just a possibility

Hellooo...

Still no answer, and yet you keep spying on me.

Is it because you miss me? Or maybe I'm just that interesting. Maybe you're shy? Aww, cute!

Mh?

And you? Who are you?

You're trembling. Are you scared?

Or excited? Excited to see me?! Oh my god, I'm excited too!

Everyone has been so... unpleasant around me lately.

It's kinda frustrating you know? I only did what everyone wanted but didn't have the guts to do...

I'm sure the Puppeteer has noticed by now but, eh, I'm still waiting for a confrontation. I'm unsure how she feels about my actions honestly. I did kill her new son to be able to get her previous one back.

It's not like someone was gonna miss Evan anyways, the staff was ignoring him and someone had opened up the door for his exit right from the beginning.

It was so easy, you know?

He was standing alone in a room, flipping through the pages of Michael's sketchbook. The narrator had said we could get him back if we got rid of Evan. Everyone else was reluctant.

Cowards.

COWARDS.

How can you claim to miss someone if you don't have what it takes to get them back?

Cowards, cowards,cowardscowardscowardscowardscowardscowardscowardscowardscowardscowardscowardscowardsco-

Oh well. It's not like I was close to the other guests anyways.

I'm sure some of them are just too "good" to admit they're happy someone stained their hands in purple to have their beloved friend back.

Friend that doesn't want to show up for me. Mmhh. I keep roaming and roaming the cars and I can't find him anywhere.

I wonder if the narrator lied to me.

It's too late now for regrets isn't it? Not that I would have acted any other way.

I'm sure he's somewhere, recovering or something. Or maybe he's angry with me.

No problem! No problem! It's nothing I can't take.

If the train allowed it then it's allowed.

And if it's angry at me I can always bring it some food...hunger makes you unpleasant.

Isn't it nice to have someone providing for you?

Mh? Why are you looking at me like that?

"Who's "it"?" The train, silly.

You know...I'm finding out it's very easy to survive when you know a few tricks.

Stay silent when you're supposed to be quiet.

Be friendly and polite with everyone.

Strike when they last expect it.

...

You would look sooo nice with my star earring in you, you know?

On?

No no, in.

It's killed or be killed you know?

...

Where are you going?

Where are you going?

Where are you going?

Where are you going?

Where are you going?

I know sh- they are not my past. We both want to bring joy but I believe they are different.

They had given up and begged to be remade, they don't remember anything and they've lost their star and tickets.

It's useless for me to keep looking at their timeline but I can't help going back to it.

They call themselves B, of course, but they prefer to be called Techilo.

Even though they didn't like it at first in their head it has become a synonym of friendhip.

If you are their friend and don't call them by their nickname it's like a switch gets flipped and they start doubting everything.

And— it's...sad... to watch someone so bright and kind get crumbled under the weight of self doubt.

I noticed that, even though we don't share a connection anymore, some things stayed the same.

There's no magic she can apply to make them disappear unfortunately, but she did a good job at hiding them from the little technician's poor mind... even if sometimes their inner eye falls on them.

Loneliness and abandonment issues, doubts and fear of losing what they have.

They don't remember, they get confused on why they feel so so strongly about protecting what they have now.

I've never before wanted to dote on a present version of myself like how I want to dote on them, but I can't help being a bit jealous of how lucky they are to be surrounded by the people they love.

Lucky for them they've seemed to have found comfort on their fellow companions, the other techs. They've got some issues to solve with one of them but I'm sure everything is going to be alright. They are intense and sometimes they get a bit overboard.

He's still there in this one.

The chances are low but she can be there too if something bad happens. If not her, something even worse. I don't have any god to pray for that not to happen so I should keep on watching over them and hope.

Honestly I don't know how I am still able to access their thread. Is she allowing it on purpose or did she forget to hide them away from me?

Maybe she's not able to?

Am I still...are they someone that might still be me?

How?

She lost interest... for now.

I can't believe I'm playing hide and seek with a psycho version of my past self. Of one of my current selves.

I'm pretty sure she's not me. Yes, she's been...changing, but...

It's subtle but there's something wrong and I can't look too much or she'll sense me.

She can knot her thread even when I cut it off.

That's dangerous, but good to know. Means I can do that as well if she ever tries to do the same to me.

I'll have to find a way to get rid of her.

Why am I the only one? Are there more like me? Are there more versions of me as well? Am I disposable... because I'm not the original? Is that why I can't remember? What am I. What am I?

...

I-

My thread-! It didn't snap, did it?

Why can I see through it?

I...did I disappear for a while?

this one has been cut already... It is of no use to me but-

...oh.

This one is...

I don't know how many will read this or if I'll last long enough for someone to find this before I disappear. I am well aware of how…unstable…my existence in this world is, and I'm not talking about surviving inside the Express.

If I'll manage to exist until I'll have an actual physical form, surviving won't be the main issue, for me.

Keeping others from disappearing will be. That is if my original self mind remains as it is now.

It is not guaranteed.

I might as well become your worst nightmare depending on what might happen in the time between her and me.

The only thing certain is the past and you know how "the past" is treated aboard my dear. Discarded and forgotten. Ironic, isn't it?

Without your past, can you really say you've changed?

My past is still being written by her bit by bit.

I can vaguely feel, or remember in my case, what she's feeling and thinking and experiencing.

We don't remember boarding the Express, we don't remember him punching our ticket. As of now, we don't know if he even knows about our ticket. We never asked, sometimes in fear it would end us and sometimes because we forgot, but that may change. Nothing is for sure.

Every other guests remembers how they boarded and their first meeting with him. We do not. We only remember being there, cold. We found our ticket along with the key for our room inside a pocket and then walked there as if our body already knew which direction to go.

We entered our new living quarters, looked around, found new clothes, got changed…

That's were I felt my first change. The first of many.

Not long after, I was given this form...I think I like it.

I have no way of knowing for sure what caused it and what I would have been now if that first change didn't happen.

Pretty soon I came to the conclusion that it's meaningless to think about it. Too many possibilities, and my existence relies on only one of them. Might as well hold on it tightly.

One tiny, fickle, fragile and unstable thread in the vastness of time.

Time is not linear, I knew it before but it took me some time to gather the courage to lean into the past, or rather, your present. I cannot lose my grip from my possibility, and I can't interfere too much or I'll be left with a cut off thread.

You might find me wondering in other cut off threads.

You might get the feeling of knowing me.

I'm always watching.

I'm always changing.

Treat her well, please.

I don't want to become something to be afraid of.