At home
[Slugger opens his bedroom door, walks down to the kitchen, takes a seat at the breakfast table, and awaits his morning waffles and orange juice. Just like every morning.
Just like every morning...
He begins to breathe a little faster.]
At home; front steps
[The front steps are littered in pages and pages of notes. Surrounded by the papers,
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Read more... )
Comments 128
You're remembering the wrong things too?
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Yes.
[Except he's having trouble remembering which things are false and which are true. He looks at her. Ai...]
What do you remember?
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[She looks at the page he wrote on. She remembers fake memories of walking with him, and real memories of walking with him.....and it's hard to tell which is which.]
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Your name is Enma Ai. You are the Hell Girl. You like cherries.
[The rest is uncertain.]
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No. He wasn't. They weren't friends since childhood. They weren't friends. ...Were they? I mean, what did they do that was so friendly? I mean, they'd call each other names, and screw around with each other and go fishing and
No. Wrong. Only part of those even happened. And that still wasn't....what was it? He didn't know.
He just stops when he sees Slugger, pausing before bothering to say anything.]
Hey.
....There's something wrong.
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Pokey...
I know. Read this.
[He passes you a note. Unfolded, it reads:
My name is Slugger. I am a monster. I have been trapped in Mayfield for 10 months. This is not my home. ]
Does it look right?
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I....
I don't know. Yes? I mean. It makes sense but if it looks right I don't....
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You are Pokey Minch. You have something named Josephine---
[A dog? No. It's bigger, it's not alive. But not a car...]
---a machine. This isn't your home, either.
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[Freezing. Freezing in place. The word seems to have left a rotten taste in Edward's mouth.]
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Why?
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Slugger?
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'My name is Slugger. I am a monster. I have been trapped in Mayfield for 10 months. This is not my home.' ]
It's for myself. To remember.
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Good morning, Slugger. It's a shame you can't wait up this early during the school year. Excited for the holiday?
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Susan...
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I'd prefer Mis -- ... I'd prefer Mother, if you would, dear. You're not quite so grown up yet. Have some eggs and we'll start to prepare for our picnic.
[Susan looks slightly confused as she doles out a generous heaping of scrambled eggs... dyed red and blue.]
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That color. Isn't it supposed to be... black?
[Black. Yes. Susan is fond of black.]
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