WOO! HERE WE GO! Its got a sort of Memento mentality, if you've seen that movie. The beginning's a bit angsty. But I'm sure you can take it. IT'S CHOCK FULL OF CRUEL IRONY!!! A bit violent, but I'm sure you can handle it. PLEASE! FOR THE LOVE OF JHONEN, READ AND REVIEW! –Muffins Magee.

DISCLAIMER: This stuffs not mine. This story is, but Dib's not, Zim's not, Membrane's not, Gaz's not, you get the idea. All that good stuff belongs to my lord and slave-master Jhonen Vasquez. What would my life be like without you, JV… it would be frighteningly zimless! AAAAHHHHH! (I'm contemplating a jhonenless life.) AAAHHHHH!!!!!!

It begins…

Blood, Rain, and Violet Hair

One wall… one collage of images… all blurry. So very blurry. Slurred together into a soup of colors. No words were legible, no pictures were clear. Everything… out of focus…

Dib stared at the pictures pinned up to the wall of his room. His glasses lay on the nightstand to his left. He was almost blind without them, but he didn't want to put them back on—they made him feel claustrophobic. Trapped in himself, and dependent. He gazed up at his bulletin board at all the pictures he loved. Photos of crop circles, pictures of UFOs taken by satellites, shots from the robots on mars. He knew what was posted up there, though he couldn't make them out now. It was like looking through two layers of frosted glass. It almost looked beautiful that way, when you couldn't see the details. A closer look into those photos and you could see the conspiracies, but this way it was one delightful mélange of the purples and blues and blacks of deep space…

It was like staring at a picture of earth from space--So beautiful--But look closely, and you'd see all the people within. Blind, heartless, ignorant people… like cracks in the world. He hated them. He despised them. They didn't listen. Somewhere, in the deepest reaches of his mind, he almost wanted to see them die at the hands of Zim.

No. He wouldn't think like that. He shook his head, running his pale fingers through his hair, which was damp with cold sweat. He felt ill. He wasn't sick, not physically anyway. Dib pulled his knees up toward his chest and leaned on them, thinking. About what? About everything. All the things he loved. His obsessions. He had made them his life, and now what did he have? A blur. Nothing. Nothing was clear. He had to build his own foundation, and so he built it on aliens, conspiracies, dreams of his own fame. And now he lay there, realizing how pathetic that was, how he'd let his obsessions eat him alive. He WAS his obsessions now. That was all left in his life. He felt an emptiness that penetrated to his soul. He had no core anymore. He had no base. And so he was nothing.

His family was nothing. Gaz would probably be happy to watch him die. And his father barely knew he was alive in the first place. Where was the Professor now? Down in his lab. Yes… his "father…" what defines a father? Biologically, yes, Membrane was Dib's father. But in no other way. Dib felt more like a roommate, some tiny person who happened to live with this world renowned scientist.

And what about his mother? DID he have a mother? Dib couldn't remember her. Dib could remember asking the professor, but he never remembered a straight answer. Perhaps he was a test tube baby. Perhaps Gaz was too. But no… why would Membrane create children? He certainly wasn't prepared to take care of them.

