Choking Game Read Online Free PDF Page B

to make peace with one another. I wish you listened. No matter how much I scream, you choose to ignore me. I am at a disadvantage because I have no hands I can use to smack you or legs I could kick you with. I'm but an inner voice trapped deep within you, a voice that whispers or shouts at you and never leaves, no matter how much you want me to. How did we separate? It seems we grew so much apart, it's like we do not even belong in the same being. It's sad, especially now that you want to end this life. I honestly want to understand you better. Will you let me? Will you answer my questions?~
    "Whatever."
    ~That's good enough for me. Why was it so important for you to know how Stanley died?~
    "Wouldn't you wanna know? Imagine you found out someone you really cared about died. The first thing you'd ask would be How? Don't you think?"
    ~Probably.~
    "Of course you would. Isn't it what everyone asks? In order to believe someone is dead, you must know how and when. That's the only thing that marks the real end. Especially if the end was not supposed to happen."
    ~What do you mean it was not supposed to happen?~
    "Are kids or teens supposed to die?"
    ~Oh.~
    "You see what I'm getting at? If someone who's young suddenly dies, you know something went wrong. And the less you know about what it was, the more desperate you are to find out. It could be an accident, suicide, even murder. He could have died instantly, not so quickly or even suffered something unimaginable. You simply must know because that not knowing can drive you crazy. You start imagining the worst, the most horrible death there is, and once you imagine the most horrible death there is, even the worst possible kind springs to mind. That's how insanity gradually sucks her tentacles onto your mind, slowly pulling you even deeper into the darkness of your soul. Your vivid imagination is all you’ve got left, and you begin to believe your worst nightmares."
    ~Is that what happened to you? And, by the way, you really think I'm dark? Oh, my gosh, that's mean! Why would you say the darkness of your soul? ~
    "Honestly, I don't know. People say that a lot."
    ~Well, that's a pretty irresponsible statement, especially considering most people have no idea what a soul is.~
    "Maybe they don't, but I think I do."
    ~Seriously? Indulge me, please!~
    "It's my irritating inner voice that never leaves or shuts up no matter how many times I ask to be alone . It's my subconscious self that lurks in my sleep and waking hours. It's the ethereal being that is nowhere and everywhere inside and around me. It's my companion, my enemy, and my conscience all in one."
    ~I'm not sure I like your description of me, but I don't hate it either. So, not knowing what happened to Stanley must have really done a number on you.~
    "Yeah. I spent all night wide awake thinking every possible horrible thing that could have happened. I believed the worst so much, I cried as if I was the one who died. My mind kept replaying Stanley's death over and over until I believed I was mad. I wasn't the only one thinking like that. There were others going through the same thing. I saw all kinds of posts people were posting. So many questions, almost no answers."
    ~What do you think is the color of insanity? ~
    "It's not one color. It's many colors whirling together. There are so many colors, you can't tell them apart. As soon as you think you recognize one, it turns into something else. You try to concentrate on which color makes the most sense, but they're all there, twisting and swirling around in one wild, crazy mess."
    ~When did you guys finally learn about what happened to Stanley?~
    "A couple of days later we were told he killed himself at home. So we thought it was a suicide. We still didn't know how. It wasn't until another day passed that we finally learned the truth."
    ~I know. I must have come out of my own blur. I remember so little, and what's even worse, I remember almost none of your anxiety. It's wild how you