I don't think this chapter is for the faint of heart, but I would read it anyways. It's not gross, it's just very angst-y and bloody. Rather depressing. Thanks to everyone who's been following. The next chapter will be following where I left off before going four-years back, right after Noodle had gotten home after buying the Plastic Beach album.

I had no idea how long I have been down here, I only knew I was running out of momentum. I knew it would not be long before my body could not take anymore abuse and I would be forced to give up… possibly die. I wanted to die, but I do not know where that would lead me. I am not afraid of dying. It does not even register on a list a fears that I do not have many of. No, I am not afraid of dying… I'm… I'm a little bit scared of what comes after. Will it lead me into an eternal bliss and erase the suffering? Or will I just end up right back here, like I had never died in the first place? I am most afraid, however, that when I die, nothing will happen. That it will be over, and I will no longer exist, and I will not even remember having existed. I refused to accept that possibility. What was the point of this life if there were nothing after? It cannot possibly be such a futile existence. The life I'd had before was so beautiful; I would never believe that world came about by chance. There was too much too perfect to ever even consider it –there had to be something more…

Here I am hiding, or rather resting in a crevice in one of the many walls. There was no hiding in Hell. Someone or something would always know where you were. I think the demons did not find me as entertaining as the first moment I had arrived here. They beat me every day, or whatever you would call a moment in time. They tell me I'm weak, I have been forgotten and left behind, I deserve to be here. They were always telling such horrible lies in a thirst for crushing your hope, and laughing as it was ground into dust, to be forever lost as it blew away with the hot ash. They beat me to near death whenever they saw fit. It was only when I just held as still as possible and took the pain without fighting back that they would leave me be. Otherwise, if I struggled or pleaded for them to stop, they would only laugh at my pathetic attempts of reason and continue with their lashings.

I hated how they got into my head, and made me believe things that I should know are false. The demons would tell me I would always be here; that 2D-kun was angry with me for leaving him, and that he had forgotten me and no longer wished for me in his life. I could not help but let out a shuddering wail and become defiant whenever they dared to mention him, but that only ever provoked them further into telling me more lies that drove me to madness. They told me Russel-sama had never thought of me as a daughter and only ever pitied me, and that he was glad he did not have to look out for me anymore. They even told me that Murdoc-san had never respected me, nor did he care if I was alive or not. He would never come to find me here, and he had been planning on killing me when he was through with me anyways. Lies... they all were. But, I remember having heard that people tend to start to believe the lies they're told the more they hear said lies in repetition, and I believe that I may be one of said people. What if it was true? Had they left me behind?

I think at one point I had tried to get into contact with my family, but I had no idea how I did it, or long ago it was –it was such a far away memory I wasn't even sure it even happened. I knew the demon boy was still trying to get to Russel, and I knew they needed to know that they may have been in danger. And I remember having found something Murdoc always spoke of needing, but I don't remember what it was. But maybe it was just another lie I had been told. It must have happened though, for I had been given a painful slash on my neck as punishment. It was not fatal, but it had bled quite a bit, and was slightly painful still. It may have left a shallow scar, but that was nothing.

Whatever, I do not think I care about such frailties and pointless matters much anymore. The more I care, the more pain I receive. It is best to forget about the past and not dwell on it. For if I do, I fear I would have perished long ago. My heart ached ferociously when I realized I would have to try to not care about my family from any moment on, but that was the only way. If I did not believe that I no longer had feeling, the demons would use it against me, and I would not last here. If I showed one moment of weakness, they would hold it against me until I was gasping for breath and trembling with pain.

Not long earlier, I had accidentally let my feeling get the better of me for a split second, and they had sensed it. It had been a long while since I had revealed anything, and they did not take such a small, nonexistent outburst lightly. No, now my face felt as though it had been bleeding for a long while. And my shoulders and back ached with pain. I was apprehensive when I touched my face and looked at my fingers, for there had been no blood to behold. In the back of my mind, I pondered whether there was a possibility I might be bleeding to death, but I did not feel faint, so I assumed my pondering to be frivolous.