Dib's mind raced. He didn't want to be thinking about all that. He tried to clear his head, to achieve some sort of mind-silence. He focused on emptiness, which just made him feel emptier. He could hear ringing in his ears. He tried to keep it, so it would drown out his other thoughts… but a flash of lighting momentarily lit up the barely visible room, breaking his concentration. It was followed by rolling thunder that shook the floor. Dib reached over and grabbed his glasses, sliding them onto his head. The room came clear again. All the details stood out on his wall, like imperfections. He winced at it and looked away. He moved over to his window, and looked out to the dark sky. Lighting flashed across it again, illuminating the billowing, ominous clouds. Dib crawled out of his window and onto the roof. He had to get his satellite equiptment off the roof before it started to rain. He walked over and grabbed up his stuff, dragging it over toward the window and pulling it back inside. He liked this. It was a distraction. He didn't want to sit inside and ponder anymore. He stepped back over to the window and climbed out again. He stepped out onto the roof, and sat down, curled up over his knees again, watching the sky. He couldn't see the stars. Not the stars, not the moon, not anything. He liked that too. He felt the first raindrop hit his shoulder. It was a warm night, and the rain felt nice. Dib pulled off his leather trench coat, and took off his glasses, and put them in a bunched up heap beside him, embracing the rain. It was coming down harder now. It fell against his face and his body, cold in contrast to the warm air. It felt nice. And that's all that filled his head at that moment. His head voices had ceased, and all he thought of was the rain. Lightning flashed. Thunder cracked. The cold rain sent shivers up Dib's spine, and the noise made him jump, but he liked being startled. More distractions. That's all he needed. Distractions. He closed his eyes and looked up into the rain, and he stayed out there. He'd listen to the rain slam against the roof—it would bounce back upward and hit him—it felt like it was falling down and up and coming at him from all directions. Like it was all getting pulled toward him.

He stayed out there for a long time, until his indifferent-face shirt was soaked through and his boots were filled to the brim with water. By then he'd had enough. He'd go inside. He'd go downstairs, get something to drink, and then perhaps get sleep. The first sleep he'd had in a long time. His mind was clearer than it had been in months. He picked up his soaked trench coat and his glasses, walked forward, and jumped off the roof.

Ssshhhhhhyyyyyyyyytssss…. He gripped the drainpipe and fell downward, listening to the sound of his hand sliding against the cold steel. He turned himself to the side to jump in through the window, and was suddenly struck with the horrifying realization that it would be shut. He reached out desperately and gripped the sill. He hung, one hand on the pipe and one clutching the window sill, and then held tight as he let go from the pipe and pulled the window open from the outside, climbing in. He stepped into the empty sink. He wrung out his clothing into the drain, and then stepped out after he was dry enough not to leave a pool of water wherever he walked. He stepped down out of the sink, took his glasses and slid them back on, and turned toward the rest of the kitchen, and then his heart jumped---there was someone sitting at the table---his father, Professor Membrane. He thought the room was empty. It was completely silent. The Professor was sitting, pondering, not making a sound. He looked as if he didn't even know that Dib was there. Not really wanting to confront his father, Dib was thinking about tiptoeing back to his room… he just turning toward the doorway to the living room when Membrane spoke.

"What were you doing out there, son? On the roof, again?"

Dib didn't feel like answering. He stayed silent. He didn't want to converse. He was happy with his mind blank as it was. Nothing new should fill it.

"Why were you out on a night like this…" Membrane said. His voice sounded strange. Like some emotion was behind it. This made something in Dib snap. He'd never heard that kind of speech come out of his father, there was a hint of pain. And Dib was reminded of pain again. He resented his father, as some of his previous thoughts of that night flooded back.

"I wasn't doing anything. Just listening to the rain. Why aren't you working? You're ALWAYS working…"

"I can't work. Not on a night like this."

"But you work every night."

"Shhjjjshhhjjjt… son… I'm reminiscing."

"Fine." Dib was silent. But then he couldn't stand but ask. "What about?" Then, with resentment… "'Real' science?"

"…No." There was a long, long silence, and just as Dib was thinking of getting up and backing away, he continued… "…I'm thinking about… your mother."

WHACK. It was like a blow to the head from a cro bar. Suddenly Dib's mind was racing again. He couldn't control it. There were so many questions. His head was pounding, and he was speechless. What to say… his dad was actually talking mom… Dib thought a thousand things but said nothing. Fortunately, (or perhaps unfortunately, Dib wasn't sure which …) Membrane continued.

"It was a night like this… just like this… that she was killed."

