she walks into the machinery, killing her, almost immediately. sorry, did i miss some context there? it doesn't really matter, because she really had no motive to do this. at all. the body "existed", albeit in a heavily mangled form, and it was hers, but she didn't die. i just talked to her yesterday. what the fuck did you do?
i walk these halls eternally. i'm not going to get an answer. every single time i try to mention this to her, she doesn't talk to me... ...well i guess that's kind of an exaggeration. she does talk to me, yet we can never get a proper conversation going on. i'm the only one pushing it here. i try to lure her into traps where she definitively has to respond with anything from her head that leads into any kind of conversation type, fucking ANYTHING... but she always manages to duck it. she loves me. i know full well that love is there, but i can't trust her anymore to try to figure out how the fuck this came to pass. are you scared yet? are you fucking scared yet? what the fuck happened to her?!
i saw the photo. dated the twenty-third. i'd talked to her on the fourteenth of the next month. not a scratch on her being. i know the person in that photo was her.
fuck. fuck. fuck. i'm making a fool of myself here. you're holding me in contempt, God. i'm sorry. at this point, i'm desperate for any sort of answer here. i know what i know. other people wouldn't possibly understand that. "the person in that photo isn't her". the amount of times i've heard that remark is unbearable to even think about. "maybe you should work on your relationship". we fucking do. it worked. i know there's love there. she won't tell me this for her own safety. i get it. i want to be able to help her here.
i found the place where the photo was taken. i found her fucking body. i almost want to get checked out for schizophrenia at this point -- the amount of people accepting this as "casual" worries the fuck out of me. makes me think i'm seeing things. two bodies, belonging to the same person. it's what makes the most sense here. i can't figure out another way. i can't figure out a single logical way this happened.
and the machine still works just fine, just the gears that crushed her being are laden with rust now.
Into the void, the cycle continues. She knew what she saw. She knows what she knows. She knew what she saw. She knows what she knows. Everyone else won't.