TW:: Slight derealization ___ Where: Steph's old room When: A long time ago Who: Steph, mention of Dolia, vague mention of Raemus ___ Steph was sitting on her bed, knees tucked up to her chest. The room felt smaller than usual, less familiar. She kept repeatedly clenching and unclenching her fist, watching her palm as if trying to check if she were real. Her skin hardly felt like hers anymore, everything else in the room seemed distant. She’d lost him too. It hadn’t even been a month since Dolia’s death, and she had already lost him as well. Was this the universe’s punishment for her simple existence? Was she cursed in some way? Whatever. There was no point in wondering. There wasn’t really a point in anything anymore. She should’ve expected this. It always turned out to be like this. There was nothing to be done about it. The endless torment continued to rage on her mind, guilt overwhelming her system– but she knew better than to cry. Crying never fixed a thing, if anything it usually made things worse. She laid back, staring at the ceiling which, in her vision, had begun to swirl and distort. Time continued to click endlessly onward, though still felt horrendously slow, as if the universe itself had decelerated down with her. She then remembered. She had talked with the stars about it a bit ago. The stars spoke to her– she wasn’t sure if it was just her hallucinating or if they actually told her things but nonetheless she still listened. It was the only thing that she couldn’t lose anyhow. She sat up once again, feet hanging off the side of the bed and she placed her fingers against the center of her forehead. The room grew dark around her, except it wasn’t actually the room anymore. She was just inside of her own mind. She looked up, screens were lined in rows. As she stared at them, each screen began to flick to life individually, lighting up with scenes that seemed to be memories. Important ones. The centerpoint had been that exact moment. Her eyes stung with tears as she watched it play on repeat and stepped closer, though again, she knew not to cry. She watched it play over and over and over again, before huffing and suddenly smashing her fist against it. The screen immediately shattered, crumbling to the ground soundlessly. She staggered a few steps back, before looking at the memory of the stars. She didn’t want to end up blaming herself for this in the future, she didn’t want to know that it was her fault for the gap in her mind, so she shattered that one as well. She panted, falling onto her knees and pressing her hands against the floor. Overwhelmed by the sudden painful sensation that radiated through her. She was back in the room, looking around. Everything felt normal. She got up from her bed, smiling and heading out the door as if nothing had happened, because to her nothing at all /had/ occurred. She forgot everything. She forgot him too. She chose to, and she doesn't know.