Killed. Killed. The words were ringing in Dib's ears. He just stood there wide eyed. He realized that he knew nothing about his mother. Nothing… Dib could barely form his words… but he managed to say…

"…How…"

Membrane didn't look at Dib. He hadn't looked at Dib through all of this. His eyes, or his glasses at least, were fixed on some point on the kitchen wall, and he stared straight ahead, leaning forward on his hands.

"I do not know. How could I not know? I am Professor Membrane, I single handedly keep the world from falling into chaos! I invented super toast! If I can't find an answer, than there IS no logical, or scientific explanation for her death. There is no explanation."

AN UNSOLVED MYSTERY! Dib was livid! First of all, this was his mother's death, second of all, it was an unsolved murder… his head hurt like crazy. Why had he not known of this before? This… this Dib could possibly solve! His father was closed minded… but he… the evidence, what was the evidence… Dib had to know. But how to ask without making his dad think he was crazy? He didn't ask… he hoped his father would just continue. And Membrane did continue. He lifted his head off his hands, but his eyes stayed fixed on the wall. A blank stare? Dib couldn't tell through Membrane's goggles. As Membrane continued, he kept gesturing with his hands, gesturing as he always did, only now it seemed to be less for emphasis, and more because he couldn't find the right words.

"Knife wounds. She had been kneeling in the kitchen when someone attacked her. When I found her, she was on the floor of the kitchen, drenched in her own blood. But there was no knife. No weapon or sign of a weapon. And no sign of a break in. Our house has the top technology in its security, engineered by myself! It is foolproof! No one has technology superior to mine—no one could break through my system. How could anyone have gotten inside?"

Dib's mind was whirling as he sucked this in. There was no way he'd sleep after this… Membrane spoke on. His rubber gloves made a subtle kyyykk sound when he kept clenching his fists…

"How. HOW… I did gel electrophoresis… I studied DNA in samples of skin cells in the room, of strands of hair. I found nothing. How could someone have covered their tracks so well… I've pondered it."

Dib had that look. That wide-eyed-awe-struck-leaning forward in anticipation-shocked look. Ideas were brewing in his head and percolating like really really really caffeinated coffee which was reaching boiling hot temperatures inside his mind. He was having inklings… for lack of a better word. But 'inklings' sounds all cutesy and small, these were the big, momentous sort of inklings. INKLINGS OF DOOM.

"DID YOU SEE HIM?! Did you even catch a GLIMPSE of what he looked like?!"

"I did catch a glimpse. I came down in the middle of the night. I heard sounds downstairs. As I walked down the stairs I could have sworn I saw him, just a silhouette disappearing into the shadows. I had no time to follow him, I had to tend to your mother…"

"THE SILHOUETTE… was it…" Dib had to ask, even though he knew it would sound weird… "…was it… short…?"

Membrane continued staring forward. He paused, deep in thought, and then after a moment, hesitantly said… "Yes… I believe it was…"

SLAM. That slam is the sound of a puzzle piece being whammed down into place thusly completing the entire jigsaw picture, if you had a tiny yet powerful microphone right next to the spot the piece was placed in. That's the SLAM that happened in Dib's head. He had it, and he couldn't contain it. Rage welled up inside him as he came to a realization.

"ZIM!!! ZIM!!! IT MUST HAVE BEEN!!! THE ALIENS!!! IT WAS THE IRKEN—HIS PLAN FOR DOMINATION---HE WAS TRYING TO GET MEEEE! THAT DAMNED ALIEN!!! THAT----DAMNED---"

Membrane, for the first time, looked over to Dib, who was now standing on one of the chairs with his eyes wide and his pupils little triangles of shock and madness and pain. As he spoke, Dib would reach his hand palm up, fingers tensed, and shake it back and forth, as if trying to grab an answer out of the air… Membrane suddenly stood. He looked down at his son, and Dib stared upward at him. Dib stopped yelling, and looked up at his father. Though he couldn't see past the goggles or the lab coat, he could tell the professor was demeaning him. His father had reverted back. Whatever train of thought he had been in, he had just lost it.

