16th
What am I-
Who am I-
That thing in me- she saw it, she made me look at it....it's different than seeing a shadow in a mirror. It had my face. My voice- but it wasn't mine. Those eyes weren't-
Enough. Enough.
Sometimes, it feels as though the same scene plays over and over and over again, on a loop, because nobody knows how to stop it, nobody knows how to turn it off.
Broken noses are miserable, in case anyone was wondering.
[filtered to Timothy]
Timothy...I don't know what to say, except that I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
But I came back, like I promised.