I silently wish that I knew just an estimation of how long I had been in this excruciatingly dreadful place. How long I had been trapped in such a place filled with the decay, sorrow, anguish, and other such suffering of the world of dead souls surrounding me. It has taken so much from me; I am not quite sure I know who I am anymore… I do not even know how I look. I have not seen my reflection since before I had even gotten back to Kong. I must be in a deplorable state. Now, I felt like a lifeless body, just wandering the bowels of Hell. I do not remember the emotion of my memories before, and I cannot remember how to show emotion with facial expressions. I'm just a puppet, hanging from thin strings, just waiting to be tossed and quickly forgotten.

I try to brush out my hair once in a while with my fingers, and occasionally try to brush off as much dirt and grime as I can. At first, I just wiped my face off with my shirt, but being as both sides of my clothing were dirty and barely clinging to my body, I did not try anymore. No one cares what I look like down here, but I hate feeling so dirty. My shirt now covers my bosom, and barely makes it down to my belly button. There is only one part of sleeve left from where I had torn it before, and it is barely hanging onto my shoulder. My trousers have so many holes, and are ripped and torn to a point where they just hang off my legs, and cover me as if they''re only shorts, but I do not want to waste energy in trying to pull off the ripped cloth, so I leave it dangling about me.

I am always left to wonder why it is I have not starved to death by now, or died of thirst. I must look like a skeleton –my cheeks feel hollowed in. I can see my ribs when I look them over to check for damage, and my hips protrude in an almost gut-wrenching manner. Of course, I did know that stress can cause one to loose weight besides just starving, but that still did not explain why I never felt the need for hunger, and only ever felt thirst, but never died of it.

I had come up with a couple theories for it. I had nothing better to do anyhow. First of all, I think that time is completely nonexistent in Hell. From what I have observed, it does not seem to happen. This would explain why I have never been hungry since finding myself here. I also theorize that some power, some entity, must use the craving for thirst as just another torture device. What a better way to always make sure every soul in Hell is suffering than by making them feel as if they are dying of thirst when this place is already so much more hot than any place in the mortal world. It was sort of brilliant, in a sadistic and cruel way. My stress explained why I had lost weight, and worked for my theory, but I also think I am so skeletal because it seems as though I have still been aging. My hair has grown, and my body has widened as a woman's would, but not much, though I would probably have more curves if I had a healthy weight, which I am sure I do not. It is just bone –sickening to touch. I feel like if someone tried to hold me, I would snap in half. Of course, down here I do not want anyone or anything to touch me, at all… ever. It may be that I age because I am still a mortal being… not yet dead and yet so very close to being so. I am still bound to the mortal world… but that's all I have left… just my body.

Demons, those horrid creatures filled your worst nightmares, and not even then are they comprehendible by most. Many of the unholy beasts take on the form of creatures found on the world. I have seen them take the form of dogs –they are dogs that fill your dreams with dread and try to taint your very soul, though that was what all demons did. These dogs though, when you see them, they do not look quite like dogs. They have pointed ears, almost like horns you see Satan pictured with. The pictures of Satan- the drawings and nonsense filled descriptions –they were nothing compared to the real Satan. I was utterly shocked by it. He was not ugly, or disgusting, or even red. No horns, no pointed teeth, no unbecoming details at all were to be found. In fact, he was absolutely stunning. The most magnificent being I had ever laid my eyes upon; it almost blinded me, how stunning that devil was… but, the incomprehensible beauty only made him all the more frightening and deadly. I knew he knew I was here, and I thanked the Heavens that he had decided to pass me by and possibly tend to more sinister matters than a young, frail girl.

The dogs, I call them the BakeInu. The BakeInu are always black silhouettes, like the rest of the demons, no matter how the light touched them. I always hate some of the things the BakeInu and the BakeNezumi, the demon rats, seemed to find the utter-most joy in. They enjoyed intruding my dreams. I hated it. If ever I drifted off, I would usually sleep dreamlessly, but other times, I would find myself awake and unable to move, and wherever I had been when I fell unconscious would be more hazy than usual, and very dark. I could only move my head, and the BakeInu or BakeNezumi would appear, and seeing them sent shivers up my spine. I could see it in their eyes –their intention and utmost want to kill me. I was thankful though, for they could not harm me in my dreams. They could only ever scare me, and if they did touch me, all I would feel is a pressure where they had touched me. Much better than being beaten.

