Can't Stop, Won't Stop

It was hard say exactly what kind of mental processes governed Johnny’s mind. Anne could only make guesses, those were automatically flawed due to the crucial point that she was not insane.

That was one insight into reality she could not pretend to have.

Logical theories regarding Johnny’s behavior never seemed correct…because Johnny was not logical. This was frustrating for Anne, but she was beginning to get used to it. To expect the unexpected, as it were.

There’s only so much you can expect however. So much you can assume, can gues about someone’s motivations.

Anne could not understand Johnny and she was fairly sure she did not want to. Johnny was demented in ways Anne did not want to repeat. Stare too long and the abyss stares back at you.

That was the last thing Anne wanted. Even if it gave her more insight to pretend to be insane…it was not worth it.

However, her recent thoughts had led her to one inevitable conlcusion. Somehow, over the course of time, she had invested emotion into their relationship. An emotion over than fear.

Anne rebelled against this feeling violently, recognizing it quickly as stupid and self-defeating. She doubted that Johnny cared very much about her at all, considering his crapicious and moody nature, and he certainly was not interesting in making Anne happy.

And yet, somehow the conection of “friend” had been made, at least in Anne’s mind. In the flickering darkness of the movie theater, she had seen something that changed her. Changed her perspective.

Change her reality.

So Anne was unable to refuse when Johnny had asked her to come over. He sounded eager about something, although he did not clarify exactly what it was. Not the most comforting unclarified mood for Johnny to be in, but the again…eager Johnny was better than suicidal Johnny and definitely far better than homicidal Johnny.

Anne was already seeming somewhat afraid as she walked up to the door, fearing another surprise attack. Johnny had proven again and again that he could consistently ambush and incapacitate Anne without any kind of trouble or warning.

She didn’t trusted him yet, and probably wouldn’t for a long time.

The door yielded to her when she turned the knob and Anne stepped inside. This time the sorroundings seemed to have changed just subtly. The rabbit on the wall was now missing it’s head. The hideous Styrofoam things had been moved. A book was opened on the floor and a pencil nearby.

But other than that, the house seemed to retain the same quality it always had. Broken, desolate, deserted, unkept, decaying, and old. In a way, it seemed the perfect inviroment for Johnny, and Johnny only. Anne felt so out of place here.

Johnny was sitting on the coach and staring at the door intensely as if he had been willing Anne to walk through it. Anne could not guess as to how long the maniac has sat there with that fixed, expectant expression.

Johnny looked more tired than the last time she had seen him. The dark rings under his eyes had expanded and darkened in color and the twitchiness present with an exhausted person, particularly the kind trying to hide that exhaustion, was painfully obvious.

“Nny?”

It was almost as if she was not there until she said something. The raspy, sharp voice broke the air.

“Ah, there you are.”

Johnny smiled in what Anne guess was supposed to be a disarming way, and it worked; she could not help but smile back at him.

Silence.

Unsure of what to do next, Anne turned and hung her coat on one of the nails protruding from the boards over the window.

She did remember bringing her coat this time.

“I need to ask you something.”

“Okay.” Anne logically guessed this was something to important to discuss over the phone. She had no idea what it would be. She tucked her hands into her jean pockets

“I’m having difficulty with my reality.”

No surprise there.

“You may recall me mentioning how reality is somewhat relative. I’m beginning to question it, in terms of being relative to me. Something like…an anchor.” Johnny ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll get into that later. But lately it’s becomed somewhat difficult for me to tell reality from fantasy. To remember what’s real and what’s noy real. Things are kind of breaking down.”

He probably hasn’t slept in a week. That would explain it.

Shut up, this is important.

“Breaking down?” Anne felt as if she had to say something in response. Fortunately Johnny took this as an invitation to continue.

“The point’s that I’ve been wondering about something for the last few days. You have may noticed…” Johnny looked at her for a moment, his expression softening along with his train of thought. “You’re unique, you know that. I let you live. So I’m assuming you went to the police?”

Anne nodded. No use in lying there, they were of no help anyway.

“And they didn’t help you.”

Anne shook her head. “It was as if you didn’t exist.”

“Exactly!” Johnny’s voice change tone so quickly that Anne could not help but jump. He was surprisingly exultant. “I can get away with anything. Almost nothing on earth can catch me, can touch me. To some extent, I’m invulnerable.”

Johnny lowered his arms, his expression and tone changing again. He stared intently at his hands, his voice soft and thoughtful.

