A warning to all. Before you start reading this chapter, be aware that it will be the last chapter of this story. No, it's not finished, but I can't bring myself to continue to write anything for this story anymore. It has become overly-cheesy and tedious. I laugh while reading the chapters. Plus, I just can't think of an ending. You can basically predict that Johnny will arrive at 777 and stuffffff. Maybe I will go back to fix things in the future, and make this a fic with some substance, but not now. I have other plans... bwahaha. I love Stevie Wonder.

A while later, Johnny found himself sitting upon the cheap bedding of a motel room mattress. How he got there, he wasn't sure. It was too late (and too cold) to be wandering around the city.

You know what your problem is?

The room wasn't a pleasant place. The only light came from the dim, old lamp in the corner, and the smell of the place was like an old, wet book. The door didn't shut completely, which resulted in a terrible draft. The window looked like it hadn't been washed in years. There was a small TV in the middle of the room, perched on a table that seemed ancient. Johnny could hear a couple arguing in the room next to his.

I said, do you know what your problem is?

Johnny lay back on the bed, shifting a little as the mattress springs dug into his back. "I prefer not to speak to the voices in my head. You seem to be just as crazy and delusional as I am. Even more, maybe. I have it under control without you."

You don't want to speak, huh? Is having a normal conversation with your conscience below your dignity? Or are you just too afraid to admit your problem? I had a feeling you would be intimidated by me. I can understand why you'd be upset with your OTHER side, but I'm safe to talk to, as of now.

You're too afraid to admit anything to yourself, Nny. All you do is whine, and complain. And you run from your problems like you just ran from that Aria girl you just saw. You have yet to confront a SINGLE problem. You never FIGHT back!

"That is completely false. I don't think killing people who caused pain in your life counts as running away from your problems."

It DOES, though. Take Alex, for example. Instead of owning up to being with his sister, you kill him to avoid the problem. Veronica treating you badly? Choke her and leave her there, instead of trying to solve the problem in a rational manner. Frank is ready to call the police on you, so you kill him too! You should be on death row. But you ran away from the scene. You haven't confronted ONE problem so far. To say that you have things under control is a joke.

"I'm not so sure."

What are you going to do? Are you going to keep running, for the rest of your life? Pretty soon, there won't BE anywhere else for you to run. You'll be cornered. And THAT'S when all of your past problems will come back to haunt you. You'll be left with nothing but a "crazy" conscience and a LOT of dead people. Is that how we want things to turn out? You've got a real situation on your hands, Johnny boy.

"I know it's a problem. But if you're so against it, why, may I ask, were you so ready for me to kill Aria? I, in fact, was the one who didn't have the guts to do it. 'You'd be doing her a favor by ending her misery', you said. I don't understand what made you change your mind."

Oh, that wasn't me speaking. That was your OTHER conscience.

Johnny sat up. "What?"

You didn't know?

Johnny's eyes shifted, scanning the room in confusion. "I didn't know, no." He sighed, almost desperately, "I don't know anything anymore. I didn't mean for things to get this out of hand, with the killing and all. Why are things this way, anyway?"

You found the courage to stand up for yourself? I don't know.

"I've always been afraid to stand up for myself, yes. I've always been reserved. But I'm not a violent person. Killing those people is, virtually, torturing myself. Because I'm the one who has to deal with the memories. I'm the one who has to deal with the guilt afterwards. Plus, I hate blood. Don't you remember the scene in front of Frank's house? My hand was just gushing blood. I was scared to death. So why is it that, at the time, killing Alex didn't faze me at all? He was in a pool of blood, after all."

I think that, somehow, you changed yourself. You became a different person.

"Hell if I know who I am, when I don't even know who my conscience is." He paused. "Why aren't you swearing at me and insulting me like you normally do?"

I think you're talking about the OTHER side of your conscience again.

"Oh."

Johnny clicked on the television, and watched the fuzzy picture. It was an old, epic film that had just come back from a commercial break.

And there you go. Instead of talking to us about yourself, you turn on the TV. You're running away from your problems again!

In frustration, Johnny hit the Off button on the remote. He flung his sore body against the uncomfortable mattress once more. "Are you happy?"

Say it with a SMILE, Nny! We're your friends! At least, I am. Say, this room is quite disgusting. Couldn't you have picked a better place?

The lightbulb flickered for a short moment, then burned out completely. Johnny stated dully into the dark, "The light bulb burned out."

Well, maybe you should rest, then.

Johnny crawled under the thin blankets, but didn't go to sleep. He only lay there, staring into the dark, silent space.

"It's not right. I shouldn't be listening to imaginary voices in my head," he whispered to himself.

I told you to sleep.