It's 10:29 PM.
Jay stares at the wall.
He thinks about Alex and him and way back when
(it wasn't that long ago but it sure feels like it)
when things
were
simple
(maybe they weren't actually simple but it sure feels like it)
when there was no Operator or cameras
(besides the one they used to shoot Marble Hornets anyway)
or anything really. It was just him and Alex and the Marble Hornets crew. Before that there was college. There were classes. There were things besides old tapes and running away and staying in hotel after hotel because your apartment burned down and there's just nowhere else to go.
It's 11:45 PM.
Jay stares at his laptop.
He opens it and then closes it again. There are some files there, old tapes long left to rot on the desktop, too
fragmented and distorted
for him to make sense of
and he doesn't have to energy to bother to.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind
he wonders about Jessica.
andBrianandSethandAmy
and whatever happened to them
and how maybe the answer still lies in the raw
(empty)
corrupt
(useless)
footage on the tapes.
Maybe the answers are there somewhere and he just hasn't looked hard enough.
Or maybe there aren't any answers and they're all gone like Alex said
(why does he still blindly trust what Alex said)
((because he's scared that maybe he was right))
(or something)
lost
maybe It took them
to where, he couldn't say
he didn't want to think about it
It's past midnight.
Jay stares at the TV.
He doesn't remember turning it on but things he can't remember happening don't bother him anymore.
He watches the people talk, their too-bright, too-pixelated faces flickering across the screen. The volume is off. He can't hear them.
He couldn't hear Alex
Alex was screaming
(in the tape)
((in his dream))
Alex was saying something important
Alex didn't have eyes
(in the tape)
((no, in his dream, it was in the dream))
(no he had eyes of course he had eyes, at least last Jay checked, but it was getting hard to tell what was real and what wasn't)
It's 2:58 AM.
Jay stares at the wall again.
The wallpaper isn't all that interesting – just generic, mottled, dull brown.
Why was it that all hotels had the exact same wallpaper and the exact same carpeting and the exact same cheap flat-screen?
Tim calls.
It's time to leave.
(again)
It's always time to leave
All anyone ever does now is leave
(and die)
((and disappear))
((without saying a word))
It's 3:42 AM.
There's knocking.
It's Tim.
It's time to leave.
(again)
So Jay leaves.
(again)