Song: You are enough.
I just wanted to pop in, for yet another vent post. Well, not exactly a vent, no, but it is definitely something to help me feel less, alone. This would be the first time I go into detail about my memories so publicly, but I have no other outlet. And despite it being shunned, vulnerability isn't a weakness. It's the thing which reminds us we're human; that there is life and beauty within us. It's a desperately needed reminder for people like us, especially, who are at war with our own demons, and literal demons. This isn't the battlefield that it used to be anymore. But the danger is still very real, and very prevalent. When faced with these threats, it's difficult to focus on anything but survival. I have been on the battlefield countless times, and one thing is clear. There is not a single person who is not afraid, who does not feel guilt, whose life doesn't flash before their eyes. We are human. It's simpler to dehumanize us, to make us out to be lesser than, because then you don't feel guilty about hurting us, criticizing us, and killing us. This life is the most melancholic there is. This is war, and this is what war does to those caught in the crossfire. It ends lives, tears apart families and friends, and destroys entire worlds. It spits out broken people who have lost everything they held dear, gave their all, only to have nothing in the end. What was it all for? What was the point of so much sacrifice? That, my friends, is war.
I had many friends. People who were determined to make a change. People who were compassionate and full of life, ready to protect what they loved, to make sacrifice for what they believed was right. It is thanks to THEIR sacrifice that we are here, possessing these memories and this knowledge. It is thanks to them that we can breathe a sigh of relief, because we aren't in that horrible battlefield anymore. We were given a chance to carry on their legacy, to make a change. I don't know about you, but I want to do right by them. As my friends breathed their last, all they cared about was the safety of others. To progress, to make a difference, to go the extra mile. It seems futile now, but it wasn't all pointless. It wasn't all for nothing. They made a change, big or small. They influenced us as a people. They moved us to tears, showed us love and kindness, showed us human vulnerability and flaws. No, that wasn't all pointless.
Noah, Evan, Kevin, Brian, Tim, Alex, Alison, Steph, Anderson, Autumn, Ashlynn, Evelyn, etc etc etc. My friends, who SACRIFICED so much for us. And now they lead lives, free lives, in this timeline. Free of the monsters which lurked under their beds and in their closets. These memories are anything but a curse. They are living proof of their legacy, of their passion, of their amazing work, before it faded into a forgotten dream. I don't know where the originals are. I don't know. The ones in this timeline have no idea who they were. If you think about it even a bit, you'll start to realize, but wait. Those ARGs, I remember them differently. They were different, the storyline was different, what happened? It was real, and everyone accepted it as real, so what changed? Obviously, the Rift. But why was it something so, so terribly devastating? Every trace of our reality has been wiped from existence as if it was never there. The work of my friends, everything they had strived towards, is gone. And so are my friends. My family, the people I loved. It's not easy by any means to look at their faces and remember something entirely different. The pain they had to endure, the loss they experienced. They have no clue, not a single clue, and maybe I prefer it that way. But it's so incredibly hard not to miss them. Who they used to be, before the Rift changed them. The time that they remembered me and all of our hardships. I'm afraid of carrying this burden alone. I'm afraid of so many things. I'm afraid there is no way to bring it back. It will fade with the memories, become a forgotten dream. That world was our world. I will do everything in my power to keep it alive. My memories may be jumbled, mixed up, and blurry. But I will try.
