It was all muddled up.
He laughed mirthlessly, trying to remember, trying so, so hard to remember, but all in vain. He couldn't. All that came up was a series of blurred-out photos.
A willow tree. A pretty face. A train. A candle. A house shrouded in flames. A knife. A scream. Darkness.
It was all tinged black around the edges and fuzzy in little places, too. It didn't make sense.
He was living in blurs, now, and he couldn't seem to straighten his life up.