How Many Times?

Just how many times had I repeated this scene...? The hysterical scream that echoed through the room, the bright red light that shone, jagged on the groud, the pounding of her steps...

It seems like I'll never finish this. Be stuck in an endless loop of hope then depression for the rest of my life. Why is it Ib, that everytime I repeat this scene, she gets you? You must have noticed by now how cautious I am near Mary, especially in her odd world of wax crayon.

Yet she gets you every single time. I always try to block her, to distract her, to change ALL of this, but something always happens, and... Well, Ib... You die. Every single time.

Whether it be a palette knife to the chest, or anywhere else, something always happens, as if you were never meant to survive with me... I wonder... Do you do this on purpose? Have you had enough? So much terror and horrible sights that you no longer wish to survive?

... I remember the first time I went through all of this. You took a slash of the palette knife to the back, and as if in slow motion, you fell to the ground, crimson eyes slowly closing as a loud thud was heard. Then everything happened so fast. The insane, sick laughter I heard after that, oh, I can't even explain it to you, Ib. Mary lunged at me, bloody palette knife in hand, her blonde curls flailing around wildly. In a haze, my hands were suddenly moving, and before I knew it... I'd burned down the painting.

Mary... Had turned to ashes. I hadn't wanted for it to happen... But what could I have done...? Let myself be killed...?

Before I left the 'Fabricated World', I kneeled beside your limp, lifeless figure. I cried. For god knows how long, just sitting there, shaking you gently, begging for you to wake up. But... You never did.

Now imagine going through all this emotional stress every single day. Every single time I go through this I cry. It's just... I can't bear it... Your hair splayed around you, the blood dripping in a mess of crimson, your closed eyes, never to open again... It gets me everytime. But I'll do anything to bring you back with me. Anything... So I guess it's back to the last saving point.

I hope you're ready, Ib. Because this time, we're definitely getting out of here. Together, and alive.

Sincerely, Gary