It was colder, the grass rough against my skin. I looked up at the stars and they were fading too, lights shuddering out one by one as I made my way back to the farmhouse. I sprawled out on the couch, listening to the rest of Bryn’s records, filling the empty house with ghosts I’d never heard of before. I felt strangely deflated. I was sick of wandering around this island, delirious and confused, and finding nothing that actually meant anything to me. No clues. No answers.
And in my defiance I decided to just sit and wait. Which lasted a good half hour. Then I got restless, which made me anxious, which made me panic. I started to feel caged, as lost as I’d felt that first time I’d opened my eyes. Clues. I need to find some fucking clues.
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