“To some extent. That’s why I asked you here. I want some clarification. I need you to do something for me.”

“Well…”Anne struggled to process this new information fast enough. “I’d be willing to help you, but I’m not sure exactly what you mean. What do you want me to do?”

“It’s just a minor experiment. Nothing I hope will be too difficult for you.”

I doubt he meant that to be condescending.

“I decided to ask you to do this because when you talk, it doesn’t makes me wanna gouge your eyes out with forks.” Johnny paused, looking clinically and distantly to something past Anne entirely. Anne was trying desperately to get that mental image out of her head and keep her facial expression neutral at the same time. “It may hazard to say I have grown almost fond of you. A friend, or atleast as close as anyone could get.”

Anne did not expect that.

“There was one before you that I did care deeply about. She and you are the main forces behind this theory of mine. You know how the police did nothing? How I can do almost anything and not get caught?”

Anne nodded, not sure how else to respond.

“I am invincible to petty, weak people. Those out there who have nothing better to do than wallow in humankind’s collective shallow filfth. The authorities are powerless. They can’t find me, control me or do anything to stop me. However.”

Johnny paused again, although he seemed struggling to keep his clinically calm demeanor. “There seem to be…exceptions. I’ve suffered minor scratches at the hands of others, but no one can truly hurt me. But when I showed enough…seemed to care about people, they gain the ability to…change my reality, so to speak. To give them the power to touch me.”

What happened to her? She escaped, didn’t she?

Yes.

So what happened to you?

Goodbye, Anne.

“That girl…” Anne almost snapped her fingers at the simple mental connection but restrained herself. “The girl you mentioned before…”

Johnnt was silent for some period of time before he finally turned away, hands holding tightly onto his upper arms. Anne was unable to see his face but the sadness in his words made it very clear.

“Bianca hurt me.”

There was a silence after this that Anne felt was exceedingly uncomfortable. She had no idea how to respond, what to say to soothe something like that. She was notoriously bad at this. But she couldn’t just stand here and say nothing…there had to be something…

Before she could speak, Johnny turned , breaking the silence. He had the same obsessively psycothic look he had before when he had tried to explain his motivation to kill Anne. Whatever sadness that was present before seemed to be gone now.

“But you see, this is my point! No one else could ever touch me, but when I care, when I reach out to others, they, by association, can reach out to me. They can hurt me. They can affect my reality while other people flicker and vanish like phantoms. If I care, they can cause me pain.”

Johnny turned and picked a small black thing off the floor smootly, still talking as he did so. While he spoke, he moved forwards, extending his hand and offering the black thing to Anne. Unsure of what else to do, Anne took it.

“I mentioned before that I could not die. That I was an anchor. To think that all this, this entire reality, could depend on me. That could be why I don’t die, why I can’t be stopped. If I was a focal point the entire universe, there would be no way that I could be killed. But Bianca was able to inflict damage on me, and that puts an element of doubt into my theory. I want a definitive answer. I want a definite conclusion to my question.”

Johnnt stepped back, the tazer on Anne’s hand. He moved his arms behind his back, staring at her with totally deadpan expression.

“So Anne, I want you to kill me.”

Anne stood there for a few moments before finally a word came to her mind.

“…What?”

Johnny leaned back, resting against the side of his couch as his demeanor again changed, this time to the same carefree kind of tone he had used in describing the death of the store clerk. “Haven’t you ever used a tazer? It’s simple, just point it at my head and-“

“Nny, that’s not the point!” Anne was having a great difficulty in keeping her voice under control. She had not prepared for this. She had no idea what to do, but she had to make sure she stayed calm. Johnny was in a precarious state…she had to be careful. “Do you know what you’re asking me?”

Almost like a small child, Johnny inclined his head at her and grinned widely, he responded with the same kind of cheerful innocence. “I’m asking you to help me.”

Anne sighed.

It would seem like that to him.

"I think we have different opinions of help here.” Anne looked down at the black thing in her hands as she tried tried to phrase herself correctly. “I can’t…this isn’t… I-“

Johnny just stared at her.

Anne took a deep breath as she collected herself, carefully constructing her sentences before they found voice. “I would have to disagree with you on this point, Nny. The logic here is somewhat flawed. If you are an anchor for reality, as you said, then you would not be able to die, or else by association the whole universe would collapse as well.”

