Summary:
The asylum is no place to stay. Without even trying to escape, Max gets automatically reset back to the solidified timeline. She makes her next step to win back the trust of her beloved Chloe. But something interrupts the system.
Chapter 04 – Hope is Death
Theme Song: Phaeleh – Fallen Light
I hate to say this but, "What a bitch of a day!" Is it even suitable to call this process… day? I'm awake since… when was I? Wandering from a storm to the other storm and then back into a strange reality, where Nathan shatters his head and I am Blackwell's first obvious missing victim. Abducted by Jefferson. And after all that shit I finally pass out to find myself two years later inside an asylum. One positive thing is important to mention, though. I'm not so fucking bony in 2015. I must have gained at least twenty pounds. Great, my butt has some shape, at long last…
This day feels as if my brain is in a constant spin for over 48 hours nonstop. Hope the sub-consciousness will be capable to render everything in my sleep. It really needs to catch up. Oh, I remind me of my thirst back at Blackwell. I wanted to get me a can of soda, there. So, here I'll get me a tasty hibiscus tea instead, although I'm not feeling the two-year old thirst anymore. My throat ain't parched as well. Due to my fuck-time-travel-powers I'm losing confidence in my daily needs successively step by step. Anyways, this place isn't too horrible. It definitely isn't the cliché asylum either. It's a closed institution for medical treatment of complex mental diseases. Everybody in here has a comprehensible reason to stay and get medicine. I guess, I'm deep into depressions. And again, I'm kinda glad for the confusing amnesia, so that I can't remember literally every detail. My real brain has to be a pure mess right now. But that doesn't change my determination. I want to read everything that my other-self had written down in my old diary. What had she had on her mind?
At any rate, the scribble-notes on my body are damn interesting. I go into my bathroom. A small room built into my Maximus-chamber of derangement. A giant mirror with a sink and a small sideboard. A loose tile on the wall bears little space to deposit stuff. Ah I remember. The movie "Amelie", it had something similar to it. Behind me, there's a roll-in shower with white semi-transparent cloth. If there were no bars behind the window, this could also be a mundane hospital. Exhilarating to watch myself inside a smooth spotless mirror with no cracks. It's me, "Hey." Look at those eyes, look at the rest of my body. Whoa! I've never been doing worse… I grab my toothbrush, walk outside on the floor, crowded with some nurses and other patients. One old man in a wheelchair startles, as he sees me leaving my sickroom.
I raise my hand to rewind. I sense everything in a backwards motion. No humming of whales nor anything else. It's not a pulse either. Sheer rewinding and that's it. Period!
I stop the rewind. Michael has just left my room, and the old guy in the wheelchair sits with his back to me. The toothbrush has remained unharmed in my other hand. My rewind-powers are reliable, so to speak, even after all the horrors from 2013. If I ever had owned a gift for a reason, I would have used it until its purpose absconds. Speaking of which, I don't want to know, how many patients have tried to get rid of their mental problems. This is not a place for repentance. This is a place of replenishing mental sanity. Some will find their way out of their demise, some will never finish their endless cycle of… cut it out Max! Michael walks past me and pets my shoulder smirking like an angel. A big angel. I hope there's no deeper meaning to that smirk. I could listen to Don't Stay Here, again because that's what I'm planning to do. Finding my way out of this building. Solving puzzles and events on the layer of time, that I've just left. I suppose, that everything I do, will affect my current… state, my current present Me.
I go back inside of my room and enter the bathroom. Goodbye for now Mister Toothbrush. You helped me with an important quest: Finding out, if I was still capable to meddle with my biggest foe. Time.
After my adventure with Mister Toothbrush I reenter my room. Everything's so white and bright. It almost reminds me of Kate's light spilled room albeit I had a bad headache there. Here, it's all going to be okay. No nosebleeds, either. On a little nightstand, I grab my ancient diary. Whew, some good ol' feelings, that need to be polished, I guess. While holding the heavy book, I notice all the penmanship on my skin. Well, let's read those first.
- friendship -
- - jinxed accident
-Joyce -
-Warn - party
-Tell Da- about -
- - Polaroid
-Break cycle
-Chloe will die inside fragment
Well that's… uncanny. I don't understand these notes, and most of them have faded entirely. Are they intended to be read by someone? For the Amnesia-Max? Or who else I might be? "Chloe can die in fragment" hum, what does she… me… mean by that? I grab my music player and choose the song by Muse. Okay, let's read Max, shall we?
