A Self-Study Within A Broken Mind

Past the Thanksgiving weekend, I sat once more at the device with an idea derived from six hours of waiting for someone to open the door to where I lived. It was a three-step plan for dealing with Kara. I hoped the third step would not be necessary. If the first step worked, I would not need the rest. It was more of a one step plan with two contingencies in case of failure. It was a real if-then-if-then-if-then scenario, with the last “then” drawing a blank. In programming, that would error out, but here it was the last line of defense, the third “if” being the exterminating final bullet to the problem Kara presented. I entered the library almost confident. I would be throwing emotions I had to field from Tarne back at Kara. I was interested in seeing how she felt after getting comfortable with the kid. It broke my heart. Maybe it could melt the ice around Kara’s wounded one. All she could see now was anger for what happened to James at the hands of someone very much gone. When I got u...

Now at the new notebook, of shade green, I sat at my morning coffee pondering how I could best approach Rebecca’s space and talk to her rather than fight. I had this feeling that a duel was inevitable, a struggle between the two of us comparing who could better bend her space to their will. What could she do that I wasn’t prepared for? Did Crimmy, like beast, think up dark imagery of torture and torment for Rebecca? Time drew short before work, and if I was to be stuck in this space, this notebook, I’d have to resolve it quickly. With a sharp breath, I entered Rebecca’s space high above the neighborhood. She expanded the few houses to about thirty, and each had a light on while the sky was still dark. The realistic sun simulation mirrored my reality in darkness. I was without form, but thanks to the dumb child part of my mind, Rebecca was already aware that I was there. Hopefully, she had no idea where, but when the library house exploded, I knew that she was waiting there for me. It ...