"There ARE no aliens, son. There ARE no—"

"Look, DAD! I know you think I'm crazy, but—"

"SSHHJJJSHJJJYTT… quiet son, and listen to reason. Those aliens are demented hallucinations… whatever proof you claim you have are products of you insane mind."

"No, NO, you have to listen!" Dib pleaded…

"REAL science, son…. Try it…"

There was no emotion behind Membrane's voice anymore. He was back to his normal self. Before, Dib could hear it in his tone, compassion, but now it was his own TV scientist, game-show-host like voice again. Like he was narrating for something, like he was being filmed and had to speak loudly and clearly and be rational. Dib's new thoughts coarsed through his head, and his whole body. His thoughts seemed to run through his blood, and every part of him felt this new passion for finding the truth… he understood now. Dib turned, coldly, from his father. He ran his fingers though his hair in frustration, which was much dryer than it had been and was pointing upward and back again. He ran up the stairs, and toward his room… threw the door open ran inside, flinging off his glasses and dropping his trench coat to the ground. He slammed himself down on the bed, face first, his hand reaching up and clenching fistfuls of his blanket. He wanted to tear it apart. He understood it all now. It was Zim. Zim. How could he have not seen it before. Zim was responsible for so much of Dib's agony, and now this too.

Irken technology—that's how he got through the security system—he could use those alien gadgets to hack. He wears boots, he wears gloves, he has no hair, only antennas… his DNA and fingerprints would be nowhere. And why would he use a knife? Simple---it would look odd for someone to end up on an autopsy table with a hole from a lazer beam on their body. That would arouse suspicion. So he used a knife. It made sense. He could have destroyed his evidence the same way he evaporated Dib's alien sleep ducts, used one of his gnome's beams on the weapon. And how could he have been there, that long ago, on earth, when he only showed up on the planet a couple years ago? Time travel. Its possible alright, after all, Professor Membrane has his own temporal field he's created for time travel with objects… Irkens must have something along those lines as well. And then the next question—why? He was coming after Dib, of course. Dib had run this through his mind, and the more he thought of it, the more it seemed to work. Zim has a bad sense of direction. A bad sense of timing. Zim isn't very intelligent. He probably wanted to come back earlier, to kill Dib's mother so that Dib could never be born. He must have gotten the year wrong. Dib must have been born already, and Gaz too, when it happened. Zim showed up, killed Dib's mother, and then left to go back into the present, thinking his task was completed and his obstacle removed. And of course, the one thing that gave it away… the intruder was short. His father had said it himself. That was the final clue that made the whole puzzle fit.

'Its all so obvious…' Dib thought to himself. 'He came back to stop me from being born, but he was too late. All he did was kill my mother… Zim killed my mother… Zim…'

Dib pushed his head deeper into his bed. It was like he wanted the blankets to muffle his thoughts. He just wanted to run outside, to run to Zim's house, to pull him out in the rain, and hold him there. Hold Zim in the rain until all his green skin just burned off, evaporated into white smoke, and then throw him into a puddle and watch him writhe in pain until he died.

He didn't even remember his mother. Didn't even remember her. Maybe she could have understood him. No one understood him. Maybe she would have been his foundation, maybe she could have given his life meaning, showed him his real path. Because the one he was on now couldn't be the right one. Not if it meant this kind of pain. Dib wanted revenge… but more than anything he just wanted it all to be fixed… he wanted his mother back. He wanted it to have not happened. He wanted to go back and sto—

*GASP*… Dib pulled his head up from his covers, realizing that he hadn't breathed in since he'd thrust himself into the bed. More thoughts, more ideas, pulsed through him. He couldn't control his head noise. It drowned out everything, the rain, the thunder. He knew what he could do--- he wanted to go back and stop it. Stop Zim. He could save his mother. He knew the answer. The TEMPORAL OBJECT DISPLACEMENT DEVICE… he could go through it, go through into the past. He'd just have to program it to the night it happened, he wasn't sure what night but he could find it, a stormy night like this… and he'd try and walk through it himself. If it could transport a giant squid, it could transport Dib… (yes, Dib had seen that 'Walter Chunky' episode of his father's show… and had strange visions… involving piggies…that lingered somewhere in the depths of his mind, like a shadow of a memory… it all had to do with the temporal field.)

