Either this place will tire of us, or...
[ or it'll piss it off and invite retribution,
what a fun coin flip!! guess they're about to find out which ]
...Let's keep going, see how it's looking up ahead. Please keep close, Miss Monts.
[ As swiftly as the vines grow and destroy the mirrors ahead of them, any leftover images and reflections meant to torture the two of them also disappear. Soon it's just flimsy walls and broken glass on the floor.
It doesn't take long although the vines have to go through what looks to be like several rooms of mirrors until a pale light is cast on their faces from the very far opposite end. ]
... I think we can leave now. The fun is over, we do not need to look at ourselves anymore.
[ that pale light is a Godsend. Abel is still on guard, unwilling to allow himself to heave a breath of relief until they two of them have made it far... far away from this hellhole.
...and until Monts has returned to herself, woken back up from wherever she's been lost in this creature's dreaming.
Abel is nodding his head, stepping forward with the crunch of broken glass underfoot as he cautiously proceeds toward that light, casting the occasional little glance behind him to ensure she is right at his back. ]
Then maybe it's time for you to give back what you've taken.
[ ...Abel hasn't given up on the missing green-eyed woman who should be walking beside him in the monster's place. ]
[ The dark vines begin to disappear, withering like dried-out dust, intermingling with the broken glass.
Abel's words make her fall silent. She starts to walk silently past him, hands clasped together like a prayer towards the light. ]
... May I tell you the rest of the story, Father? May I confess even as I am? A monster, a nightmare that should have never been?
[ Her voice is soft, but no longer poisonous. The delirium has been wearing off now that the mirrors are gone and there are no voices or demons of the past to hurt them. ]
[ blue eyes trail her lithe form as it passes him; her yo-yo between madness and lucidity is dizzying at times, but... he is praying that in her quieter moments, some trace of Monts lingers there, shows through. ]
...Do you think of yourself that way?
[ 'monster.' 'nightmare that should have never been.' ]
You have all of that woman's memories, and her feelings. So if that's true, then... you know I'll always listen.
What else could I be? No one knows what I am, no one has a word that I can claim.
[ Gradually, the particles on her body start to melt back into one dark veil. She wraps her arms around herself, much in the same way before she transformed. ]
And if you listen... I hope you'll realize that I'll listen too.
[ This is a murmur as if she meant to keep it to herself. For a moment she's silent as she glides across the floor taking no heed to any glass. When she finally decides to speak up there's clarity to her words. ]
That night when my neck was snapped and I could not move... Oh yes, I could not move, did not breathe, but I could still see, I could still hear, my heart slowed to a halt. They didn't know what to do. I might as well have been dead.
[ 'They' being the so-called friends she had spent time with, the voices from the rooms.]
So they took me, stuffed me in a trunk, drove me to a faraway place. Can't move, can't feel, but I can hear, I can see, I can smell.
[ The monster pauses and looks at Abel and there's sadness in her void-like eyes which makes her look more like the normal woman she's supposed to be. What she reveals next is said in a deadly low whisper. ]
They threw me in amongst the trash. I was never something to be treasured, just junk. Only crying for themselves, never for me.
[She buries her face in her hands mumbling to herself. ]
No one knows, no word to claim me, no one treasures what they do not know...
Edited (sorry trying to make it FANCY) 2021-04-27 01:17 (UTC)
[ ...humans, for all their great and limitless capacity for love and kindness, were also capable of exceptional cruelty.
the grimace finds his lips as he lets her story sink in. discarded like literal 'trash.' ...Abel wishes he could claim to be a better man - but, these words elicit a bubbling up of old resentment and anger, pain on her behalf.
his hands lightly stretch. no matter how much this creature has warped her appearance - Monts' pain is thick in every word coming out of her lips. this is her story. this is her grief. it's impossible to remain unmoved by it, and to resist the knee-jerk desire to ease it somehow.
he's gently reaching out, resting his hand lightly atop her head to soothingly stroke where her head is ducked. ]
...I'm sorry.
[ pieces of her had fragmented that day, he thinks. it wouldn't be shocking. 'death' isn't something normal people survive, and a mere brush with it can leave lasting scars that aren't physical, even on a 'normal' person. but someone in this condition - someone haboring, lost to, a darkness that defies all logic and reason that won't permit her to die...?
[ She leans into his hand after setting her own down so that they dangle by her sides. What a strange sight they must have made at that moment. Her shoulders are going slack as if resigned now that there was no longer any obstacle impeding them from exiting. ]
... The next few hours, I fixed myself and waited. Then I walked and searched.
