(II) MEMOIR
HOW DID YOU KILL REALITY?
I COULDN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE. THE NEVER-ENDING NIGHTMARE OF REALITY WHISKED AWAY MY MIND'S REMANING SANITY. I TRIED TO OVERDOSE, UNSUCCESSFULLY.
WHO IS YOUR ANGEL?
I SUPPOSE I LOOKED UP TO THE ONE I KNEW AS "AGENT FOX."
WHERE IS YOUR HOLY PALACE?
IN MY ROOM, WHERE IT IS SAFE. THERE ARE COUCHES AND SEATS NEXT TO A WARM FIREPLACE, AS WELL AS BOOKSHELVES FILLED WITH EVERYTHING I COULD EVER WANT TO KNOW. THERE ARE NO WINDOWS FOR THE PRYING EYES THAT WISH TO WATCH ME.
WHAT IS YOUR MIRROR?
MY GLOVES, WHICH CONCEALS THE SCARS ON MY HANDS. THEY KEEP ME SAFE FROM OTHERS' JUDGEMENT OF MY COMPULSIONS AND UNWILLING SCARS.
WHY ARE YOU HERE?
TO SEEK THE ANSWERS, TO FIND THE TRUTH. I NEED TO KNOW MORE, MORE, MORE, AND EVERYTHING, SO THAT I MAY BE SAFE FROM EVERYTHING, FOREVER.
