Tuesday, 3 April 2012

Todd's final words: Fuck you all.

It's dry out here. That's the only way I can describe it. No food, no water. It's not even particularly hot or cold here. There is no temperature to speak of. All I can feel is hate. I never wanted it to be like this. This would be the part where I would say "I don't blame you," but I do. Fixing this could have been as easy as popping a zit. That's all Grov is. That's all it would have felt like to Spencer. He could have crushed Grov with two fingers, and made life so much better for the rest of us. But no, Spencer chose us all for a goddamn reason. Well, I hope you'll be able to find a good replacement for me, you sick shit.

I really should get over that. But it's too late now. Even if I wanted to live, finding my way out of here? Impossible. And the blood loss isn't gonna help matters much.

What was Spencer's #1 rule? Don't go into the East Wing. Strike 1. If I made it out of here, he'd kill me.

Jumping in during a particularly strong loop? Strike 2. No one's gonna be crazy enough to come in and get me.

Cutting your ear off with a stolen scalpel? Strike 3. I'll bleed out by the time anyone would find me.

Why am I typing all this? Stalling, most likely. My battery's about to die. Any last words from the boys?

Grov says fuck you. And by 'you' he means me. Fuck you too, buddy.

Sybil's crying. Good. I hope you'll be able to hear that. The echoes of a crying dead child. This is gonna be the second time he dies, if you think about it.

I'm gone. I'll say hi to August for all of you. If we're going to the same place, that is.

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