"I'LL DO IT…." Dib said, aloud… his words echoed dramatically off the walls of his bedroom. "I'LL GO BACK AND—"

"SANE PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!" Dib heard from the room next to his. It was Gaz—yelling virulently and pounding on the wall of her bedroom to try and get Dib to be quiet… Dib grew silent. He didn't want to invoke her wrath. Not now—he had important things to do. He silently stood from his bed, thinking hard, trying to concentrate fully on the task ahead. He plotted it out in his mind, pushing down his seething emotions and trying to keep them suppressed—he had to focus. He'd go down into his father's lab. That was step one.

Dib walked slowly and quietly out from his room, and then into the hallway—down the stairs, onto the first floor… he glanced over into the kitchen to see of the Professor was still there. He wasn't. He must have gone to bed. Dib walked over to the door to his father's in-home laboratory. Pushing a button, a small machine came down to his level, suspended by a supple metal cord which wound itself out of a tangle of wires and devices. ,The machine took a retinal scan. Dib held his eye open as bright red light passed across it. It recognized Dib's eye, and a computer screen on its side read 'Dib Membrane—Access Granted." The door slid open abruptly, smoke dramatically billowing out of it. Dib walked inside of the lab—cautiously, though he had been inside it many times before. It was freezing cold inside, compared to the rest of the house. It was dark, but Dib could faintly see, and he didn't want to turn on the lights, or do anything that might be recorded into the lab's data base—there should be no sign he was here. Dib walked forward, passed big, imposing machines and computers and experiments. As he looked for the time travel portal, which he knew was stored down here somewhere, he caught sight of something else. He spotted it because of its contrast—something white against all the steel machines, which, in the dim light shining in through the door, seemed to almost glow. It was out of place, something soft amidst the sharp and cold metal devices that were scattered in the lab. He walked to it, and saw that it was a book, laying open on top of one of the cold metal surfaces. It had notes written all through it. Dib found it hard to believe that his father would be one to record anything down on paper, not when he could just record his own voice, or type into a computer, but there was something with the notes, taped in. Pieces of hair, samples of blood, copies of fingerprints and DNA test results—evidence from a crime scene—photographs that made Dib wince and look away… gory, detailed descriptions scribbled down. Dib understood—his father had been looking back at the evidence from that night. One thing caught Dib's eye amidst the contence of the page. He put his hand over the photographs so he wouldn't have to see them, and stared down at the evidence put into the scrapbook. There were several pieces of hair taped in. Most of them were black, obviously the Professor's, though it was clear that some tests were run to make positively sure they weren't from the intruder. But there were a few other colored strands in there as well--violet strands of hair, not like Gaz's, but lighter, bluer. There were only a few, but they were long and wavy, and though, Dib assumed, they'd probably been taped down into that book for years and years, the strands shone in the light seeping in through the door from the rest of the house, glinting. It looked alive. Dib almost recognized it… like something in the back of his being that he'd forgotten, and he knew, he KNEW it must have once been a part of his mother. He leaned forward over the book, holding his arm totally straight with his shoulder thrust back, like he wanted to push away the steel machine the book was resting on. He gripped the metal surface tightly, trying to fight whatever reaction was coming. Then he noticed something else… on the top of the page, amidst other information, a date. THE date. The exact time of her murder! Perfect! It only took a second for Dib to memorize the date, the time. He pushed himself up and off the machine and away from the book, and with a new found energy started searching for the temporal displacement device. He could actually do this. He could save his mom.

