*The next time I play a video game though, I am looking for an interesting plot. Here is a work of fiction that could be equivalent of perhaps some internal dialogue of a main character? Anyways...
Chapter One: The Inner Sanctum
I wish I could tell you that this was eventually going to get easier, but as you know the memories of other pain that you have carried with you are still present. My biggest regret is the tightness you feel in your chest every single time you take a breath. I know how much you love to run, but that subtle something has been keeping you from being able to do your best.
I used to think that you didn't have a soul, because I have seen how hard you have tried to kill any form of empathy for those you feel are trodden upon. I know that this is only because the weight you carry around is often times too heavy to carry by yourself. Yet you continue to do so anyway; perhaps it makes you feel as though you are a martyr? I wonder if this is somehow a mechanism by which you punish yourself?
I have been wrong a lot in this relationship that we have had over the years. I have felt the darkness seeping through the cracks, as light does from an illuminated room one would glance at while in a dark hallway. Through the years I have seen you take on many a persona; wearing masks only you could wear so well. Perhaps that is why you see through people so easily, and I know it to be so that your thoughts on this matter are firmly held in place to keep people at a distance.
You have done nothing but focus on the past. Yet somehow I have seen you move forward from everything that has happened, as though it doesn't bother you a single bit. Of course anyone who has been let into your interconnected web of deceit, sees right through one mask and into another. It is why you prefer contact with people in the manner that you carry yourself; one on one.
There is a light at the end of this weary tunnel though, and I have seen that glimpse of happiness dance in your eyes. As though you knew something all along that you have even left me unaware of. I suppose that is the price one has to pay once they have been bestowed upon the curse of being ones own puppeteer. A dismal fool with no attachment to anything at all, not even ones own body. Perhaps that is why you never sleep?
I can see you there sitting across the room, looking deeply into nothingness; having a conversation with the spirits in the room. Whispering your lament into the world, haunted by what you have become in order to fulfill some kind of mysterious vendetta. Some would say that you are self destructive, but I know in fact the very opposite to be true. You are the master of what you convey, and there is never even the slightest of deviations in your actions.
Plotting to sever all ties with anything that has any form of ability to hurt your frightened inner child. I know that if I had the ability to look into your mind I would see him sitting there. His red eyes aglow, looking absolutely vulnerable with an enticed desire lurking just beneath the surface. You have coddled this child, and made him akin to everything he could have ever wanted, and unfortunately he has grown spoiled. He rejects the very fabric of any space time that could lead him into any form of conclusion or consequence.
This is the true you. The you who is waiting in darkness for a glimpse of happiness, and when that feeling goes away, there is nothing left but time to grow impatient. The need for one more illusion from your logical self, one without absolute judgement, the kind of judgement that comes from within; internalized by some form of logical code of morality which is absent from true justice.
I have seen you walk a very fine line between insanity, and sanity, and I have seen you make the same decision an innumerable amount of times; to stay in control. It is that hard edged underlying fact that makes you the predictable venomous creature you have become. Satiated only by this internalization, this slow replay of memories on your own private slide projector, injesting and injecting the memories of only the good. Yet inside of that beast lives another, which feeds only on the direct opposite emotions that your inner child has grown to feed off of.
The entity that lives inside of him craves only destruction and despair, which is the consequence of his naivety. That naivety of course being directly correlated to the content of the material which has sustained him. These supposed people in your past who have eventually surpassed how much you hate yourself with some form of love that has been created. A love that bursts freely from those that care about you and still do, one that has learned to be rejected. For I fear that the very darkness in humanity lies in this convoluted pandora's box of emotional torture. Once attained this insanity seeks out something more, what can I have that is better now that I think I have had the very best?
Why is it that your inner child has been corrupted by that which you thought would become the only thing that could save him? As I have just explained to you, beknownst to your ability to block out anything that could potentially stop the cycle of distance, and hatred that you have inflicted upon yourself, there is only one true way to end this.
It is not by becoming the dark desire in the heart of the child that lies within your subconcious. Even though you have nothing but that thought consume you at any given moment. That little itch in the back of your skull which has been burried so deeply that not even I can go there to let him free.
No, this is not a mistake which can be cured by the letting of blood. It is time to go back to that haunted place in your past. It is time to let your inner child understand that what has been done to him cannot be explained. Not everything happens for a reason. Perhaps then, such a glimpse of who he would have become should he have not been locked away for all that time in his own amusement park of masochism.
All you need is the key. It has been placed nearby on the table in the same room where you look at yourself with nothing but hate and contempt. Yes, right there in the music box. The temptation of what could have been is too strong to resist, and I know you cannot deny that.
Maybe that is why you have made this final decision. One that I have been trying to stop you from doing ever since that child has seen nothing but forced imagery of fluffy bunnies underneath a magic rainbow. One that you can only make yourself.
It is time. I am going to relinquish this control over you, I will not udder another sound, another manipulative projection of myself onto you. I am merely showing you what it is that you must do if you wish to escape.
The consequences of this action of course though will only be able to be inflicted upon the new self. The self that you perhaps have wished to become. Or perhaps a monster lying in wait to destroy everything that self could have been. This is the true secret you hid the key from your true conciousness. Those two hearts that beat within you, the one of light, and the one of darkness. Which will succeed in taking over?
No matter. It has already been done, and a new voice is starting to manifest itself. Goodbye, I have done everything I could for the old you. Now you are left with only me.