Above all else, I have to find out who tried to kill me. Morpheus told me that the toxins had already been removed from my body, that they were able to save me, but my mind is still lost. In order to get it back, I'd have to dive into the backwaters of my wayward thoughts and get a glimpse of what was going on before all this.
I didn't know how to do this; all that Morpheus told me to do was to keep going forward, eventually I'd get back far enough. Then he showed me a door, and I've been going through corridors since.
So many corridors, good lord. I'm sick of it. They vary so much; some were a deep crimson with a velvet lined ceiling, some were baby blue and split into many different doors, some were modern with bright windows. Some were even familiar, probably fragmented bits of my memories - but of that I'm not sure. All I know is that they felt very nostalgic.
Anyway, I figured whenever I come across a hall that felt right, I should always follow it to the end. I also figured it was a bad idea to backtrack, since Morpheus told me to go forward. Anyones guess would be as good as mine at this point.
The deeper I followed the more strange and familiar corridors, the more I started to remember things, but also, the more it hurt to do so. My head was throbbing, and I was experiencing powerful memory triggers, ones that called very vivid and detailed bits of my past.
Bam! My first fall off my first bike, ouch;
Bam! My foster mother scolding me for setting the kitchen on fire back in '79;
Bam! My... my father? My biological father? What is he doing? I don't remember him like this at all. This is completely different than I remember him.
Wait, there's someone else here too. Dad is packing heat, and it doesn't look like he's pulling it out to show it off. Some shit is going down here, but who is that other person?
Lock, stock and barrel. I better do something before dad does something he'll regret.
"Hey!" Shit, they can't hear me. What should I do?
Bang. Only took one shot - dad always was a good shot. I remember now, him telling me that a man with a machine gun is no scarier than one with a pistol. He told me that in the end, it only takes one bullet to bring a man down.
He's leaving, doesn't look like I can stop him either. Oh well, let's see who his unlucky point of interest was.
Oh. My. God.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
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