It was the swings- that much Travis knew- he was standing right behind them. But he couldn't remember how he'd gotten there- and no one else was around, except for this one girl, who was on the swing in front of him. She was probably a couple years younger than he was. And she was wearing an outfit that looked almost like a uniform, skirt and jacket and tie combo.

And she was looking over her shoulder, at him, with this weird look on her face. It might've been sad, it might've been worried.

Unsure of what else to do, Travis gently reached out his hands and pushed the girl, giving the swing motion.

She didn't pump her legs or anything; she just kept looking at him.

Travis pushed her again, happy for something to do. He pushed her a little bit harder next time, sending her higher up. He repeated this for a while.

It was kinda weird, being in an empty park with the sun going down, alone except for this weird girl who wouldn't talk and kept looking at him.

And when he met her eyes, it felt almost like he knew her, except he didn't, he'd never seen her before. At least he thought he hadn't.

And the higher she went, the weirder it was- sometimes it almost seemed like there was no swing, and she was just rising up and up, like she was going to sprout wings and fly off.

And leave him there.

And that was a scary thought.

"It's getting dark." he said, hoping for a response.

She ducked her head down. "Travis." she whispered.

He almost didn't push the swing back in time. Then he did know her! Or at least she knew him.

She was looking at him again, straight into his eyes now. "Travis, I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what?"

"It's my fault. My fault you're here."

He opened his mouth to say something but-

Something flashed-

And there was a street, and the girl was running down it and glancing over her shoulder just like now, and he was chasing her-

And the ground was cracking beneath his feet.

And for the first time, she looked afraid, he saw fear in her eyes, but the swing remained, even as the ground crumbled and she reached for his hand with both of hers and held on, but even as she grabbed it, his hands became bigger and rougher and hairier and his weight was pulling her with him and he couldn't take her with him, he just couldn't.

So Travis let go.

He didn't really have a choice.

Then he woke up.

He tried to move, but he was strapped down. Irrationally, he yanked at them, at the straps binding his feet and hands.

Then Lisa was bending over him saying something and in the background, he heard a voice that might've been Kaufmann's.

"Alessa?" he managed to croak, in a voice that barely sounded like his.

He thought Lisa said something like "Oh poor man! He's still delirious!" and Kauffman said something about the drug dosage.

But their voices sounded far away and anyway he was distracted. Distracted by the small hands that placed themselves on his shoulders before moving slowly, hesitantly, to hug him.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault. My fault you're here."

"I-" why were the words so hard to get out? "Didn't I do something?"

"No!" she cried out and hugged him tighter. "No, you wouldn't do anything like that! You saved me when no one else would! You- you-" and now grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and then she whispered, "You're coming with me."

Then she pulled, and he just had time to see the mirror before they passed through it.

… (Mutters something about "crack" and "fun to write" before coughing) I guess you could consider this my response to the bad ending. Hope it's not too confusing.