I had at one point been attacked so brutally that my arms had been slashed, my palms were burned, my stomach was twisting, and I could not get enough air. I had believed that was to be it; that I was going to die, but they let me suffer instead. I knew they were probably just snickering at my lifeless form and enjoying my pain, but I was too weak to try to take away their satisfaction at the time. That was when I knew it would only get worse from there, and that from this point on, every beating would only cling to me and painstakingly drag me closer and closer to the dark pit of death.

Apparently, today, or whatever they called a certain moment in time, it looked as though I would not be granted mercy, but when was I ever, here… The demons had gathered, and one of the larger ones grabbed me by my hair and pulled me out into view. They dragged me for what felt like half a mile, stopping at a ledge close to one of the walls close to where I had found myself the first day I had arrived here. I was thrown onto the hard, ragged ground close to the wall and it cut at my thighs, delivering the first scent of fresh blood since the last time they had been here to hurt me. I very quickly discovered that I was the only being in the whole of Hell who bled, which actually made much sense since I was the only living mortal down here. They cut at my arms every which way, and now my skin was covered with sleeves of blood. They whipped my back and limbs and kicked at my sides, whilst I bit into my lip and did my best not to react. One beast attacked my already bruising face, and the pain that shot through me overwhelmed my senses; I could not hold back a shriek, and they attacked me more fiercely, so I bit down on my lip again to try to distract my body from the pain and concentrate on the teeth biting down on my lip, which was starting to break the skin. I felt something hard hit the back of my head, and the sound it made was sickening. I could feel the blood coming down my neck; it was hot. My heart was growing weaker with each blow and I was struggling for breath. I knew this was it –I was going to die. My body could not handle this abuse anymore. I felt myself give way, no longer able to hold my body stiff, and I became limp, like a ragdoll.

As soon as my body gave way, the beating got less intense, and eventually they all left. At this point I could not even hear the shrill shrieks and wallowing pain of all the suffering souls in Hell anymore. All I could hear was the shallow, painful expanding and shrinking of my lungs as air was sucked in and pushed out. Every time I breathed in, my throat made a wispy, dry wheezing noise, and breathing out was painful. I turned onto my side so blood from my nose would not drown me, and felt my entire body groan with the effort; my stomach felt very twisted and uncomfortable. My throat began to itch, so I started to cough violently, and blood sputtered out of my mouth, onto my already blood-dyed shirt. By the time I had fallen unconscious, I had already been lying in a pool of dark red; my body was painted with it.

"Noodle…nnu…Noodle…ndl…wer r ya….Are ya here, gurly…?"

I could hear a voice… That voice… it sounded so… familiar. Where have I heard that voice before… And… noodle? What is a noodle… Wait… Is that… I think that's my name… I have not heard my name in such a long time. I groaned, not wanting to awaken. I had just been asleep, but it was the most comfortable sleep I'd had in a while. There was no pain, no suffering anymore. Please, silence the noise. I do not want to wake up anymore. I finally feel safe… let the darkness come. I am ready to die. Please don't take this away… I only want to sleep…

Just as I hadn't wanted, my body became aware of what was going on around me, and I started to twitch; I was still in pain and bleeding, but it was only a little now. I moaned, and I tried to open my slightly, but it was hard as they were crusted in blood. I rubbed the dried blood away and began to look around. Every tiny move enticed another groan from my lips and just moving onto my arms to try to sit up and look around took away my breath. I have no more fuel; one more beating even remotely close to that and I am sure I will not survive… I do not even know how I am still alive… That is… I think I'm still alive.

I moved a hand to my chest, slightly below my bosom, and sighed when felt the beating of my heart against my ribcage… but just barely. It was so faint; maybe I am just imagining it. Then I realized I was still breathing… Hai, I must be alive, but only just.

When I looked behind me, I could see an all too familiar silhouette. Now, I do not know each demon specifically, but I knew it was a demon… At least I think it is… All the demons have dark, featureless bodies… but… this one… it was far away, and thankfully looked as if it were moving away from me… but, it looked… the way it was shaped, it looked almost… human-like… Was this one I have not seen before? And… where was that voice… I was so sure I had heard a voice… Where did it come from?

I saw the demon that looked like a human; he… it looked like it was searching for someone. Whoever it was searching for, it must really want them. I could, even from this far, see its head turning every other direction and make many more movements of questionable proportion, but it did not have any importance to me anymore, so I looked away. I now looked down at my hands, rested on my lap. They were sore, and covered in cuts and blood.

