>Do you think they can still hear you.
>It's been quiet far too long. You've thought about it.
>The room. The closet. What is beneath clothes and dust. The ticking clock of the tower that booms with each hour chime.
>You can't remember their face. But its yours.
>Her body is still there.
>No. You stole her face. You stole her face. Her life.
>Rotting.
>You killed her.
>She's looking at you.
>You can't remember her face.
>She's saying something.
>You cut your hair and stole her clothes, you stitched together something, an identity.
>She starts crawling, screaming your name. Her name.
>You were scared. You were scared!
>She grabs your legs pulling herself up.
>No.
>She's trying to drag you to her grave. Your grave. The one all of you share.
>You were just scared.
>Another chime.
>You wake up, you're safe. You're in your room and you keep it clean of dust. Of rot. You turn to stare at the clock.
>It reads the time. Its Six.
