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You know that you’re already dead. You want to keep time, it’s—it would be better if you knew when this would end. It’s been minutes, at least. You’re in constantly increasing physical discomfort, and that’s not the worst part.

You’ve been surrounded by these monsters—monsters that just can’t wait for the last bit of you to be choked out—since the start of this agonizing hour. You can’t even hope for the end, because the idea of inflicting this onto someone else is incomprehensible.

They’re staring at you. Maybe they’re bored too. The atmosphere is even more stagnant than usual. The lifeless lights that always unnerved you are now sickening. Despite this, you stare at the lights until your eyes hurt.

You ran at first, but they ambushed you. You think you heard words before they caught you. They pinned you down with a shelf and one of them dug their teeth into your shoulder. You cried. After that, they lifted the shelves off of you. They knew you wouldn’t run, because no one can help you—You wouldn’t run, because anyone you found would end up stuck in this long nightmare.

The afterimage of the lights remains even now that you’ve closed your eyes. You keep your eyes closed for a while. Then, you think, “I don’t want this to be the last thing I see.” So, the unnatural lights bathe your vision once more. The reason you looked at the lights in the first place was so you didn’t have to look at their wretched “faces”.

You feel mad—you can’t even move your legs now—so you lock eyes with the one to your right anyway. This is all because of them. You feel less empty with this anger. You want to shout. You try to shout, “Die in a fire!” You hate it all and you want them to know it. Yet, your throat suddenly feels like you swallowed a cheese grater, and it comes out barely a whisper.

You guess it was getting zoned out too, because it jolts up and looks you in the eye. You shudder—not shiver, the sensation of cold would be too merciful. Tears stream down your face, the tears stained red. You don’t even know if it could parse your words.

You want to tell to your family you love them, but you already tried that. Your phone had stopped recognizing your fingerprint by then. You can’t even feel your hands anymore, and you know better than to look.

Your head is feverish now, worse than your throat. You breath in deep and it burns. This is when you decide you won’t go quietly. It hurts your throat like the worst of hell, but they won’t forget you. After the first scream you don’t have the strength to sit up anymore, and fall forward. You inhale a lungful of the dirt on the floor, but that’s not what stops your torrent of expletives. You feel so numb, it all goes numb all over. Numb is easier, though, so you keep hollerin…

You don’t know where you are, or why you’re lying on the floor, but you’re happy! Everyone around you is happy too, just look at their smiles! You’re happy. Your mind is joyfully numb, and you know you’ll never be sad and lonely. You know you’ll never be sad and lonely, because you aren’t even alone in your head! You want to make everyone feel like this. You just know you can, and that makes you happy.

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