As I stared blankly, I suddenly felt a slight and cool breeze brush over my body, but my hair did not move as it was soaked thickly in drying blood. Though, the chill caught my attention none the less. I have not felt anything so cold in… I cannot even remember anymore. It is always so hot, I have sort of gotten used to it. The breeze brought with it the delicious smell of fresh air –air not filled with agony and billions of tortured souls. I stood up to my full height, almost losing my balance, and I closed my eyes. I could feel another breeze, so I moved about ten feet, turning so the wind was hitting my face and I opened my eyes quickly. I stood face-to-face with a rock wall, but I could still feel the breeze, so I reached forward and touched the hot wall, but it was solidly there. I looked from side to side, then slowly, I looked up and saw the most wonderful thing I had ever laid eyes upon. Above me, there was light, and not from the fires of Hell; I could tell because it was pure and white and so inviting. I felt so overjoyed; I wanted to smile, but I do not think I remember how to control my face muscles. Every inch of my body wanted to climb up this wall and see where this heavenly light invaded from, but I am so tired, and the wall is so hot.

Finally, after a long time of only staring, I decided to rip parts of my already torn trousers off, and wrapped the cloth around my bare feet. My shoes, I had left them behind a long time ago –they were too small, and too worn to provide any use. I took more fabric and wrapped it over my palms, my fingers and toes would have to suffer, otherwise I would not get enough support. If I was going to do this, it had to be fast –if I were caught, death would be inevitable. I had to climb fast and set my feelings of pain aside. I need to dig deeper than I ever had before and find the strength within me to accomplish this feat when I am already running on empty for life, but I can do it.

I stepped forward hesitantly, and looked up. It was maybe twenty feet up, but the path had many places to grab onto. It was rock-climbing, but with no harness –I have done that before, I could do it now. With a shaky breath, I reached out with both hands and grabbed onto the wall, pulling myself up and feeling around with my feet, pulling them as close to my chest on the wall as I could –I am glad that I am still abnormally flexible. Anyways, I pushed myself up with my legs and moaned under my breath. It was so hard, and the stretching made the pain intensify.

I shook out the pain and had to grab up onto more rocks far above me, my legs screamed in protest but I refused to give in. Every step and push and pull was like a knife jabbing into my stomach and whichever limb I had used. I pushed up again with my legs and whimpered –my stomach felt like it was on fire and my upper abdomen hurt terribly, but I reached up again with a moan, and pulled my legs up. I pushed yet again, my eyes had been closed for a couple of minutes, so I had to feel where my body was moving. It kind of made it easier and less nerve-wracking. With yet another push upwards, I felt myself lose my balance and start to fall backward –my eyes shot open –and my hands instinctively reached out to grab whatever was in front of me, but I was astounded to find that there was nothing. I could not see because it was too bright, and I used my arms to punch and throw my body weight forward, which worked, but now I fell forward. I was hurled forward and sure that I would be falling back down, back to where I started, and the fall would kill me, but instead, my stomach met what felt like a low wall and I fell over it, stumbling down as if I were tumbling down a hill that was made out of dirt and various metallic objects.

I had flipped almost twice before I came to a stop, and my eyes were still trying to adjust. I saw something over by a wall and I crawled toward it. It was… I do not know what it was but it was small so that I could barely crawl into it and I would likely not be seen, and it was big enough that once I was inside, I could relax against one of its walls and fall asleep. I was so overwhelmed right now. I was scared that the demons would find me and beat me for moving from where they had left me, I was satisfied that I could escape them for a sleep. I was worried that I would find myself lost, but I was curious as to what that last demon I saw was, and I was slightly dumbfounded at the fact that I could no longer feel the atmosphere I had gotten so used to around me anymore. I could breathe and actually get enough oxygen now, and I could not feel the agonizing suffrage of the souls around me. I could not even hear it, when it had always drowned me… where had I gone? I was almost tempted to go back; this strange new place frightened me. I was not used to it. I was astounded at how cold it was here, and my body began to shiver violently. I held myself together tightly to try to keep warm while my eyelids became heavier and my body begged for sleep. I granted its wish by letting my body relax and allowing sleep to take over and pull me under into its peaceful and comforting abyss.