"July 10, 2013
I GOT ACCEPTED INTO BLACKWELL ACADEMY.
If words could dance, this would be a rave. Even though I've never been to one… But who cares because I GOT INTO BLACKWELL ACADEMY! […]"
So far so whacky. Everything I wrote seems to be… unchanged. I skim the pages, but so far, it's all the well-known fluff. But wait. I've almost skipped an important spot.
"August 18, 2013
So this is it. I'm leaving Seattle to go back to Arcadia Bay. Usually people go to the High School closest to home. I suppose I am too, it's just I haven't lived there for five years. Out of all the best photography programs in the world, I choose to go to the smallest, back in a town I was excited about leaving.
On the flipside of the coin there is still this thing between Chloe and me. I know I fucked up in her life, like nobody else could. I'm not regretting anything, anymore, since I've changed a lot. I hope she'll continue the game with me someday. Being pirates again, on our never-ending search for treasure. I'll miss my parents. Now I'm sorta grown-up, aren't I?
Now it's time to get back to Arcadia Bay. Time for total redemption. To study photography under Mark Jefferson […]"
I'm getting sick already! How the? This is cryptic… August the 25th is yet the same. The way of writing changed inherently terribly. I'm like three times more depressed, Muse's song perfectly fits all over again. I can feel this…
"[…] Nobody will know me there, even Chloe knows how to leave me at bay. Hopefully Jefferson will be a kind teacher. […]"
This is driving me crazy. I had written all sentences as if I knew what's standing ahead. Actually, it is obvious to me. I mean everybody could've written the same way how I wrote this diary but I understand this in a different way.
"[…] I just want things to be… different at Blackwell."
Story of my life… Well, September second is an entire new story.
"September second, 2013, 08:00 am
My first entry from my new dorm room the night before my first day at Blackwell. Whew! I cramped out all my stuff, threw it in my wardrobe at random and captured a fucking lot of selfies. When- and wherever I could. Even with other people near me. I plan a whole wall o' photos… they will show everything that's inside of me. My only truth. I did meet a lot of my dorm mates, though I creeped the fuck out of them, because I knew their names in an instant. I'm a fast learner I mean… It's a bitch trying to get settled into a new school and social scene after I finally found good friends in Seattle. The inception of my studies is a mess."
I can't describe my emotions about the next page. Christ!
"September third, 2013
Ankle-deep inside Blackwell's shit! I couldn't sleep at all. I can hear their laughter echoing in my head. And don't get me started with that slut Victoria. Rich, stylish, entitled, ass kissing our photography teacher. Her mere look at me told enough. Yeah, good word: Enough! This instant judgement of hers made almost all of them thinking the same way. I can't find healthy sleep at night… insomnia.
So that wasn't fun along with my general social unease… Anyhow, it develops as expected… Max shows her weirdo face right at the beginning. Nevertheless, I love Blackwell's architecture. Pretty ancient and so beautiful. I could get used to its presence without those despicable students. Hopefully, Mister Jefferson's photography class ain't too egocentric, as most artist become sooner or later.
I have to keep my eyes peeled. Something's very foul."
Reading my old diary is like an utter diverging feeling. On one hand, nostalgic on the other completely wrong. I hadn't been able to know everything up from the beginning, had I? The next entry is strange.
"September fourth, 2013
Once I thought Victoria was just the beginning, what about that Prescott boy? I see him decking Warren, that poor benign dude. Warren's a cool guy, but I was too gutless to defend him. That Asian girl Brooke took care of it. Yet, he came to visit me afterwards. A dark and witty guy, maybe I'll try to talk to him in the next days. He deserves better than being thrashed in everybody's presence.
At least I get to research famous photographers for some of my homework. Mr. Jefferson assigned us a fricking ton of reading, but hey, this is exactly what I want to do. Do it all on my own. Jefferson is supercreepy and all his statements are ambiguous. He even ignores me, when Victoria and those two other girls start with their 'fun'… Thanks a lot for nothing!"