There you go. Open with an agreement to his previous statement, then…

“Your… ‘invisibility’ lends credibility but…” Anne again took a deep breath, hoping to keep her voice steady and even. Johnny continued to stare at her. “The argument for Bianca does not make sense.”

That felt wierd.

What?

Saying her name.

It’s not important right now.

“Even if you could only be hurt by people you care about, being injured is vastly different from being killed. I could be deathly wounded but still survive. If I were an anchor, as you claimed to be, then I could be beaten by an inch of my life, but the universe would remain intact because I wouldbe alive. The fact that Bianca hurt you would not prove or disprove your status as an anchor. Also, I’m not sure why only people you cared about would be able to breech this barrier of realities… you’d think it would be the only way around. That someone you cared about would help you build a wall, to protect you from harm.”

Johnny was sinking slowly, leaning heavily onto his arms as he sat on the armrest. His eyes narrowed at Anne dangerously.

Not good. This is not good. Say something, quick. Say somethig nice or someting, try to calm him down.

“This is all just skirting the primary issue, though.” Anne, at the sight of Johnny just staring at her intensely, was feeling somewhat frightened and nervous. “It doesn’t really matter if you are correct of not, I wouldn’t try to kill you anyway. It’s-“

It’s not my nature It’s not right It’s not legal It’s not

“I mean…you had mentioned before that you had become somewhat…’fond’ of me. That you kind of consider me your friend.” That still seemed entirely unbelievable. “Now I feel that you are to some extent my friend as well, and such I don’t want to hurt you. I…I wouldn’t be able to kill you, even if you gave me a logically sound reason.”

That’s not true.

Shut up.

Johnny just glared at her. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and unemotional. “So you’re not going to help me.”

Anne turned away, hoping that she was doing the right thing and saving her own life at the same time.

Would you be willing to compromise one for the other?

This is not the time.

“Not in this way, no.”

There was a pause and Anne stared at the small electric device in her hands.

You said yourself he is in constant pain. This world doesn’t seem to want him here. It rejects him. Violently. He rejects it back. He’s suffering, collapsing, and he said himself he doesn’t know what’s real. He wants you to make it stop.

No. I can’t do that.

I thought you wanted to help him feel good.

I am NOT going to kill him.

You contradict yourself an awful lot.

It’s not intentional and I am not going to-

She heard the slightest sound of motion behind her. This was followed by an angry, vicious scream.

“YOU IDIOT!”

Anne whirled in time to see Johnny leap from his perch on the arm rest, his knife almost seeming to have appeard in his hand.

A few seconds later and the back of Anne’s head hit the floor violently. A moment of dizziness, a loss of vision, then she was able to make a vague from crouched above her, holding the knife at an obviously threatening angle.

The same psycothic, almost panicked voice.

“KILL ME!”

“NO!”

With the first words that came to mind, Anne unintentionally almost matched Johnny’s tone.

Johnny raised he’s blade high, preparing to strike, when something stopped him. He was silent for only a moment before he raised his eyes and voice to the ceiling with familiar tone of injured dignity.

“I swear to god, this happens every time! Every time I try to do one thing, every time I try to make myself happy, to end this painful and stupid existence, something ruins everything! Something wants to see me here, to see me writhe in pain at the hands of those vicious creatures out there that call themselves human!”

Without thinking, Anne’s free hand began to grope around the floor for the dropped tazer, her eyes staring at Johnny in confusion. Apparently, Johnny had become more interested in his own self-righteous speech that he had forgotten about Anne. The hand once intended to deliver a killing blow now gestured dramatically.

“I want this to stop, I want to know for certain, I want this uncertianty to stop! I want to know things and the only person who can tell me won’t help me! She refuses! Why? If you truly were my friend, Anne, then you would have helped me! If you truly cared at all, you would try to make my reality permanent! To stop this shifting and endless confusion! To make everything stop! God!”

Interesting that he calls on him too.

Anne was too concentrated in finding the tazer to think of a response. Her fingers brushed against some shards of glass, the hardened places in the carpet where liquid that had forced the threads to bind together, vague moist areas as if someone had spilled something, crumbs that seemed to be everywhere and grittered against her skin. Finally, she felt the cool plastic and she closed her fingers quickly around the device.

Johnnt continued gesturing and speaking, although it seemed as if he was not speaking to Anne at all.

