Thank you reviewers! And wow, Marti, thanks for the review-blitz!
Sorry I'm slow, everybody. Enjoy chapter twenty-five.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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Waking I Don't Know.
I'm still here.
I didn't mean to sleep.
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I don't think Greys is coming back.
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Oh Moons...
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I climbed a little. It hurt. Too heavy on my knee. Felt crunchy.
Too much to carry, too much to drag.
When I move, everything burns, my body doesn't like it. Wants to sleep.
But I found some marks. Found a few marks that... he left. And marks of ways not to go.
They guided me and I followed them up.
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I couldn't go very far.
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My stomach growls, has nothing to chew on but itself. Just burning all over inside.
Everything feels weak. Makes my arms and legs feel weak.
Everything's too heavy and I just want to sleep.
It's all right for dozing, moments between the claps and rolls of the Thunder. I almost don't hear it anymore.
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My gums still hurt. Am I going to catch the scurvy and die?
Which will get me first? Scurvy or starvation?
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I wish I could see Elena again. Eat an orange for me, Elena. Or Paco.
Toss me a section.
Because I'm so hungry.
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I don't think I'm going to make it out of this.
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I'm sorry.
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I'm so sorry.
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I--
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I can't be afraid anymore.
My hand got tired of writing. So I read the whole thing over, read my whole journal, right here, just now. I didn't realize my writing had changed so much. My writing is only my thoughts. Maybe my thoughts were what really changed. So if my thoughts changed... and our thoughts are what make us... does that mean I as a person have changed? For better or worse I don't know, but I think I have. Even if in nothing more than that I used to have such a hard time reading in the dark. I think my eyes are adjusting to it. It seems easier.
The pages are so wide and light. Haley must have been itching to use this book. When I read it over, I realized I never told you, Haley was not much given to writing, not like I am. Haley drew pictures. This was going to be his next sketchbook. I did write that Haley couldn't sleep at night because he was too preoccupied sketching Shanda's face. But I didn't say that it was what he did, that it was his hobby, his thing. To draw. He was very good, very skilled.
Haley--
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Wind. And the Thunder stills. Quiet. Eerie.
I can't be afraid anymore.
When I read what Greys wrote, I just--
Something Greys said...
It makes me... I feel...
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I will not be afraid any longer. I will not be shamed.
Whoever you are, even if you are Nobody, even if no one ever sees this writing, it is still here, it still exists. And it is flawed. There is a wrong I must set right. It shames me. It has shamed me for a long time.
I lied. In my writing, in my very journal, I lied. It is something I have never done before, and now having experienced it, all its shame and anguish, it is something I will never do again for as long as I live. How ironic, for it may not be that long. I am a coward. But I will be an honest coward here at the last.
I should have died with Haley. When the mast went down. In all the storm and shivers.
I wrote that Haley saved me, that he protected me.
He didn't.
When the shivers flew, Haley did not move. I did. I moved behind him.
Yes, I am a coward! Yes, I am the lowest form of keel-scum, festering in its own rot of fear and lies! Yes, I ran and fled from danger and death and left my friend in the face of it! Yes, I admit it! I admit it. I open myself up and lay everything bare: I lived and Haley died because I was a coward. And I face your judgments, what you may think of me. I face them all. Were I to live, to be rescued, and then sentenced to torture and death for my cowardice, I would face it. For I will not take this secret to my grave. I will not be shamed with lies beyond my death.
Yes, I am a coward. I will be a coward forever.
But I will be an honest coward.
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My only hope is that honesty be higher than bravery.
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The Thunder returns.
Everything's a dream now.
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I had thought it would be better to lift him up above me with a lie, than to lower myself down below him with the truth. Either way, I would end up on the bottom. I would end up the lesser.
And I am.
And I face it.
I accept it.
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I am here, at the bottom of the world, and I accept it.
I am alone, and all those dear to me far away or dead.
But my conscience is clear.
And it pains me.
But it is clear, it is clear.
And I can breathe, and I am finally free.
The burden is gone.
And that is enough.
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If I do not write more, finish it for me, finish the story, whatever it be that happens to me.
But for now I think this is it. I'm saying good-bye.
Because now I've said all that needs to be said.
And that's all.
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Dearest Elena, if somewhere beyond I should see Mom and Dad...
I'll give them your love.
Moons watch over you and Diego always.
Love you, big sister.
Alexandro