Are my entries all deliberately written that obvious way? Gosh, it's so fucking suspicious. And one word always shimmers, once I read it. My mind is playing its tricks again. Thanks anyway. September the fifteenth let's give that one a whirl… and is exceptionally strange…
"September fifteenth
Homework destroys me. I bet, the teachers grade harder to stop you from feeling somewhat special. Victoria Chase and her snobbish gals are exceptions. They feel like queens (=bitches). Just like that awesome song by Bowie… Sigh, I could use some music right now. Kate is the only kind girl around. Warren sometimes looks inside my creep-ass dorm room, whether everything's fine. Apparently not! Victoria already had some great ideas about giving me a nickname: Zoombie-Max. That's big of you, you slut! You see what she made there? Not funny… Though it's creative to treat me like an ugly witch.
And about Nathan… I'll pass on that one. Won't say anything about that psycho. […]"
Again, the text jiggles and shimmers. Maybe I shouldn't read the entire entry. 20pm already? Haha, I totally lost feeling and perception about time. Should I rewind to read the entire diary in one big sitting? Really odd that I did not mention anything else about Nathan in there. I presume that I dropped an entire line for him. Yeah, I don't oblige him. Whatever… let's get going. The next entry was September the thirtieth:
"September thirtieth, 2013
This is enough bullshit. Victoria is the worst. Fuck this planet, fuck this eerie photography teacher and this smart ass paranoid surveillance-addicted security guard Madsen. Yeah, sure thing he's mad. Following me, taking photos of me. You'd think it is easy to avoid such creeps? Being 18 does NOT make you harder or better than the rest. And most importantly, not grown-up. 18 is a – not telling you anything – figure which represents your age, period. I'm happy, as long as I can escape him and run back into my dorm room and lean the mattress against the door. My room is akin to a sinister sanctuary. And if I was exaggeratedly precise, Kate's room would be the opposite. The magnanimous haven of sanity. A sacrament… It's good to water on her shoulder every-fucking time, Victoria and her crew riles me up. Talking about crew, I'm not lying when I tell you that it surely is getting bigger and bigger. More and more adherents joined to support bullying the Zombie-Max. Guess they need a Facebook page just for that reasonable purpose.
Talking more about the academy: Ms. Grant is terrific. A superb teacher, to be honest. Even a thick bonehead like me understands those physics stuff. I could try to involve myself more into her class. But with a mouth wired shut it's fairly easy to survive the day at Blackwell. I'm the well-known slacker who doesn't speak. Back to Ms. Grant, she's a good listener. Compassionate and good-natured. Jefferson could need some of her traits, for sure! Yuck, I wish it would be possible to avoid his classes. But hey, I can't keep this up. Maybe this is again all just my fucking fault. Just think about Chloe and what you've done to her."
Now that's a big one. Whew! My thoughts are a big mess. I think I'll read more, tomorrow. Hopefully, this isn't a big mistake. But wait, the entry of October first is interesting. The song by Muse is about to end.
"October first
this is obnoxious. You could use a shrink. He will take care of you. Fade away in there. This diary is senseless. Stop to read or parents vanish!?"
All letters on that page flicker, jiggle and are visually corrupted. No exact date… Where the hell is my mind? Well, I see… I cut out something and glued it on top of the letters. Those elements are shaking highhandedly. Blocky artifacts appear on top the self-written words. The ink beneath those fragments is not what's causing these flickering. Sigh, the next enigma along with the amnesia. Ugh, this is stressful. 22pm? What? That's impossible! I listened to one song and lost track… shit nap time… if I find some sleep, that'll be great. No more sunlight spills my sickroom. I walk to the window. Hah, the moon has no clone. Good old memory. Double moon… yeah and other creepy shit, that nobody needs in their life. My life equals a loop.
I walk back to my bed. I'll find some rest. As I'm closing my eyes, I notice a thunder of a storm. Definitely not a dream, I reckon. A dream within a dream must have ended, I think.
Where am I? Not this bullshit again? I wake up on a muddy pathway inside of the wild storm, all over again. I must get up on my feet. I'm trapped in here just like every time I lose conrol… There's the lighthouse… Okay, I'll be safe up there, if I can make it… I really hope… That boat must hit me, so that I'll reawake somewhere else. The rain hurts my eyes like stitching needles. The storm whips trash and dirt around. Okay, this is still creepy. Fresh stains of blood in the mud flowing down the pathway. The trail of blood made its way downhill. A swarm of sand particles carries a photograph. I catch that image, but the wind is too strong, it slips out of my hands within a fraction of a second. A boat bursts into the lighthouse and… holy shit! Whoa! I black out. I'm feeling nothing, but...