I awoke after what felt like a very long time, but stayed in my position to allow my eyes to adjust. It took a while, but eventually, I could look around and was stunned to find that the hole I had found and crawled into was a wooden box with a small opening. I crawled out and covered my eyes with the shadow of my hand for it was still too bright for me. My eyes grew wide and I gasped, falling onto my knees. I started pulling in shaky breaths and whimpering, and I realized that I was sobbing, but my eyes produced no tears.

I looked up again, afraid that this hallucination would disappear and I would wake up in Hell. I looked to my side and saw the Hellhole about fifteen feet from me, and I shuddered, silently vowing I would never go back. I had escaped from my nightmare… I was well and truly home…

I pulled myself onto my feet and began walking towards the metal staircase. Looking up, I realized this would take a lot out of me, but I could do it. I had survived and escaped Hell as a mortal, both ways, and this staircase is nothing compared to that. I held onto the railing tightly and lifted one shaky foot up onto the first step, pulling myself up, one at a time, and counting to myself, one step at a time, and resting for about ten seconds between each small fleet.

One… two… three… four… five…

Eventually, after a long and agonizing climb, I made it to a room, but did not go in. This was not the way out… there was a lift… this door led to… I think it was the storage room. And over there, I am sure that is the Room of Brian. I never understood that name.

My heart skipped a beat when I realized that I was so close to escaping the bunker, and I limped through the hallways, using the wall as support. I flinched when there was a flashing light, but as soon as it had appeared, it was gone. I looked around, terrified, but when nothing else happened, I decided to move on. When I made it to the bunker lift, I pulled myself onto it, and decided it would be best to sit on my bottom while it went up, or I might fall down and… I did not even want to think about that.

I sighed when I heard the tune coming from the contraption and echoing off the metal walls. This was the first music I had heard in a very long while and I became sad when the beat ended and I had to get up. I limped into the car park and felt my spirits climb higher and higher until I reached the win… win-ne-bay-go. Yes, I remember, it is called the Winnebago. I opened the door, forgetting the one rule I had been given about it, and climbed inside. It was very dusty and desolate, but the most obvious detail about it was that its occupant was nowhere to be seen. This place, it looked like it had been abandoned for months.

Confused, I carefully climbed back out of the vehicle and tentatively shut the door. I turned around and saw another wooden door that made my heart skip a beat. I walked slowly to the door with the words '2D's Room' scribbled carelessly on it, and walked inside. Right then my heart shattered. His entire room, everything in it was gone –save for his mattress. I was having a nightmarish flashback to when I had come back and there was nobody here, but now I knew something terrible had happened while I was away. There was nobody to be found. Knowing I had no tears to shed, I crawled onto 2D-kun's bed and curled into the fetal position. I could feel my body shaking spasmodically and I felt as though I was seizing.

For what felt like the thousandth or so time, my body shut down and I drifted off to sleep.

When I awoke again I got up quickly, my energy has been returning, but I still have a slight limp in my step. My first order of business would definitely be… my stomach gurgled, taking first on my list of things to do. Now was the first time I had felt hungry since… then. I slowly made my way to the lift and felt my body urge to dance when I heard the opening of my single, DARE. Oh, how I have missed this place.

As I made my way to the kitchen, I went silently and slowly. What met my vision led me to feel very depressed again. This place… my home… it looked like it had been burned; it was falling apart and barely standing. If there wasn't a hole somewhere then it was decorated in cracks and scars from fire and decay. What had happened while I was away?

After finding the emergency food in the kitchen and wolfing it down ravenously, my stomach gurgling in protest, I continued my tour through Kong. Everywhere looked much the same, and Russel-sama's room had been emptied as well. I took in a deep breath and released it slowly. I left the desolate room and wandered to my own. I prepared myself for the worst, but it still left me astounded. My room… there was a large hole in the wall… no, it was not even a wall anymore… it was just a gaping hole that mocked me. I went to my closet and saw Shaun, my robot head, covered in dust and cobwebs. I did not want to activate him.

I felt a spark of hope when I saw my rucksack and suitcase from when I was in the Maldives; and my guitar-case and my music, everything that had been dear to me was here. I spotted my old bed frame –without a mattress –leaning up against the wall, and I walked over to it, remembering one very important detail about this old frame. I reached around it, feeling for a small opening and, once I had found it, I reached in grabbed onto a squishy, flat, and square-shaped object. My wallet.

