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Your Story - Chapter 8: Reprise
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Chapter 7: Prayer
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Chapter 9: Storyteller
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... me. I think fondly of him. And he's my salvation.
He doesn't exist. To be more precise, he exists only in my fantasy. He's a convenient illusion my oxygen-deprived brain created on long, sleepless nights. Yet this illusion began to steadily take on a more defined shape, and soon became an irreplaceable friend to me.
He has no name. Because if I gave him a name, it would only make it clearer that he doesn't exist. I simply referred to him as "him." "He" was my only childhood frien ...
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