(Have you been paying attention to the quotes? Can you spot them all? Good luck.)

Chapter 9 – Past:

I could no longer feel my body. I just knew I was walking away. Walking to the small table ahead of me. Walking with nowhere to go. Nothing was present on the table. Nothing at all. I heard them all approaching from behind, but it didn't matter to me. I just wanted to be alone. I didn't want to talk to them, wouldn't that be weird? They're basically me…

"Child, understand that talking to yourself is natural here. Talk to us." Michael requested. "It's normal." He continued. I nodded, not looking at them, focusing my vision on the table, though… I didn't want to touch it. It didn't look safe, as if a red tint were surrounding it. None of them seemed to notice. "What is your name child?"

"… Mitchell." I whispered. I shook my head. "Mitch." I added. Was that my name? Did I have two names- no one called me Mitchell… Even if I knew that was my name- so what truly was my name?

"Mitchell… Child, why do you seem so distant?"

"I… I don't feel… Complete." I admitted.

"You never do. It isn't expected… But may I ask you something…?"

"Yes…?" I quietly asked, turning my head to look at them all. It was only me. Only the people that so very much look like me in ways I hadn't realized until now. My height, my age, my eyes… Just little details that tend to mean so much all the same.

"Are you ready to learn your fate, child?" Michael asked. I looked back to the table, seeing nothing but a table, though I'm sure there was supposed to be an object there- something to take me elsewhere. Is this my object?

"As in… learn who I truly am…? But what if… who I truly am… I don't accept…?" I questioned back, placing a hand on the table.

"Then… it's blissful… knowing that no one… will ever have to see you." Michael assured, two hands gently gripping my shoulders. The table didn't take me anywhere, nowhere at all. Thoughts began to consume my head, all different worries and fears. I withdrew my hand and took a step away from the table, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"And… what about… the sickened feeling… running in my veins…?" I continued, my stomach starting to turn and all of my limbs beginning to ache terribly.

"Well… You'll just have to deal with it." Michael stated. I looked back to him, Michael and the others giving me an apologetic look. I looked back to the table, placing both of my shaky hands onto it firmly, leaning over the table. Again, nothing happened. I was never taken elsewhere, never shown any images. Never did I begin to feel somewhat alive as I watched the pictures show their story.

"Why do I feel… so empty…? Empty in this place…?" I demanded, taking in a shaky breath and releasing it once more, tensing. Why…?

"Because child… You're truly alone now." My head snapped in the direction of them all, but they were all still there, every lifetime of Jerry's in the background. I looked to each and every one of them, turning back around and removing myself from the table. I placed my hands firmly on Michael's chest, but he was there. Physically there. I turned around again, my head beginning to swirl, breaking down. Why did those few words mean so much- where have I heard them before?

"When can I be free...? Free of this torment?" I demanded, running my hands through my hair and tugging it down tightly, stepping up onto the table, but still, nothing happened, making my blood both boil… and yet run cold.

"Dear child, you can't be." Michael argued, his voice raising just the slightest bit. I jumped down on the opposite side of the table, tense as I just swiftly began walking away. He doesn't know that- I can be free if I want to be! Michael suddenly appeared from nowhere in front of me, causing me to bump into him; not moving again as he calmly stared down at me. He took my shoulders and gently turned me around, back to where everyone else remained still. He began taking me back to the table, and I let him. He left me on the other side of the table, returning to the side with all of my past lives and staring at me, blankly, gently. "… Child, say something." Michael requested.

"And if the words… Cannot form…?" I choked out, staring intently at the table. Why does this table repulse me so much?

"I don't understand-."

"If I can't- if I don't tell him what I wish to say- if the words cannot form in time?!" I shouted, meeting his gaze as I stepped away from the now warming table. He just stared at me, as did everyone else, as if… As if I'd asked the most idiotic question in the word. "Answer me." I ordered, gritting my teeth.

"… That was your fate, so understand that you can't change it." Michael explained, not moving. I looked away, taking a slow, deep breath and calming myself down, though the table was still warm, not cooling. I placed my right hand on the table, gliding my fingers over all the beautiful markings and naturally aged wood. It was silent for a while, no one speaking, everyone simply watching me. It was like I could… feel. I could sense the table under my fingers, though the rest of my body remained untouched and numb. The table's texture was bumpy, but smooth, all the while changing to match the different colorations in the dark, light wood. It was like I could hear it whispering sweet nothings to me, sweet- simple things that relaxed me, though I could barely understand them. "… What's his name?" Michael asked, all of them waiting. I didn't make any eye contact, just staring down at the table- the table that I still felt repulsed by.

"… Jerome." I declared, though I wasn't sure what I was saying. I took in a sharp breath, weird, blurred images flashing rapidly before me. I couldn't make anything out, all I knew was that it wasn't supposed to look like this- the table knew that too. The table turned so hot my hand felt icy, causing me to scream and withdraw it as my entire body started aching majorly, my chest feeling heavy and weighed down, my breathing hard to control as no one did anything to help me, staring at me horrified. All of Jerome's- whoever that is- past lives rushed over as well, pairing up with their lovers, seeming somewhat scared. I fell to my knees, catching the rest of my body with my left hand, slowing my breathing as my body started calming down. The images were white, fast paced, blurred, and distorted. I knew it meant something, I just wasn't sure what. I out held my right hand, staring at the raw, red palm that was supposedly fine a minute ago.

"You…" Michael started, causing me to look at them quickly. He didn't finish. My body started to feel as if it were being pricked over and over again by tiny pins and needles, sharply- painfully. I bit my lip and held back tears, my mind going blank as I just sat there.

"Why do I feel like this?" I cried. "What's going on- what's happening to me?!" I kept my eyes tightly closed, scared. No one said a word. I looked up to all of them, gasping and leaning away. All of them looked the same- nothing had changed really. Except now they all shared a red tint in their eyes, sad expressions on their faces. "What's going on?" I breathed out shakily, not able to contain my fear.

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I." Jerry replied, clinging to Michael's arm.

"You don't understand what?!" I shouted, my throat closing up. Jerry stared down at the ground, a small smile coming to his face as he quietly hummed, closing his eyes and leaning against Michael.

"Jerome's a nice name." He stated, as if I hadn't said anything. More images flashed, though they still didn't make any sense at all. They just brought a major headache and refreshed the pain coursing in my veins.

"Tell me-… What's going on?!" I yelled, choking on my voice as I lifted my hand to my neck. I yanked it away, staring with horror as my hand started vaporizing. I looked back to all of them, a pleading look finding my face as they all just frowned, staring down at me. I let myself relax, my eyes half-lidded.

"If I were… to leave… how would I… come back?" I whispered, looking to Michael. Michael slowly shook his head no.

"You can't leave-."

"But if I were to-."

"You can't leave." Michael sternly interrupted, narrowing his eyes.

"But-."

"YOU JUST DON'T LEAVE!" Michael bellowed. I didn't flinch away, just took the harshness of his voice and left it at that.

"But… If somehow… I was able to… How would I… return?" I whispered, more of my body vaporizing as I felt myself start to go limp.

"You don't leave." Michael calmly started, staring firmly and intently down at me. "How could you? After all… You're dead."