I was about to put it in my pocket, but when I looked down, I saw the tattered, blood-dyed remains of the ragged clothing on my body and decided my next order of business would definitely be to get cleaned up. I pulled out an emergency medical case on the wall behind Shaun and went back over to my suitcase. I knelt down and unzipped it, pulling out a plain t-shirt, and some pajama bottoms, along with a thin sweater –I did not want to wear my jeans right now, they would open up my wounds.

I found my way to the lavatory with my medical kit and clothing in tow, but dropped them as soon as I saw a horrible, gut-wrenching creature staring back at me. I could not stand the horrible sight and I quickly brought my hand to my mouth and ran to the toilet, retching into the porcelain bowl of water. As soon as I was sure my fit was over, I stood back up, my body was twitching. I walked back over to the mirror and had to use the counter as support so I would not pass out, and I held my stomach's weary reaction as best as I could. This girl –this woman –standing before me looked to be dead. There was no skin to be seen, covered in the thick blood of my worn body. My hair was even a colour of blood, though slightly purple. I could see all the cuts that marked my neck and shoulders and back, and everywhere on my body. I was confident that most were shallow and not leave scars, but they were still a sight to look at.

With a sigh, I stripped down to my bare, naked body and walked onto the cold, tile floor of the large bathtub and shower. I sat down on one of the benches- it was like a jacuzzi with a showerhead. Anyhow, I turned the water on so that it was a comfortable hot temperature on my skin and I watched as the water grasped to my body, then started to slide down, carrying the inky, red blood with it. The blood swirling down the drain mesmerized me; I watched as it twisted and turned until being sucked down the drain. Quickly, I grabbed the shampoo and used much of it on my hair, massaging it deep into my scalp. It does not surprise me that no one bothered to turn off the water that came to Kong, or that nobody bothered with taking the cleaning products when they left.

I scrubbed myself down with body wash, being careful around my cuts, and decided it was time for a long overdue shave. I stepped out of the shower, still naked, and quickly went to the cupboard by the mirror, carefully avoiding my reflection, and I grabbed a new razor. After I was back under the relaxing water I removed all the hair of my underarms and my legs, feeling slightly better. I finished washing out my hair with conditioner and was in awe with how soft it was, but now that it was free of dried blood, I could see how long it had become –almost halfway down my back, and I had no fringe on my forehead to speak of. I looked at it –it was now lighter, almost an azure colour- but still slightly purple. Kind of an indigo colour. I let the thought go and continued lavishing my body with amazing scents and warm water. I never wanted to leave, but as soon as my skin started to prune, I sighed and decided it was time to get out. I turned off the water and climbed out, reaching for a towel to wrap around my body.

I dried myself quickly and pulled my hair into a bun while it dried –I would deal with it later. I placed my towel on the toilet seat and sat down on it, reaching for my medical kit I had subconsciously placed on the counter while getting a razor. I opened it and put it on the stool next to me. I lightly dabbed at all the cuts and slashes, using medical tape and bandaging to dress them after I'd applied a cream to reduce inflammation and prevent scars, though I knew there was a couple slashes on my back and shoulders that would inevitably produce a couple of scars no matter how hard I tried to prevent it. I did not care though. What was a scar to me if it meant I could live? …it was just a badge of honour, a marker of courage, and a symbol of my suffering.

After I had finished with my body, it was time to deal with my face. Luckily, I had already seen that there was only a couple small scratches and my nose had not been broken; it felt only bruised. I closed my eyes when I reached the mirror and took in a deep breath, then released it. I almost retched again when I saw my face. It was so… it was not me… it could not possibly be me.

But it was.

This bruise. It was awful. Horrible. An abomination. I hated my face. The bruise –it took up all of the right side of my face, and part of the left, going over my nose, and down my neck and shoulder. And my cheeks were so hollow, and my ribs and hips were sickeningly skinny. I would definitely have to put some weight on. I was a revolting sight to look at, but I bore with it while I cleaned the small cuts on my face. The colour of the bruise was a sickening dark red mixed with purple and dark blue. The bruising was so dark around my eyes that if I closed them, I would look like 2D-kun.

