(no subject)
He's running... he's not running. He's stumbling, falling, walking. He's flying. He's a mile off the ground and the lights are like fireflies under his dangling feet. He's walking and it's raining and he's cold and frightened and the lights are too far away.
He doesn't remember. He remembers running. He remembers finding clothes in a pile of trash. It's just like old times, only worse, because in those days he had his memory without a gaping black hole in it and his clothes didn't stink of garbage. He'd kept himself clean, considering. Nene, in the station bathroom, he'd had a feeling that Nene could be particular.
Nene.
He grits his teeth and stumbles again. A woman glances his way. He ignores her.
Traitor, saw him walk away, saw what you were worth to him in the end. Whore. Whore. Couple thousand chips buy all your time? Couldn't buy him back.
"Shut up," he mutters, raising a hand to his forehead. "Just. Shut up." He remembers this, vaguely, at least he knows they were with him before. It's them who took Nene away, while he was taking himself away too. It's everyone's fault. Everyone's to blame.
Traitor.
He stops outside a neon-lit window without knowing what it's selling, lights a bent cigarette with shaking hands. He was running. He's out now. Lost time doesn't matter if he can't remember it anyway.
He was running. Now he has to find a way forward.
He doesn't remember. He remembers running. He remembers finding clothes in a pile of trash. It's just like old times, only worse, because in those days he had his memory without a gaping black hole in it and his clothes didn't stink of garbage. He'd kept himself clean, considering. Nene, in the station bathroom, he'd had a feeling that Nene could be particular.
Nene.
He grits his teeth and stumbles again. A woman glances his way. He ignores her.
Traitor, saw him walk away, saw what you were worth to him in the end. Whore. Whore. Couple thousand chips buy all your time? Couldn't buy him back.
"Shut up," he mutters, raising a hand to his forehead. "Just. Shut up." He remembers this, vaguely, at least he knows they were with him before. It's them who took Nene away, while he was taking himself away too. It's everyone's fault. Everyone's to blame.
Traitor.
He stops outside a neon-lit window without knowing what it's selling, lights a bent cigarette with shaking hands. He was running. He's out now. Lost time doesn't matter if he can't remember it anyway.
He was running. Now he has to find a way forward.