He
felt exhausted.
Last
night he had injured a classmate during self-defense training.
This
morning the sun was red. Crows lined the road on his drive into the
office.
He
had yelled at people he was trying to help. He was stuck on a level
of the videogame he had been playing. He could only lie to his
co-workers and his friends and tell them everything was fine.
Last
night he dreamed of killing a man named Morganfokker and of a great
feeling of change and relief coming over him, but in the morning the
dream made him feel uneasy and scared.
Alison
was dead and no one seemed to care. His cellphone would ring and he
would answer it and hear only static.
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