The sound of a bell rings…
I startle, and wake up in Jefferson's photography class. That was so… unexpected. I'll have a quick look around. Everything seems to be nor… disturbed and fucked up as it has always been. Yeah, I'm back into the world of madness. I hear Mr. Jefferson rambling. What? Back here again? It started a cycle, a new lap on a race? I can't… Kate is still serene and blatantly sound… Am I back on the shitty timeline? My heart slams wildly in my thorax, thumping against my ribs. Dammit, Jefferson's silly questions that everyone has to know on demand. Hitchcock would leave his tomb just to make your face shut. Jefferson rambles and jabbers and can't stop his selfish crap. He turns around facing with his back to us and keeps talking. Taylor uses the situation and throws the balled-up paper at me. I fend it with my left hand and show them the middle finger. No need to frown at them or to give them a look.
"Zombie-Max is go…" – "Fuck you!" I interrupt her lame comment without looking at her face. "Kids, please! Go do your childish stuff somewhere else! I'm not here to lecture you, go solve your problems somewhere else!" Jefferson grumps, during the ringing of the school bell. No, I don't need to be here. Don't stay here Max…
I clench my fist. I try to change my position immediately to the parking lot and go backwards in time. The sound of the bell tolls again. Humming of whales… shit my neck.
The school bell's not ringing. I'm on the parking lot. I fall to my knees coughing with pain in my lungs and around my neck. Nathan waits there impatiently. He didn't realize my coughing. I don't understand why, but nonetheless I can keep my hiding spot. Nathan is nervous… obviously. I get back on my feet… damn I'm tired of this. Chloe arrives with her truck on the parking lot. Nathan paces back and forth but confronts Chloe after she pulled the handbrake. What is this going to become? I try listening to them. Chloe leaves the truck slowly and a bit frightened. Color me impressed… literally every single hair on her head is dyed red. She'll always look hot as hell. The sunlight burns her head and intensifies the red saturation. The color seems to create a vapor or is it just the steam arising from the pavement? She approaches Nathan anxiously.
She starts off though "You know this will get you in shitload of tro-" – "Where's Frank!" Nathan yells at her. "Hear me out! First you tell me, what you tried with me, after you fuck-!" – "No you disgraceful slut. You are on my property. MY fucking rules!" Nathan grabs her neck and pushes her against the door of her truck. He points with his forefinger in her face. Almost digging it in her eye. "You… you will tell me where the fuck Frank is, now! You know what I'm capable of?" – "I don't know what the hell you're talking about. He's not in that business anymore. Frank is out of that business…" Nathan releases Chloe out of his grip. She slides down the door to the hard ground and coughs a few times. She softly feels around her gorge with her fingers and snorts briefly. Nathan's fist loads with anger. Oh, please keep calm! The anger literally boils through his chest and… he slaps her… ouch, that hurt. Even in my ears. I can still remember the sound. "Go to hell!" she quietly whimpers and tries to get up with her legs shaking. Now she grabs a cigarette out of her pocket and starts to smoke. Nathan has turned around and left.
Perhaps, a new chance for me… on my shaky legs… I leave my hiding position and sneak through the other parked cars. Chloe realizes my approach as I start talking to her, "What if I told you that Nathan will shoot himself in the next sixty seconds, would you give me a ride?" – "Who the fuck are you?" dammit, she's upset. I approach her, "Please Chloe, I know you lost…" her throat. This bowls me over. She went through the same torture in the dark room? It can't be. "Get the fuck away you sicko!" she tries to keep me away with her left hand. Those words hit me hard. I know there must be good reasons for her reaction. I can't let her go. I face her again but she shows intentional refusal. She raises the hand to nonverbally tell 'no' again… I grab after her wrist, clench my fist and hope, she'll understand.
I pulse us into the future. Right to Nathan's room… The sounds are still the same. Bell, whales and a muffled scrunch through my body. My throat burns.
