There was a tiny corner in his brain. Behind his thoughts, memories. A cold spot, clear and remorseless as sunlight. He did not want to go there. In there was the voice of Reason. An icy, unsympathetic tone telling him what he did not want to hear. As his body suffered and tore itself apart he felt himself being dragged along the neural pathways to this place. No, no, he wept. You mustn't! You can't!
You're insane. You're a petulant, stupid, self-serving child. Your cousin was right to do what he did, why can't you accept it? The bile you sprayed on others, the efforts you took to break every single rule in the book. He warned you, you can't say he didn't.
You are only hurting yourself. You are killing yourself – and for what? For -
"Shut up!" Jamie cried aloud. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"
Are you going to wait until you die? Do you want to die? Do you think, really think, they don't care? Your father, Elizabeth -
Elizabeth! Her image filled his tortured mind. The only person who had showed him the slightest love in his life. He knew what they all thought. They hated him, all of them, especially Cartwright and his kin. So he returned the hatred and behaved as badly as he possibly could so they would hate him more. Oh, God! Why couldn't you have created me insane!
But maybe she would mourn him. Maybe a little. He became surer and surer he would die and he tried to adjust his mind to it. His stay on earth had been a short one and a painful one -
That voice! And all this because of a little spanking! You are, you truly are a complete lunatic. You're worthless. You're -
"Oh, shut up," Jamie moaned. "Why can't you shut up and leave me alone?"
- a silly spoilt child. Boo-hoo! No wonder no-one likes you! Did you never wonder about that? Why no-one likes you, let alone loves you? Because you're unworthy of it! Your problems are nothing, you're just -
Jamie clenched his fist and smote his head over and over again. The only thing that eventually stayed his hand was the fear that he would mark his brow and the others would ask him about it. Not that they cared, of course, but they might be curious. He didn't want their attention. He wanted them to ignore him so he could occupy himself with his main ambition. To die.
