He couldn't remember.

He couldn't remember much of anything, not anymore. Alex remembered his own name, whispering it to himself, or perhaps not only to himself. It was always so hard to tell. The enormity of the woods around him swallowed up his voice, and Alex wasn't sure he had spoken at all. He didn't remember. It didn't matter.

The trees looked exactly the same, continuing on endlessly, as far as Alex could tell. He had been here before, but then again, maybe he hadn't. If he closed his eyes, really dug deep and remembered he could just see Jessica. Between the trees, lost in the woods. Found by him. Found by Him. The details were so dark, blurred at the edges, warped by guilt. But Alex knew what he had done to Jessica. The weight of that action settled itself into the back of his mind, silent and cold and unmoving. He remembered, but it didn't matter.

Brian, Seth, Sarah… Alex counted them off on his fingers, tapping the syllables of their names into his thigh as he walked. They were gone too, Alex was certain of it. They had been involved with him. Each of them had met their end, would meet their end, and it was his fault. He had brought it upon them. Had he killed Brian? The steady two-tap rhythm that he drummed with his index finger told him that yes, he had. Of course he had. He had killed them all. Had he been himself when he did it? He didn't remember, and it didn't matter.

Tim. Alex could not recall Tim. The name conjured images of the hospital, sounds of grit underfoot, screams. He could see Tim but he did not remember him. He was with Jay now, filling Alex's place. Had it been his place? It had been so long, ages ago. Months, years, days. Tim hated him, and Alex knew why. He hated himself too. Perhaps Tim would kill him, Alex had no doubt that he could. He wouldn't hesitate. Alex kept walking, the trees never ending, never changing. Jay hadn't hated him, not in the beginning. He remembered, and it didn't matter.

Amy hated him, loathed him. He was certain that she did, that she should. He hadn't even said goodbye to her. She would have moved on by now, given up on him. He had done it for her. Alex would have given anything to keep her safe, and keeping her as far away from Him was all that he could think of to do. She had to be safe, and he wasn't safe. He hadn't been safe in a long time. He should have left her earlier, before she had found the camera, before He had seen her. "I'll see you after work." had been the last thing he had said to her. She left him hundreds of voicemails. Had he listened to them? He didn't remember, and it didn't matter.

Why hadn't Jay burned the tapes? It was Jay's fault. It had to be Jay's fault because Alex had done everything he could. He had done everything to stop it, to end this. Jay hadn't burned the tapes and Alex had left everything, everyone, and it hadn't made a bit of difference. They were all dead, dying. Pills and tapes couldn't prevent the inevitable. Jay hadn't hated him. He had been his best friend, his script supervisor. Jay would kill him. Kill Him. Alex had no doubt that he would. Alex had met Jay in the 5th grade. He remembered, but it didn't matter.

Alex remembered.

He wished he couldn't remember.