Nathan is there already but hasn't noticed us, albeit Chloe and I have pulsed us inside of his room. "Hell, this can't be real!" Chloe screams. And still, without noticing us, Nathan pulls the trigger. Chloe yells with fear, her head rubs against my shoulder while she tries to find some cover behind me. I'm not getting used to this – watch somebody shooting himself – crap. Chloe shivers, "Not here again!" her face is covered in his blood on the right side of her face. Those eyes, I could just give her a kiss. But, that would just creep the fuck out of her, even more. Still coughing, I touch her right cheek, while clenching my other fist. I know it'll hurt a lot more than normal.
I pulse us backwards in time. The choke drives me unconscious…
Chloe and I have been repositioned to the truck. I release her cheek. I blindly try to grab her arm and I fetched something. She tugs her arm out of my grasp, nudges me away and gets back inside the truck. While getting in her car she whimpers, "Don't you ever do that again." – "I'm Ma…," I can't finish my sentence because my brain has totally given it up. Everything is dark, only my ears seem to work. I cough in pain while she shifts into the first gear. But she stays… it confuses me to think about the occurrence with Evan. When I had pulsed us back, he was replaced to the bench, where he has sitting the entire time. I also wiped his memory… like… every bit of it. But Chloe must feel and see something. Finally, I can see again.
I crawl to her truck and try not to annoy her even more. She looks so sad. The truck's engine keeps running but Chloe is not leaving. She doesn't look super mad… she's… blue – no pun intended, though. She stares to the ground and changes her view towards me. I'm the stupid idiot, who's trying to get back on their feet. "Get in…," she says. That means she remembers my request to get in for a ride. I broke something? I stagger around her truck and make my way in. Oh, man that good ol' scent in her truck. "Who are you?" – "Max… Caulfield," I cough. Nathan's shot echoes through campus to us. Birds leave the treetops in little swarms. Contorted with pain Chloe turns away from me covers her face with both her hands. She leans out of the window quite a bit. I see her shoulder, the tattoos, the red hair… I can't brace myself. Can't think straight… I just pet her shoulder. Show your compassionate Max, as good as you can. Her skin feels beautiful, so soft. She denies my touch and wiggles with her shoulder. Fuck, this is more fucked up than I thought.
"I knew this would happen someday…," she tries to say it rather composed, but I know that Chloe will tell me more about everything. At least, it's what I hope for. In her truck, she turns the music on, "I need something to relax." So, "Paradise Circus by Massive Attack" is relaxing to you? I mean it is definitely more depressing to me, by any means. Man, its emotional impact shocks me. This song is heavy. Chloe has also shut her mouth…
Driving on a highway through woods and ditches. Oh, we drove past the junk yard. I'm blinded… the sun always shines inside the truck. Chloe drops a large shadow on me. Sunbeams burn across her already red burning hair. The rolling by landscape behind her, the hair flying in all directions because her car windows is pulled down. It makes me feel serene again. She'll always be my beautiful angel. She'll never know nor find out… I hope I can still change things. The song on her radio reaches two spots that give me the rest.
"Love is like a sin, my love,
For the ones that feel it the most"
Great, that totally kills me. Fuck my sore throat, fuck this timeline, fuck all of it, I've never shed so many tears, ever since… oh well and fuck this amnesia, too. I'm becoming deaf, tears leave my eyes constantly, the song sustains its clarity. Huddling on the seat, I water and cry out my eyes until they become dry. In deep hope for some salvation. And why isn't there anybody to comfort me? Chloe! You are right next to me. Chloe pulls up, and my head bangs against the glovebox. Ouch, my cortex really needs this, too. Right after a mental enema treatment. Who cares? All you find inside my head is hot air and poop.
We are deep in the woods. Reminds me of the location of that old barn. Yeesh, a place I don't really want to go back to. The song has ended, a mellow noise remains and the next track will follow. My eyes still water a little. It's lessening at least. Gosh I forgot how fricking weak I am on this brutal layer of time.
The light in Chloe's car is amazing. I wish I had my camera with me. I see Chloe in the left angle of my field of view. A reload sound clicks. I glance to my left. The sunlight behind her shines on my face. The backlight makes her shape look like a dark silhouette. The left side of her face, burnt by daylight. David's gun in her hands points at my face. Now Max, this is how deep you've fallen down. The beautiful world surrounds you while everything else decays and rots. Now, you are next! At gunpoint.