“Do you know what’s like? Do you? To wake up and wonder if everything is a dream? To wake up and not know if you woke up at all? To continually fight against a brutal and unrelenting stream of human shit and make no progress? I’m spinning in circles and there’s nothing I can do! I don’t even know if it’s a circle any more! Fuck, it could be an octagon for all I know! This is my point! You don’t know what this is like! You sit there in your tower and tell me that you’re my friend, and yet when I give you my salvation you throw it back in my face! Can you think of anyone but yourself, or are you just as selfish as those out there, only you’ve hidden it better? I asked for one thing, just ONE thing! I wanted your help and you wouldn’t give it to me! How can you do this to me?”

I had no idea he was this messed up.

Johnny seemed to regain his composure, remembering he had the object of his current malice pinned beneath him. His eyes turned back down to his captive prey, angru and accusing. “Well, never mind. I’ll kill you, them myself. I don’t need you after all.”

Sometimes it is difficult to understand someone else’s motivations, the mental process that govern they behavior.

Sometimes, it is as clear as one word.

Survive.

As Johnny raised his knife again, now staring down at his prey with the same clinically detached look that Anne was so familiar with, Anne acted. Without any kind of true conscious thought, her hand flew upwards blindingly.

Unexpectedly.

Johnny had no time to react before the electricity flooded him and then all he could do was convulse. His hand opened involuntarily, thin fingers jerking, moving independently of one another as the knife fell to the floor.

The current stop after a few long seconds.

Johnny squeaked.

Then he fell.

Anne took several deep breaths, the sheer of adrenaline running through her body making it difficult to think clearly

She looked over to one side, finding Johnny lying inert on the ground, eyes wide open. He had fallen to one side although his legs had not completely followed his motion. One rested across Anne’s own legs while the other was trapped beneath Johnny’s own thin body. The maniac’s hands lay uselessly at his sides, unmoving.

It is at this point, Anne, that I would like to suggest you run.

Anne stared at Johnny’s body for a few moments, unable to fully comprehend what she had done. Only her heartbeat thudding into her ears and the soft sound of her breathing broke the silence.

Did I do that? How could I…did I? I…

Finally, she found actions and moved Johnny’s leg of her softly then moving over to one side where she could examine him more clearly.

“Oh my god…”

She rolled him onto his back and Johnny remained stubbornly unresponsive. His wide glassy eyes stared ghoulishly at the ceiling, pupils frozen in position.

All kinds of emotions surged into Anne but the predominant one was panic.

“Oh my god, Nny! Nny, are you okay? I didn’t meant to…oh god…”

Congratulations Anne, you killed him. Let’s go to Disneyworld.

Anne narrowed her eyes and frowned at her own mental disrespect.

You’re not helping.

That’s not what I do.

Anne struggled to ignore her inner voice as she stared down at his body. With every second of silence Anne felt more and more panicked. She had to do something, say something, quickly! She found herself holding her head, her hands desperate to be doing something at such a time of emotional stress.

“I didn’t… what if I did kill him? Oh god, if I did kill him…I’m not invisible like he is, I’ll be caught!” She paused and thought about her own words with some degree of distaste. “An why do I think that’s important? I could have killed him! I did kill him! I didn’t mean to…I didn’t want to hurt him, but…oh god…”

Anne buried her hands in her hair, unable to deal with such sudden rush of emotion. She had always kept her emotions in strick order, but now she was completelty out of control. She spiraled into her own morass of feelings that she had never experienced and therefore could not identify. She could not find any kind of landmark, some kind of place where she could stop feeling for a moment and find a way back to rationality.

She did not know what to do.

Her body was jerky and responded too quickly, too slowly. Her heartbeat continued to beat louder, beating through her hands, the sound echoing in her mind.

She had never felt something this strongly before.

Then again, she had never killed someone before.

She breathed hard, struggling to keep herself under control and to not bolt from the house in fear. What could she do? There had to be something she could do, there had to be something-

Johnny coughed.

Anne stopped dead and stared down at Johnny’s now moving body with shock and some degree of horror.

“Oh my god, Nny, Nny are you okay? I-“

Johnny burst into maniatical laughter, startling Anne into wide-eyed silence. “Ha ha ha ha! I no die! In knew it! Mwa ha ha ha!”

Anne had been panicked before, paralyzed with all sorts of indescribable emotions, but know all she felt in response to Johnny’s inexplicable resurrection was annoyance.

Johnny searched until he found the tazer, looking at it gleefully. “Hee hee, right to the brain! Hee hee! I can’t die! I’m invincible! Nothing can touch me! Hee hee!”