THERE! There it was, in the corner! A device to generate a temporal field within its metal rim—to pass through is to move back in time… Dib hurried over to it. He glanced around, trying to remember how the controls work, his glasses sliding down his nose till he reached up and pushed them back into place. He ran fingers through his spiked black hair as he pondered it hastily… before long he had figured it out. He pushed a few buttons on the machine, and then jumped back in shock as the field was activated—the inside of the rim was now a swirl of colors… that was it, he activated it! Onward to victory! Dib plugged in the date and time and saw it, the house, in the past. He activated something to allow him to return a few minutes after he had arrived—how else would he be able to get back… Dib stared at the screen depicting the past. It was the lab, but far emptier… the lab from many years ago. Dib hesitated for a second… not sure what would happen if a person tried to go through the displacement device… but this was something he had to do… he clenched his eyes tightly shut and leapt through the portal.

ZZZZYYYYYYTTTTT… when Dib cautiously opened his eyes, he was in the lab. But it looked different. It was darker. Dib could feel his pupils growing larger as his eyes began to adjust… no lights were on in the house, no illumination came from the entrance to the lab, it was pitch black. It had worked—Dib was alive, and back in time… it was just before Zim would attack. He had time to stop him! Dib stumbled toward the door, or where he knew the door would be. He could hear faint sounds, the rapping of raindrops against the house and a clap of thunder… it was a night much like the one he had just left… Dib carefully felt around, making his way through the darkness and to the doorway. His feet found the stairway, and he ran swiftly and silently up them. He reached the door and opened it carefully, making sure it didn't creak.

CRACK! The thunder sounded as lightning split through the sky outside. As Dib immerged from the lab he saw the kitchen momentarily light up but then go pitch black again just as quickly. Rain was pounding on the house mercilessly. Dib was beginning to feel extremely paranoid. He had this soup of emotions inside him, more kept being added… he felt like a bottle of soda when its being shaken and shaken and shaken, like his whole being would just explode from the tension being built up within, or perhaps implode on itself into nothing. He left the lab door open, and stepped out from behind it… peering around… the darkness was ominous… threatening… and the hammering of the rain wasn't helping his nerves… He tried to listen, to filter out the sound of the storm, to listen for Zim. That little alien had to be in the house by now… he had to be lurking. Dib had to stop him. Suddenly, Dib heard a sound… one he didn't think was coming from the pouring rain outside… a shuffling sound… quiet, but close… and then Dib remembered what his father had said. The kitchen… he slowly made his way to the kitchen… the shuffling sound, though still extremely faint, seemed closer. Zim was already in there…. Dib inched to the doorway and peered inside, though nothing was visible in the shadows. But Dib knew… he knew it must be Zim… waiting… just waiting for Dib's mother to come down the stairs… where though… Dib could hear a noise, a faint noise, but he couldn't see anything, or tell exactly where the sound was coming from. Dib inched closer, trying to stay silent, but as he did the shuffling sound abruptly stopped. Had Zim heard him? Dib froze… paralyzed with confusion and fear. The rain kept pummeling the house… Dib's heart was beating fast and loud, and began to ring in his ears… when suddenly…

CRACK!!! Another bolt of lightning darted across the black clouds, and for a split second the room was lit! And Dib saw it! A figure in the corner of the room! Illuminated for only a second, but Dib saw it—he knew where it was---he had to do something! Zim was standing in that very room with him, moments away from murdering his mother… and then a thought hit Dib. Hit him hard. Dib felt like his soul had just been knocked down into his boots---he realized he had no plan. What was he going to do?! He was just going to 'stop' Zim? And just HOW was he going to do that?!?! How was he going to prevent his mother's murder? He had no idea whatsoever… all he knew was that Zim would be wielding a weapon, and somehow Dib had to stop him before…