Chloe sways a lot. If she'd pulled, she more likely wouldn't have hit me. The rod approaches me… To be really honest… I'm scared shitless by this. But I can understand why she's doing this, for no real reason. Though I know nothing about her life, it is also nice to die in her vicinity. I'm neither aware of anything about her life in this dimension nor mine. And still, I cannot remember anything about my own past, either. I had the possibility to read the diary further, but time had to run out. I haven't slept… and haven't found enough answers. I'm the failure in the system.
"I was warned… about your arrival!" she says nervously. She grinds with her teeth and isn't afraid to show her anger driven by her despair, "Now I've seen enough. If you are a fucking witch, you'll prevent me from pulling the trigger, won't you?" Chloe threatens me. I'll shut my eyes. Hope she really finishes it here, although I know that- oh God, the gun really has fired a shot. She has hit my arm… I sense the blood leaving my left underarm. The pounding of my heart hits inside of my injured body part. Slowly I realize the pain increasingly growing in my hand, arm, shoulder, head. By not moving a single muscle, I draw a load of breath and open my eyes. The revolver falls out of her hands, "Gee, I didn't want to…," Chloe covers her mouth with one hand. She tries to excuse but I interrupt her while touching her right shaky hand, "None taken…"
I clench my other fist and pulse back for a short period of time. I try to focus and keep my position. However, the choke is pretty bad. The bell and whales are becoming neglectable…
Chloe almost finishes her sentence, "…prevent me from pul-" my heart races against my ribs. I must say something, "Please, don't shoot my arm… I know..." her carotid pounds. I hear the revolver dropping. I look at her to my left. I think I can hear her heartbeat. Cute, despite the fact that she has shot me in an alternate reality. She's frightened and disturbed at the same time. "Get out!" she orders me desperately. I think she's trying to play tough once again. But actually, she seems devastated. I see the red outline of a rope around her neck. Story of my life. "I said get the hell out!" she opens the door herself and nudges me out while almost beginning to cry. The spinning tires squirt dirt into my face. "CHLOE!?" I scream after her, wiping some dirt out of my face. Don't even try Max, you must do something else… I hope, I'll find my way back to Blackwell. My phone vibrates. My mother, again…
"Hi honey Your principal sent me an email saying that he is concerned about your attitude and behavior that you are not fitting in well and hiding in your dorm I know it's hard to be away from home even if you are all grown-up now. But you are there to change the world with your camera please call me soon to chat we miss you! Xxoo mommy"
Let's eh, find the way out of the woods. So where to go first… blackout.
The ugly chime of a bell tolls and echoes inside my head. I change the location immediately while blacking out.
Where am I? My head aches terribly. A knocking on my doorstep becomes louder. My brain can't handle the pain. I can hear my blood dripping on my first selfie from Jefferson's lesson beneath my nose. Now, it's covered in blood all over again. And I can't stop it. A déjà-vu in some place that feels a stranger. My stereo plays Yung Sherman and Lil Sad – Hide Forever. Great, the same song that perfectly blends with my fuck-where-am-I-situation. I'm blind, can't open my lids… someone comes closer to me from my back.
"Hi, Max… Max, listen to me. Always remember that you're not alone. I've got your back, no matter what happens. God will guide us, and a lot of other people, too. We all care, we're all here for you. You need to know that."
I can see again... I've been ported back to my chair in front of my desk? Kate leans forward to look into my eyes. She's on the left side of my desk hoping for an answer. On her left, the impaled Teddy and trampled Lisa. I turn my head to look at her. Kate's mouth opens. Apparently, she is intrigued by my fucked-up visage. No stains of blood on her shoulder, since I haven't embraced her.
"Christ, Max. Hopefully, I'm not too late," she wonders. Hope… sigh. I brainstormed about hoping positive stuff enough, for today. "I actually came here to tell you that Mr. Jefferson asked, to talk to you again at 6pm, since you slept through his entire course, today," she adds. "Only God knows why those gals treat you like the devil. I'd also look like you, if I was in your situation!" Kate adds almost sad. This day is yet strange again. "After all, the new student from abroad seems to be a sensible person," she continues. "Who is it?" are my first words to her. "You've got something on your shoulder…," Kate picks a red little hair… obviously, Chloe left a little mark. And I thought, I was captured inside an endless cycle of death. Another oddity: she's not mentioning Nathan's death. Ah I remember, she prayed for that schmuck and 'forgive and forget', right? Hope and pray for his salvation. Amen!