I don't know how long I've been here.

Time has no meaning here.

Nothing has meaning here.

The first thing I remember is waking up in Alone. Not knowing how I got here, or where I was, or who I was.

Already the Unreality had taken ahold of me.

Slowly it came back, bits and pieces of my life before. My parents, my sister. My run-down home in South Chicago. My name, Claire. That was the last thing I remembered.

And I remembered starting the fire that killed my parents.

I think I went mad after that. Hard to tell. There is a fine line between sanity and madness here.

I've seen no one since I got here. Not a soul, not a whisper of life. Just me, and my guilt.

Maybe I'm not even really here. Maybe I'm dead, and this is hell.

But hell would be better than this.

The End

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