Once I was clean, I changed into my clothes. I looked back at the mirror and figured now was as good a time as any to deal with my hair. I dug through the cabinet below the sink and found one of the emergency knives, Russel-sama called it. It was for if zombies somehow broke in and I needed a weapon. For now, though, I pulled it close to my face and examined it. Next I tested it by seeing how easily it could cut a small bundle of my hair, and it took a bit of effort, but I liked the choppy, messy look it left my hair with. One by one, I grabbed bunches of hair and began carving through it, leaving many bundles uneven and extremely choppy and layered, but I liked my hair this way. I looked in the mirror the entire time to make sure I was pointing the knife in the right direction and grabbing a good amount of hair in all the right places. Once I was finished, I gathered the hair all up as best as I could and I threw it away. Looking in the mirror once more, ignoring the ghastly bruise, I was satisfied with my haircut. Now proper and feeling good, I went back down to eat again. I was feeling much more like… like what? Myself? I am not even sure what myself would feel like –so I felt better. Much better.

I went back up to my room and gathered my things from my closet and eventually got them all into the lift, and I pressed the location of where I wanted to go. Clearly I could not stay in my own room, so I would have to stay in another. Once I had gotten my only possessions into 2D-kun's former bedroom I went in search of blankets and sheets, which I found in his closet, along with a couple of boxes. I was tempted to look through them, but they did not belong to me, so I left them, and made my new bed –pillows and blankets and all. The room was completely bare, but I did not care. I would only be staying here for a short while I hoped. But now, I would have to stay here while I spent my time looking for my family.

Time…

Time? How much time had passed while I was away? It was around September of 2006 when I had been stolen from the mortal world. When was it now?

I scoured 2D-kuns… my room for 2D-kun's old digital calendar. I know he did not care for it. Murdoc-san had thrown it at his face in one of his drunken fits and 2D-kun decided to keep it. I reached under the bed and my fingers brushed against the object of my searching. I pulled it out and stood up before daring to look at it. The stupid thing could not tell me the day, but from what I could read it said it was March… of 2009!

Three years!… It had almost been three whole years since I was gone… No wonder they gave up on me… I… I cannot believe… that I had been there for two-and-a-half years. It… it is.. not possible…

I must find them… they must believe I am dead… I feel like I should be… But where do I even begin to look?

READ ME!

So, I like these two songs, but figured some people might get annoyed if I posted the lyrics, so I posted them below. They go sooo well with Noodle's mood and situation, and I'm sure my readers would agree. The songs are:

Hide and Seek – by Imogen Heap

Disarm – by Smashing Pumpkins

You should listen to them on Youtube, or wherever you find them…

Hide and Seek

Where are we?
What the hell is going on?
The dust has only just begun to fall
Crop circles in the carpet
Sinking… feeling

Spin me round again
And rub my eyes,
This can't be happening
When busy streets amess with people
Would stop to hold their heads heavy

Hide and seek
Trains and sewing machines
All those years
They were here first

Oily marks appear on walls
Where pleasure moments hung before the takeover,
The sweeping insensitivity

Of this still life

Hide and seek
Trains and sewing machines (oh, you won't catch me around here)
Blood and tears (hearts)
They were here first

Mmm what you say, Oh that you only meant well? Well of course you did
Mmm what you say, Mmm that it's all for the best? Of course it is
Mmm what you say? Hmm that it's just a-what we need? And you decided this?
Ooh, what you say
Hmm what did she say?

Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth
Mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cutouts (paper word cutouts)
Speak no feeling no I don't believe you (I don't buy it)
You don't care a bit, you don't care a bit

Disarm

Disarm you with a smile
And cut you like you want me to
Cut that little child
Inside of me and such a part of you

Mmhmhm, the years burn
Oohoho, the years burn

I used to be a little boy
So old in my shoes
And what I choose is my choice
What's a boy supposed to do?
The killer in me is the killer in you
My love
I send this smile over to you

Disarm you with a smile
And leave you like they left me here
To wither in denial
The bitterness of one who's left alone
Oohoho, the years burn
Oohoho the years burn, burn, burn

I used to be a little boy
So old in my shoes
And what I choose is my voice
What's a boy supposed to do?
The killer in me is the killer in you
My love
I send this smile over to you

The killer in me is the killer in you
Send this smile over to you (x3)