[ She had tried to hunt all of them down, one by one, torture them with her presence. ]
But I said it already. I never did kill them. I hurt them for as long as I could before they ran away some more. But I was found and I was stopped...
... So here I am now.
[ The snowy white of her skin begins to fade away as do her eyes... ]
[ When they're finally outside, Monts looks up at Father Abel, eyes blue-green once again and heartbreakingly sorrowful and her voice choked up, but unable to sob. Her mark covers her body and starts to recede like a dark tide of water. ]
I still wish I could kill them, Father Abel.
[ There's something in the Scripture that says something about how murder in one's heart might as well be real murder. If so, then Marianna has committed it over and over and over again. ]
[ the mark slowly fading, dissolving from her skin... she's coming back to herself, isn't she? waking up from the dream she was having.
...and the relief is a little dizzying, he has to admit.
stepping out of the house of mirrors is gratifying enough on its own. seeing her eyes holding cognizance and familiarity... even if the expression on her face, the ache-inducing tone of her voice has his chest panging again--
it's Monts.
for a moment, all he can really bring himself to do is stare. this ordeal has been... enlightening. and exhausting. and concerning, and-- ]
...You really scared me this time, you... you know that?
[ don't mind the unsteady warble of his voice. he's really glad to see her. ]
[ Outside, the carnival is quiet, no empty. There are no more clowns, no whirring machines, and the electric lights that lit up the attractions barely flicker on and off.
Oddly enough (or maybe not, considering where they were), the giant whale and small shark plush that was won from the shooting gallery has been moved so that they're waiting on the table that she had dropped them off on.
The mark on her body continues to shrink as Monts looks up at Abel before reaching over to gently touch his arm. ]
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no subject
Monts...?
[ this, too, is an illusion. surely. she cannot be hurt, right? she can't... die. she had survived that terrible fall, hadn't she? she-- any second now, she'll be fine. absolutely fine.
...this illusion will be shattered. she'll come around the corner, put a hand on his shoulder; even the monster's lilting voice would be a welcome alternative to this. the jarring absence of anything above the neck where he looks down where her face should be--
any second now. ...yes, any second now. ]
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[ Error, error, error... Maybe, just MAYBE though... ]
If I don't, he'll cry. I'll be hurting him.
[ Not even the monster wanted to hurt him this way. She may have toyed with the idea of tearing him up, teasing the anger out of him so that she would have something that would make her feel alive and see what type of pain he could display, and be more truthful... But he's only shown her his heart and that she could sympathize with, that was the thing that softened her. ]
I have to get up.
[ The eyes from her head swivel around and then glance back and forth. This was going to be a slow process, but there's no doubt about it. She's awake, she CAN put the pieces back together. It's only two parts so it shouldn't be...
One arm from the headless torso shifts slightly trying to lift itself up. One by one, fingers curl into a fist trying to point to her head. ]
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but it's the little tug he feels as her arm shifts that has him finally forcing his eyes away from the ravaged state of her neck--
and he feels more than slightly light-headed, a tingly swim washing over him. --she is... moving. she is moving...? is she--
those eyes are quick to dart toward the ...head, where it had rolled away from the rest of her. Abel is rewarded by the sight of those eyes -- open. alert, even. alert and alive. brain function had not ceased; despite the disconnect from her beating heart... she was still maintaining consciousness--?
...
he swallows thickly against the dryness in his mouth as much as the sick feeling that has been building for some time, now. a tad uncoordinated, a little clumsy, but so very careful none-the-less -- he is gently settling her body on the floor. rising, hand groping to the wall where the mirror had been to steady himself as he steps over her.
...his hands shakily stretch, brushing the disheveled splay of her blood-smeared hair from her eyes. (maybe he's lost his mind. maybe... this time, he really has--) ]
Monts...?
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First, her torso which struggles to push itself up once Abel sets it on the floor. The mark that infects her body continues to swim around like a shining oil spill splitting into particles and then back into the black pool of her skin.
Her facial muscles are moving. Just a twitch of the lips, rapid blinking of eyes... And if Abel turns around, he'll see the outstretched arms from her body expectantly waiting to reunite itself. ]
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...
his hands are steady, somehow, when they come to carefully retrieve the wayward head of his friend. he's lifting her delicately, cradling her skull in his palms and delivering her to her own awaiting arms. hesitates, only to ensure her grip is firm and secure before letting go.
he can't say he is thinking straight in the moment; not terribly surprising considering the circumstances. but he can already feel the innumerable questions - worries, concerns for her and her fate - welling up inside him and tangling into a right mess she'll have to deal with later. because... she'll be coming back from this. because they will have a very long talk about everything, but--
only one thing matters right now.