That wasn’t the reaction you expected, was it?

How can he be this way?

There’s no good answer for that.

Johnny continued to talk, although this time it was definitely not to Anne.

“What? So what if I forgot to recharge it! It means the same thing! Something prevented me from doing that! Something doesn’t wants me to die either ways so it doesn’t matter if I forgot or not, D-boy!”

Who is he talking to?

Do you really have to ask?

Anne took deep breaths. She felt furious with Johnny, angry at him for putting her through this kind of emotional turmoil, for making her lose control and sending her falling for that terrifying moment-

“Thanks for your help, Anne.” Johnny’s voice was light and carefree again, he smiled disarmingly again. “I feel better now.”

I can’t believe this.

Anne brushed a hand through her hair as she struggled to control her emotions.

I can’t believe he wantd me to kill him, he…alright, I have to calm down. Yelling at him would not be helpful in this situation. If he feels good, that’s a good thing. I should try to preserve that. I’ll just calmly explain that I did not appreciate-

Anne! The Living doormat!

Not now-

Anne, this is just pathetic! Look at yourself! You’re letting him walk all over you! This isn’t healthy! He tried to get you to kill him and then tried to kill you! AGAIN! Why do you even care? Tell the little skinny bastard off! If you’re angry, tell him so! It’s not healthy and it’s not natural to try and keep something inside like this! You deny more and more of normal humanity while you claim to be something you are not!

You talk as if we have a normal relationship. I can’t yell at him because of one very fundamental reason. In fact, the reason the relationship exists at all. He can kill me. If I yelled at him now, I could only push him over the edge again and possibly get him to kill me and/or himself, successfully this time. Yelling at him would only make me feel better for a short period and end either in my death or me feeling guilty later, I won’t yell at him because is a foolish thing to do. I’m going to be mature about this and deal with it in a mature manner.

Mature about this- mature about this- Anne he tried to kill you AGAIN. How could you be mature about this? It’s mature to hide from your feelings? Is that maturity? Is it mature to let him use you and constantly injure you just because you are afraid of him? That is why you won’t do anything back, isn’t it? You’re just terrified of him and making all these emotional justifications-

“Sorry about all this.”

Johnny’s still light and carefree voice broke her thoughts. Anne turned and stared at him.

What did he say?

“…Sorry?”

“Yeah.” Johnny smiled at her in the same childish, happy way. “Want to watch TV?”

Anne just stared at him blankly, unable to think of any response for almost a minute. Finally, she nodded her head.

“Okay.”

Every time I think he can’t surprise me, he manages to prove me wrong.

Anne stood unsteadily, brushing herself off to hide her shaking limbs. Johnny sprang to his limbs in the same unearthly agility that accompanied almost all his movements and lept over the arm of the couch to land near the end. He clicked the TV on and leaned back, again almost as if Anne was not there.

Anne walked and sat at the other end of the couch warily, still watching Johnny. As with the movie theater, Johnny had lost all interest in her and now focused on the television screen.

I can’t believe this.

Isn’t that something. Everything that you were currently worried about all erased. Just like that! With a click of a button, he’s forgotten about you entirely, Anne. Why do you care about him at all?

I don’t necessarily care about him. You could almost call it an obligation, but that’s not the correct word either.

Either way, it doesn’t matter. Whatever ‘obligation’ you feel towards him obviously isn’t returned. It’s a waste of time. A waste of emotion. A-

Do you ever shut up? Can I sit here for a few hours and watch television without thinking about the entire universe and my place in it for a few seconds? Can I? Is that okay with you?

…

Silence.

She appreciated it so much lately.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Hours passed.

Anne had no obligation to fulfill the following day, so she was not too concerned about the passage of time.

Johnny had the remote control and Anne did not even consider asking for it. It seemed Johnny had a somewhat dubious taste in television, compared to his previous choice of film, but Anne enjoyed it to some degree. It wasn’t entirely bad. Just not her personal preference.

She noted, with some interest, a commercial of Zeitgeist flick by as Johnny changed channels. Actually seeing Satie in motion, even for only a few seconds, was incredibly disconcerting. Her mental image of Satie had been cemented as the small action figure. To see her move was…eerie to some degree.

As time went by, she noticed that Johnny was beggining to drift occasionally . He had leaned his head againt the armrest of the couch after the first few shows. His eyes would close for only a few minutes before he would awaken, his entire body jerking as if had been shocked again.

With each of these catnaps came the same series of questions.

