The End

No one ever really dies. A body might pass away, as all physical things must, but something as strong as his spirit could never be broken or simply vanish from so simple an act. None of us still trapped in these cages of flesh could understand what we’ll find outside them. But our short time inside this mortal world still ties us to it, and whatever else his presence will still touch it, somehow. Even if you can’t see him in the morning, or touch him in the night, he will have already forgiven you. You could never kill him, only set him free.

Set him free? A paltry excuse when it was I who had caged him. Do you think he still enjoyed my presence in the morning? Do you think he still loved me in the night? If he could see this world I can only hope he retained the power to look away, or I have done nothing but keep him unwillingly chained to me and taken away his only hope of escape.

Do not think of yourself so highly! You know you could not have kept his strength in chains. He could have left at any time, but he chose not to. He stayed because he loved you, and love can be broken no more than spirit. He is watching you, and only hoping you can see this world yourself as he can see it now.

I see clearly! I am no mad woman, taking my orders from voices. Each day I suffered through his hate, and he through mine. Some wounds can not be healed, not even to the scars we already bore. He could not leave, and he was too weak to do what needed to be done. I knew what I was doing, and he knew it too. There was no way for either of us to continue, and nothing has changed since then.

If you knew what you were doing, you should know what you have done. Yet you seem ignorant to the consequences. Of either kind.

Don’t tell me I don’t know! I was not wrong, but what nothing is right now! You do not feel his suffering still! Every moment I can sense his pain and his hate. He is screaming now. Can you hear him? No, of course not. He is not ‘watching’ you!

He would not wish to, either way. I know you’ve done all that you can, whether you think it right or not. You’ve shown enough. You’ve both suffered enough! We can still help you, and him too.

Help me? A poor jest from you, bound in your flesh. If I can’t touch him, what more can you?

He can still see our actions, if not be touched by them. Did he wear manacles in your bedroom? He judged on what you said, to him and others, rather than any direct influence. Yesterday, that was enough. Tomorrow, it might be again.

Is that supposed to comfort? Then I will make it worse, again.

You don’t have to.

That means nothing! I have seen this scene a thousand times, in my dreams but while waking too. You follow us too, in some. The difference it makes to us is nothing, but there are others that could still escape. Leave! Leave, before the worst will come.

He would want you to live.

To what? Briefly dull the pain, if that, only to bring it back threefold later? For causing this, he would want you to die!

You can still make this better!

Fool, I have lived this enough times to know how it ends! I have lived this enough times that I can’t even know if this is the end, or before it all began! Does he watch it over too, do you think? Does he know? Leave me! Both of you, leave me!

Please, calm down. If you will make it worse, then leave the choice to someone else!

… Let it be the end.

Please, stop! We can

…

Oh God …