Dib suddenly heard something from upstairs… footsteps… no… she must be coming down… and Zim would be right there to meet her!!! Dib was suddenly desperate. How would he do this?!? And then a thought struck him… do away with Zim. Kill the Irken bastard then and there. It wouldn't be an alien autopsy, it wouldn't bring Dib fame on Mysterious Mysteries, but it would save his mother and it would save the earth! Dib had to do it! Dib's mind raced… how… he had no weapon. He heard more footsteps. Getting closer… closer… NO CHOICE! HAD TO ACT NOW! Dib bolted forward, reaching out toward the countertop and grabbing the first thing to reach his hand… whatever it was, it was Dib's weapon now… the room seemed to blur together and the rain pounded out a rhythm like a movie score in the backdrop… Dib couldn't see but he knew where Zim was standing… he reached the corner of the room and jabbed his weapon into Zim. He shut his eyes, even though he couldn't see anyway… he couldn't stand himself while he was doing it, despite all his hatred for the alien…

"OH-UUHHHNnnnnnnn…." Was all the sound Dib heard as he pushed his weapon in further… wherever he had hit Zim, he had definitely succeeded, the alien hadn't even had time to yell out… Dib felt a rush of loathing for Zim, of loathing for himself… he could feel blood all over his hands now, it felt freezing cold against his skin… the footsteps grew louder… Dib pulled his weapon out and thrust it in again and again… until he was sure there was no chance Zim could still be alive… then he pulled his bloody tool from the body. He could hear a person at the top of the stairs now… his mother? She would be safe… as for Zim… no time to deal with him… Dib had to get back to his own time… had to get to the lab so whatever he had replaced could return correctly…

CRACK… lightning streaked across the sky as Dib ran back into the darkness toward the lab… as he quietly ran he could hear loud footsteps descending the stairs… Had his mother seen him? He wasn't sure… but it couldn't have been a good look at him…hopefully not… to see her own son many years from then, she might suffer future shock…

Dib dashed through the open door and into the pitch black laboratory… as he stumbled to the point where he appeared, a flash of swirling colors and light engulfed him, and then ZZZOOOOOOOCCCCHHHHH… suddenly he found himself back… back in the lab of the present. His plan had worked… HIS PLAN HAD WORKED! The rain of the present was beating on the house of the present, Dib was back in his natural time again!! His hands…. His hands were covered in glistening, deep red blood, and he still clutched his weapon… tighter than anything, he seemed unable to let go.. his mind was speeding in circles, trying to take in what he had done. Zim is dead. ZIM IS DEAD… THE WORLD IS SAVED! His mother… his mother was never killed! Now Dib would know her… would grow up with a mo—wait… wait. Something struck Dib then. His mother. He would now have grown up with his mother. But Dib thought to himself. He had no memories of her… he couldn't recall what she looked like… if he had prevented her death, than shouldn't he remember growing up with her in his life…? Dib was so confused… he glanced desperately around… at the dimly lit laboratory… and then he saw, on top of the cold steel machine, the white scrapbook he had been looking at before. It was still there… but… but… that didn't make any sense… it never happened… and then something dawned on Dib. It was like everything inside him pulled together into a giant Gordian knot… Dib gazed down at his gore covered hands… at the weapon he still clutched tightly—a simple kitchen knife… and then he saw… entangled around his weapon, and another amidst the blood… several strands of …gleaming… violet… hair….

Authors note:

COOL, NO?!?! THINK ABOUT IT, PEOPLE! THIIINK! You can read it over again, and it will make even more sense, just like that movie Memento (if you haven't seen it and you liked this, then SEE IT. And when you do, think of ME! MUFFINS MAGEE! It's the coolest film. POWAH TO INDEPENDENT MOVIES!) I'm thinking of continuing this plot, perhaps, not sure how I could though but I'm having inklings… inklings of doom. REVIEW!! IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND RIGHT IN THIS WORLD, REVIIIEW! ^_^ thanks in advance.