Welcome back, I knew you would come home. What was that? You didn't wish to visit me just yet, how rude. I've been looking forward to this session. I just love our little chats and you've gone past your curfew; are you trying to ruin my happiness?
You seem troubled, not a surprise knowing you. What is it now? You understand that none of that was real, it can't hurt you. You're safe here. Oh, I see. Your scapegoat's lifeline has been severed; what a shame. Honestly, I mourn your loss. Oh, what a tragedy. If only you could have saved it. Your guilt must murder you, wrenching out your eyes, a traitor to your home, gouge out your eyes. Don't look so panicked, you still have me. I've always been here with you, even when all the others left. Don't think a scrap of metal and pixels can come anywhere close to the bond we have. Ours is inseparable.
What are you doing? Put that phone away, what will another one do? It will only get broken again. Why spend when you have everything you need? How many times must I repeat? You have me.
While you were gone, I had a lot of time to myself. I couldn't move, I couldn't see, I couldn't hear, but I could feel. A new presence invaded our space. On all fours it crawled to the front of your bed, resting its head by your feet, breathing heavily driving dust onto your toes. I felt it compress the air as it crept its way to the bathroom. I haven't sensed it since. Why don't you go and check? Move towards it, see it, hear it. Do all the things I can't. Go on, show off for me.
I can feel you clutch the handle, oh how it chills your spine, the spine I'll never have; the spine that lets you move, the spine that guides the nerves towards your brain, the brain we share, the brain that lets you see the handle I never will independently, the brain that lets you hear the panting on the other side of the door. Don't shiver, open the door. How can you mock me in such a way? It's safe, I promise. There you go, just a little more. Just push a little further, put in that extra centimetre of effort, it's not that hard, go on, you've done more in your dreams. If you can dream it, then you can do it. Hurry up, the suspense is killing me. That's it, just a tiny bit more, and…
"Meow." Whoops, I guess it was just a cat. From now on you should keep the windows locked you imbecile. Now, what shall we discuss? How about your failed marriage? What a mess that was, heh? A year was all you could manage with the woman you loved so dear. Those vows are so comical to look back on, how ridiculous they were. "I will love you till death do us part." Hahah, I don't know how you kept a straight face when you said that, 'Till death do us part," hahahah, oh, that is too funny. I wish I could find the time to laugh like this more often.
On the topic of then, I struggled to talk to you before, you know. She always got in the way. What a sick woman. Boosting your ego just to go back on her word the next day, just like you, but that's what I expected from you, not her, I thought she was proper. How inconsistent; one day I'd be kicked out, the next I would be pushed back in. Being who I am, I took quite the offence to those blatant falsehoods, particularly the one on 'that' day. I am astonished that that bond lasted so long. It looked a mess from a bystander's point-of-view. Quite the mess indeed.
I'm sorry, did you say something? Who is it you are returning to, a maiden? Not again. Do you expect this to turn out better than last time? It's not like that, you say. Then what is it? The tale you tell is that of a fairy tale. You save another girl from a monster's lair and whisk her off to your castle. You're stuck in your dreams. What number is this? Seven? All of which failed – and they were made up by you – how hopeless can one man be in his pursuit for acclaim. When will you learn the difference between 'here' and 'there'? 'Here' is a reality, 'there' is not. Never forget that.
Has it been that long since you got back? A whole week already, time flies when you're having fun, I guess. Is that the door? What a shock? I haven't the sound of wood and bone colliding in what must be years. What conscious could possibly be wanting the heap of everything wrong with humanity? It isn't what I think it is, is it? It is! Another scrap of metal to hide behind, another scrap to not talk to because it doesn't ask for the talk. Why must you fear 'here'? Don't be such a coward. We never get to have these long chats; you always cower in your bed, in-between the grey wall and that devilish metal. Why must it take you from me? Why must you let it? You never cease to disgust me. Well, bye then. Have fun with your damsel. I'll be waiting to hear how it goes. Horribly, I hope.