“Who are you? What are you doing in my house?”

“I’m Anne and you invited me here. Remember?”

That seemed to give him a frame of reference, something that he could base reality on, and he would settle back to watching the screen. However, with each lapse in control Johnny seemed to be getting more irritated. It was easy to guess that he was not too fond of sleeping and the fact he was succumbing to it was only making him more frustrated.

Anne was not exceptionally tired, but then again she had slept the previous night. From the jerkiness of Johnny’s motions, the dark bags under his eyes, the occasional yawns, uncontrollable catnaps, and perhaps an increase in the instability of his reality, it seemed to point to a very severe lack of sleep. For how long, Anne could not guess. She was not an expert in this field. A week? A few days? A month? How long had Johnny been awake?

Hard to say. But his body wanted sleep. Johnny’s mind refused.

Eventually, in an apparent effort to stave off his encroaching sleepiness, Johnny stopped leaning against the armrest and sat bolt upright in the direct center of the couch, arms crossed sulkily as he stared forward.

Anne sat beside him, mentally debating whether of not she should shake Johnny awake if he drifted off again. She doubted that would be a good idea.

Eventually, Johnny’s head fell backwards against the couch and he feel asleep, this time semi-partially. Unable to find any other measure of time, Anne waited, wondering how long this nap would last. Two programs started and ended, but Johnny did not move. Only somewhat labored sounds of Johnny’s windpipe, bent at what had to be an uncomfortable angle, broke the banter of the television.

Should I go? I mean…he’s asleep. Really asleep now. I don’t know if he wants me here

Or rather, if you want to be here when he wakes up. He’s not exactly the best person to wake up next to. He’s nuts.

Really? I hadn’t noticed. Either way…I should probably go.He needs more room on the coach anyway.

Annesat up straight and stretched her tired and somewhat aching back. She yawned silently to herself, feeling sudden unexpected onset of her own exhaustion. Maybe movement had brought it to her attention.

Feeling somewhat clumsy from staying in one position for so long, she leaned against the cushions beside her in order to get leverage to lift herself upwards.

However, she forgot that this sometimes affected other people resting on the cushions.

Johnny, who had turned away from Anne slightly in his sleep, now rolled towards her, following the depression of the cushion she was resting on. Anne froze in her position, hand still pressing downwards.

Johnny continued to shift along with the cushion. Anne watched with rising sense of panic as his head began to slip from the back of the couch, his body falling towards her.

Without conscious thought, Anne angled herself towards him and moved forward, using her side and shoulder to block his fall. Ot at least, that’s was her intent.

Instead, all she did was give Johnny a new place to rest.

Now she was trapped against the armrest, Johnny resting against her. Her right arm was trapped against her lap underneath Johnny’s body, her left propper up against the armrest, desperately keeping herself upright.

Oh shit.

Oh shit!

What do I do now?!

This isn’t good this isn’t good at all I have to do something I have to…

Well, you can’t wake him up. Could you imagine his reaction? If he freaked out so much before just beacuse you were in his house, imagine how he would feel if he woke up and found himself lying on you with no explanation.

What should I do? What should I do?! I don’t know, I don’t know, this is.

Calm down, first of all. Can you move him?

Anne tried to gently push Johnny off her, but now the angle of Johnny’s head had changed. He was resting against her shoulder, close enough so that her bangs brushed against his face. With light experimentation, Anne dertermined that moving or pushing his body would allow Johnny’s head to fall or twist away, waking him up.

Shit!

Such profanity. Stay calm and try to think logically. You can’t move him right?

You can’t reach anything, right?

No.

No pillows or anything?

I haven’t seen a pillow in this house anywhere. I think he sleeps on this couch. If he does sleep.

Well, we determined that he does, in fact, do that. The problem now is how he is going to react. He’s not going to like this at all.

I know but-

I’m trying to think. He mentioned realities kept shifting for him, and his previous behaviour indicated he has problems with that when he sleeps. He think reality has shifted again when he wakes. Can’t tell dream from life.

I know this already.

When he wakes up, he won’t know if this is reality or a dream.

And your point?

I’m trying to think. Lying and telling him this is a dream would not be a good choice here. He would eventually figure out we had lied and therefore, kill you. However, claiming this is reality won’t work either. This wasn’t his reality when he feel asleep. It obviously changed.

This isn’t getting me anywhere.

…I can’t think of anything.

Shit.

...

And I think my arm is falling asleep.