...please, be alright. it's the lone furtive wish, the only thing he can focus on as he watches and waits to see her literally piece herself back together. ]
no subject
The monster intends to live. The monster intends to survive at all costs. This human body is frail, but its power is more than enough to make up for all of its flaws.
The fingers grip the sides of her face as it lifts it up and finally connects it to the cauterized stump of her neck. That damned skin mark begins to concentrate around the wound circling around it like a black whirlpool. It looks as if the head is about to slide off at first, but disconnected bones find their missing half, sliced skin begins to meld until the clean line begins to disappear. The noises being made are not pretty, but soon it dies away.
Monts is whole again and for a few frightening seconds, her eyes remain closed. When she opens them back up, they remain black and red. She moves her head back and forth and then rolls it around before stroking her neck with a satisfied hum. ]
Now, now, much better.
[ She looks at Father Abel with a look that can only be described as grateful. It's disconcerting. Her appearance and state of mind haven't reverted back and yet when she smiles at him, there's warmth, twisted as it is, made even more so by the horror that had been inflicted on her person. ]
It's ok. It doesn't hurt at all.
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there's a lot that happens to be unraveling he can't say was on his to-do list, actually.
'it's okay,' she says - and Abel only looks increasingly concerned. after a few moments of staring at her in incredulity, he is gently extending his hand to run his fingers down her unblemished throat. her regeneration... this is all too much like-- ]
...You... aren't.
[ 'okay.' the furthest thing from it, in fact.
but she's whole. and that... has to be enough, for now. ]
You're-- are you sure you're...
[ .. ]
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[ She shushes him softly as he runs his fingers down her neck reaching up to intertwine her darkened fingers in his. ]
It's not my time to slip into the limitless void, to sleep forever and never wake up. Someday, maybe, but I am too tenacious, too stubborn. I will live.
...
[ Closing her eyes she rests her cheek in his hand fondly. ]
I didn't want to hear you cry. So I fixed myself as quickly as I could.
Thank you.
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but he does.
everything has been put back where it belongs. if he didn't know any better, he could fool himself into believing it hadn't happened at all - that she had never been in pieces on the floor, scattered amongst all the broken glass.
...'didn't want to hear him cry,' hm? ironic how those are the words that make him most want to. ]
Please don't thank me.
[ it was his recklessness that permitted her to end up in this situation in the first place. his hand cups her cheek, thumb smoothing over soft skin as if in hopes of impressing his apology -- permitting himself just one more moment of indulgence to assuage his fears that she could've been stolen away and her life snuffed out, just like that. ]
...I'm sorry. [ the woman with the green eyes has been lost inside of this for so long, and... now, he's added one more terrible experience to the many in her life. ] You might not understand, but-- I'm sorry.
[ Monts. hold out for him just a little bit longer.
he's collecting himself, taking a steadying breath as he draws to his feet. the hand that softly strays from her cheek is held outward to help her up, should she take it. ]
And... I won't let that happen again.
[ nothing here will hurt her. ...they're getting out, now. he doesn't care how. ]
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Worry not, I will also move faster next time. Oh, but we don't want a next time do we?
[ Her voice is gleeful as if wanting to dare the mirrors to try the same trick again. ]
You've broken enough illusions. Allow me to try another way.
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What do you plan to do...?
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[ She takes a step back and stretches out one arm. Black petals rapidly swim around it and the ground starts to shake beneath them. Then, bursting from the floor are dark thorny vines that wriggle like tentacles as she frees them from the earth. ]
There we go... Entangle, strangle, trap us, no more.
[ With a wave of her hand, she directs the vines towards the mirrors and they grow in length breaking the mirrors directly. ]
They'll keep growing and growing until this place is tired of building walls to keep us in. Will it suffice?
no subject
Either this place will tire of us, or...
[ or it'll piss it off and invite retribution,
what a fun coin flip!! guess they're about to find out which ]
...Let's keep going, see how it's looking up ahead. Please keep close, Miss Monts.
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It doesn't take long although the vines have to go through what looks to be like several rooms of mirrors until a pale light is cast on their faces from the very far opposite end. ]
... I think we can leave now. The fun is over, we do not need to look at ourselves anymore.
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...and until Monts has returned to herself, woken back up from wherever she's been lost in this creature's dreaming.
Abel is nodding his head, stepping forward with the crunch of broken glass underfoot as he cautiously proceeds toward that light, casting the occasional little glance behind him to ensure she is right at his back. ]
Then maybe it's time for you to give back what you've taken.
