Are you angry at me? You haven't spoken to me for days. Six of them. I've counted. I'm sorry you're stuck here, and I'm sorry you're unhappy, and I'm sorry I can't tell you anything, but please don't blame me. I can't afford to not exist. You can understand that, can't you? I know it must be hard being away from home. I promised to get you back, didn't I? Let me... let me tell you a story.
A long time ago... yes, this place has time. It's okay if you don't pay attention. I know you must be feeling down. One of the people who came here, after Daniel, was a young lady named Serena. She was... interesting. All sorts of polite. She was incredibly different from Daniel, and I didn't really know what to do with her. I wanted to help her, just like I want to help you.
How did she leave? Let me finish the rest of the story first. It won't do for me to go out of order. I'll tell you as much as I can. Serena said many things to me. She taught me more about human emotion, which is how I can understand your... displeasure. She taught me about the things I can't have, like free will, and ambition, and love, and creativity. I learned a lot about humans.
What I actually know about Serena is very little. She was shorter than me, her hair was choppy and chocolate brown, and her eyes were as wide as saucers. She wasn't thin or thick, and really, she had no outstanding features. She was quiet, and calm, and rational, and intelligent. She was also very lonely.
Hm? Oh, do I have your attention now? Serena asked me lots of things. I didn't really have many answers for her. She left after asking me to read something. What was it? I can't say. Ah, you look disappointed again.
It's funny, how I risk my existence, and yet you don't understand what I'm offering you. Hm? Did I say something? No, nothing. Don't worry. You'll... you'll think of something, and you will leave, just as all the others have. No, don't worry about anything.
You're looking at me with that expression again, the one I hate to see. I wish I could do something to keep it off your face, but I can't tell you any more than I already have.
You haven't eaten recently. Anything you ask for remains untouched while you pace to and for. You haven't slept for days. I hate to see you destroy yourself like this. I hate to see you suffer... what more can I do? There's a funny feeling in my chest. I feel horrible for keeping you here. I want you to go back where you belong.
Should I let my existance slip for just a few words? At least you'll feel better. The Scribe warned me about this. The Scribe warned me not to get attached. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're suffering. What more can I do for you?
