Visible in The 13 Kingdoms of Strawthorn del Maire | World Anvil
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Visible

Caution. Contains allusions to suicide/self harm. Read with caution at your own risk.

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I exist in a comfortable place completely alone. I always have. White noise, white light, the only variation in color or light is myself, a gray outline of arms and legs and body. I have always existed as such. The minutes or hours pass, only my thoughts to occupy my time. A long long time ago I stopped counting moments. Time has never really existed for me. Or maybe it has and I have just forgotten with nothing to mark the time. I may have existed forever, or maybe just a day. I don't know, and moreso, I don't care. I care about nothing, nothing cares about me. Until now.

I don't know why or what, but just now I felt... something. An awarness of something not me or the white existence I have always known. Something caused me to focus. In that focus the whiteness around me faded and in its place is a place I think I knew once. A darkened hallway, peeling wallpaper and a musty carpet on the floor. A naked light bulb hangs at the end, before an open doorway where yellow light exposes a room beyond with browns and yellows of indistinct objects almost coming into focus.

A figure all in shadow against the brighter light of the room beyond stops just inside the hallway. I cannot see a face but I can tell it is a middle-aged woman. I think I know her. She seems familiar somehow. I reach out toward her, attempt to great her, talk to her. A distant sound faintly reaches my ears, like the scratching of nails on a chalkboard and I realise I am the source of that sound.

The woman screams silently. I realise I hear no other sound. I watch something, a bowl, or a pot, fall from the her hands as she jerks and stumbles back into the light of the room beyond. My apparition frightens her.

The scene brightens and fades back to my all white existence. I glance down at myself and I look as I have always looked. I feel again as I have always felt. The memory fades quickly and my thoughts return again to the same repeated thoughts. "Where was I when she died? Why did I do nothing to stop myself? How did I die?" The noose around my neck keeps my feet from touching what should be a floor....

I exist in a comfortable place completely alone. I always have. White noise, white light, the only variation in color or light is myself, a gray outline of arms and legs and body. I have always existed such. The minutes or hours pass, only my thoughts to occupy my time. A long long time ago I stopped counting moments. Time has never really existed for me. Or maybe it has and I have just forgotten with nothing to mark the time. I may have existed forever, or maybe just a day. I don't know, and moreso, I don't care. I care about nothing, nothing cares about me. Until now...

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