[ ...Abel hasn't given up on the missing green-eyed woman who should be walking beside him in the monster's place. ]
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Abel's words make her fall silent. She starts to walk silently past him, hands clasped together like a prayer towards the light. ]
... May I tell you the rest of the story, Father? May I confess even as I am? A monster, a nightmare that should have never been?
[ Her voice is soft, but no longer poisonous. The delirium has been wearing off now that the mirrors are gone and there are no voices or demons of the past to hurt them. ]
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...Do you think of yourself that way?
[ 'monster.' 'nightmare that should have never been.' ]
You have all of that woman's memories, and her feelings. So if that's true, then... you know I'll always listen.
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[ Gradually, the particles on her body start to melt back into one dark veil. She wraps her arms around herself, much in the same way before she transformed. ]
And if you listen... I hope you'll realize that I'll listen too.
[ This is a murmur as if she meant to keep it to herself. For a moment she's silent as she glides across the floor taking no heed to any glass. When she finally decides to speak up there's clarity to her words. ]
That night when my neck was snapped and I could not move... Oh yes, I could not move, did not breathe, but I could still see, I could still hear, my heart slowed to a halt. They didn't know what to do. I might as well have been dead.
[ 'They' being the so-called friends she had spent time with, the voices from the rooms.]
So they took me, stuffed me in a trunk, drove me to a faraway place. Can't move, can't feel, but I can hear, I can see, I can smell.
[ The monster pauses and looks at Abel and there's sadness in her void-like eyes which makes her look more like the normal woman she's supposed to be. What she reveals next is said in a deadly low whisper. ]
They threw me in amongst the trash. I was never something to be treasured, just junk. Only crying for themselves, never for me.
[She buries her face in her hands mumbling to herself. ]
No one knows, no word to claim me, no one treasures what they do not know...
no subject
the grimace finds his lips as he lets her story sink in. discarded like literal 'trash.' ...Abel wishes he could claim to be a better man - but, these words elicit a bubbling up of old resentment and anger, pain on her behalf.
his hands lightly stretch. no matter how much this creature has warped her appearance - Monts' pain is thick in every word coming out of her lips. this is her story. this is her grief. it's impossible to remain unmoved by it, and to resist the knee-jerk desire to ease it somehow.
he's gently reaching out, resting his hand lightly atop her head to soothingly stroke where her head is ducked. ]
...I'm sorry.
[ pieces of her had fragmented that day, he thinks. it wouldn't be shocking. 'death' isn't something normal people survive, and a mere brush with it can leave lasting scars that aren't physical, even on a 'normal' person. but someone in this condition - someone haboring, lost to, a darkness that defies all logic and reason that won't permit her to die...?
... ]
1/2
... The next few hours, I fixed myself and waited. Then I walked and searched.
[ She had tried to hunt all of them down, one by one, torture them with her presence. ]
But I said it already. I never did kill them. I hurt them for as long as I could before they ran away some more. But I was found and I was stopped...
... So here I am now.
[ The snowy white of her skin begins to fade away as do her eyes... ]
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[ When they're finally outside, Monts looks up at Father Abel, eyes blue-green once again and heartbreakingly sorrowful and her voice choked up, but unable to sob. Her mark covers her body and starts to recede like a dark tide of water. ]
I still wish I could kill them, Father Abel.
[ There's something in the Scripture that says something about how murder in one's heart might as well be real murder. If so, then Marianna has committed it over and over and over again. ]
no subject
...and the relief is a little dizzying, he has to admit.
stepping out of the house of mirrors is gratifying enough on its own. seeing her eyes holding cognizance and familiarity... even if the expression on her face, the ache-inducing tone of her voice has his chest panging again--
it's Monts.
for a moment, all he can really bring himself to do is stare. this ordeal has been... enlightening. and exhausting. and concerning, and-- ]
...You really scared me this time, you... you know that?
[ don't mind the unsteady warble of his voice. he's really glad to see her. ]
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[ Outside, the carnival is quiet, no empty. There are no more clowns, no whirring machines, and the electric lights that lit up the attractions barely flicker on and off.
Oddly enough (or maybe not, considering where they were), the giant whale and small shark plush that was won from the shooting gallery has been moved so that they're waiting on the table that she had dropped them off on.
The mark on her body continues to shrink as Monts looks up at Abel before reaching over to gently touch his arm. ]
Sorry for scaring you. Sorry for all of that.
1/2
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...are you-- okay? You...
[ lost yourself in your memories,
lost yourself to your inner demon(s),
lost your head--
...maybe he's a little. concerned. ]
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