I ran from t hat deformed person in the cathe dral. I ran from them and didn't look back. Perhaps that was bad of me. Perhaps they did not wish me harm at all. But I took one look at them at felt such revulsi on, such vileness, I could not help but run. Why did I feel in th at way, like I did? I do not know. I just ran. I ran down corridors and hallways, rushing through doors, not looking where I was running, not looking at all.
And now I am lost. I cannot find my room. Once, I would have been able to turn the corner and see it; now, I can only see more empty buildings, m ore flickering streetlights, more dark alleyways that seem to conv ey danger. I don't know why, but this place, this city doesn't feel like it used to feel. It doesn't feel safe anymore. It doesn't feel right. It feels...
I cannot des cribe how it is making me feel. This place, this city. Everyw here I turn now, it seems like it is turning me away, pushing me a way. I have seen no more department stores, no more Italian rest aurants, no more movie theaters. No more life. Just dark buildings, their edges as sharp as blades, their windows opaque, their doors firmly shut and locked.
Is this my fault? Or did A do something? When they killed their monster, did that change the city some how? Or does it simply respond to my own emotions? When I was hungry, it led me to a restaurant. When I panicked, it became a place of panic, a place of blind fear. If I calm my self down, will it turn back into a place that feels exciting? Will I find my room then? Or will I just wander this city forever, searching for something that no longer exists? What am I doing? What am I going to do? -- Sam Norton.