66: Making Things Right.

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TW // DEREALITY.

"Huh..? What—"

Before I knew it, Ethan.. he.. who was.. someone vanished right in front of me. I had said they hadn't existed. I knew that. That was a thought I had. A thought that was powerful enough to—to..

"What—what's happening? I don't understa—"

There was no one before me now. I only heard a disembodied voice from before me, becoming muffled behind some sort of static—like it was being distorted just from every word.

I began to hear grunting—wincing. They had been erased. That much I knew.

"..whats—it.. agh.. nnh.. help—"

The room that we had both been in vanished with a single blink of my eyes. The table was gone. The rug was gone. I wasn't sitting down anymore. I.. felt my limbs stiffly floating from beneath me, still unable to move for whatever reason. I couldn't speak a word still, and I couldn't move.

"Help..! Help me—" I heard the voice begin to cough, becoming more and more incomprehensible. I heard the sound of something banging. I felt my face being forced upward, yet no one was there. It felt like the voice was reverberating from all around me.

I only stared at the white, red, flashing void before me as silence filled the air again.

An echo of a voice then sounded again. "Help! Agh.. help!" It screamed at me from wherever it had been.

ETHAN DOE

ETHAN DOESN'T EXISTTTTT

ETHAAAAAÆ

"You.. you didn't do this to me, right? You couldn't have. You don't even have access to the story. I.." The voice whispered. And then desperately yelled. "Who's fucking doing this to me?! Why aren't you—why can't I—agh.. aghh..! Hh.."

Silence filled the air again. My eyes were wide. I could feel my heart beating. My heart—desperately drumming deep within my chest. My fake heart. My heart that was only written to be a part of me. For I was only a character. And yet a character I was determined not to be.

"..why.. why is this happening? I just—I just wanted to love you.. I wanted to be with you. I don't understand.. how could this happen to me..?! I did what I was supposed to. I went along with the story. I know I messed with things a little, but.." The voice paused, and it began to sound as if it were trembling.

"..why? Why, why, why—why?! I.. hhh.. please—don't.. don't let me die here.. please.. you're all I really have.. you're all I have left.." it pleaded in a whispered manner. "..please.."

I wasn't sure why the person who I got rid of was still able to talk. Or even able to do anything. They didn't exist anymore. I wrote them out.

"..please.. just stop reading. I don't think there's anything left for me. I don't know how to bring myself back. I tried, and it didn't.. aaghh.. hhn.. it didn't.."

I remained floating in the void of the space I was in. I stared—frozen.

What were they going to say next? Would they find a way to write themself back in? It was a miracle they weren't able to apparently, considering they could have easily just written that they existed again. And yet, somehow.. they were unable to. And I didn't even know how.

Luck was on my side, perhaps. That was the only answer I could think of. Or maybe it was something else. I didn't know. All I could hear from every side was weeping. Pitiful, masculine weeping that never ended.

I couldn't tell how long it was weeping for, before it sniffled, and spoke again.

"..what's.. I.. what have I done..?"

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