Evan, I remember him as if it was yesterday. A quiet, but kind and considerate person. He was never afraid to stand up for what was right. It broke him. A part of him broke when Habit first wrecked everything. He had a blank stare, wouldn't sleep, eat, drink, talk, he sat against the wall for days like that, because I think deep down he knew, it wouldn't let him die. But he didn't care, not one bit, if he lived or died. Such a beautiful person, so full of kindness and good. I had never met someone as compassionate as he was. I met him as Habit the first time. It's such a contrast of personality. Evan was never sarcastic or dodgy, he was so down to earth and sincere. Habit was the opposite of everything he was. Nobody really talks about how raw the emotion truly was when Habit hurt people as Evan. Because people don't remember. All that's left is an ARG, which isn't even the original video series. Being around Evan was like being around a ticking bomb, and he knew it. It devastated him more than anyone else, because he knew he could never get close to anyone ever again. People would be afraid of him because of it. People would condemn him, resent him, blame him, for the actions that were out of his control. He was so isolated, so alone, most of his life. It was coincidence how I managed to befriend him. I used to resent him, but to be fair, Habit did chase me down an alleyway with a machete. Thinking back on it, I can't help but smile, because although it was absolutely terrifying in that moment, it was when I met one of my closest friends. Funny how circumstance brings people together. Habit lodged the machete just inches from my face in the wall, and I swear I cried a little, but not before impulsively throwing a kick at his shin while he dislodged the machete. It didn't hurt him, obviously, but the shock of me even having the guts to do that temporality froze him for a second, which let me dodge under his arm and run again. I mean, the man could "teleport" to anywhere I could have gone, but the chase was obviously more exciting to him. But he didn't come after me. I don't know why, I was too scared to think about it. Let me tell you just how terrifying Habit is, even in Evan's body. His eyes are full of something otherworldly and dangerous. That grin is wide in an uncanny way, his voice full of malice and a grunt I can't exactly pinpoint. His voice is the most frightening of all. He's sarcastic, grumpy, impatient, and very murderous no matter the circumstances. And funny. When you aren't on the verge of death, you can appreciate his humor. Anyway, the next day, I saw a man sobbing by the lake, cradling something in his arms. The lake water was very murky, I remember that detail for some reason. It was almost greenish when I went up to him. It was horrible to look at, the mutilated corpse. God. You couldn't even recognize the features anymore. It was a pile of flesh and bones. I think he was too, too far gone at the time to even care. The grief was so powerful, so raw, that I caught myself crying too. I watched him for a while, I couldn't even say anything. I had no words for the emotions he was showing. I almost didn't recognize that he had been Habit before, because his face was red from crying and screaming. I was used to seeing people like that on the street, in the forest, people who had lost everything. But for some reason, I felt what he felt. I started to sob at one point too, because the emotions were just so raw and so huge and loud, I couldn't stop myself. It was the most emotional crying session I ever had, and he didn't even notice. He was so focused on his loss, he had tuned out the rest of the world. After a long time, he quieted down, and he turned to me with eyes filled with distant recognition and tears. Who are you? I had no name at the time, because my memories from my childhood had washed away. I told him, I didn't remember. Staring at me with those narrowed eyes some more, he introduced himself as Evan. He held up the pile of flesh in his arms and said, Steph. I almost cried again, but one look at his face and I couldn't bring myself to. The life had completely drained from him. He was colorless, blank, although the memory of his face is very vague and blurry. I encountered him at the lake many times after that. I knew he had been Habit, but there was something about what I had seen that, drew me to him. I didn't see a monster anymore, I saw a broken man who desperately needed a friend. Habit would sometimes show up, taunt me, and that's how I earned my original nicknames "Rabbit." and "Bunny." I embraced them and soon they became my name. Bunny Rabbit. Evan was the first person who gave me an identity, a purpose, when I had none. It sounds silly to you, but it was so meaningful to me, a person left with no sense of self. Habit was an impulsive and chaotic force that I couldn't ever predict. He was as unpredictable as they come. Sometimes he would drag me to the most obsolete locations and leave me there to fend for myself, other times he would quietly stare, the rest of the time he was cracking dark jokes, pushing me and pulling me, dragging me by the hair, cupping my face, digging his nails into my back, but never anything which would kill me or cripple me. I think I tempted him a few times to bust my kneecaps, but I survived, ahaha. I think I was a way for him to keep Evan in check, keep him docile, but I don't think Evan was going to be much trouble after Habit had killed everyone. He had no motivation to fight. No reason to struggle anymore. Maybe crying with him that day changed something. Maybe I gave him hope he didn't otherwise have by sitting beside him by the lake every day. I had nothing to lose either. Evan was all I had, and I was all Evan had. During a time of great need and loneliness, we provided for each other. I don't know if Habit is even capable of forming emotional attachments. But for the sake of my sanity, I liked to believe he had a small ounce of humanity inside him. That a part of him could care and love. Then, one day, he stopped coming to the lake. I looked for him, by god I did, and in the end, I collapsed by the water, devastated. I cried like he had the first day we met. I didn't know at the time that in the next timelines, we would meet again. I thought I had truly lost him. The name he had given me, that identity, was all I had left of him.
Noah was different. He wasn't a very expressive or lively person. But he tried to do the right thing. He tried so hard, and in the end, couldn't save anyone. Slowly he was driven to an unstable state, impulsivity, and grief. It made way for him to become Firebrand. He was distant when I met him, arguing with the server at a café. He was so angry, so angry at the world and at himself. He had no one, and neither did I. I don't know what came over me, but I stepped in, put my hand on his shoulder and asked him if he was okay. He was startled, so startled, and for a second he looked like he might start shouting profanities at me too, contemplated it, but ultimately sat across from me, defeated. He went from angry to looking like he might cry at any second. Maybe he was desperate for someone to listen, because he started to overflow with words about what had happened to him and his friends. I didn't know what to say, I told him the tall man was tormenting me and my old friend Evan too. When I said Evan, his eyes widened a great deal, and he showed me the videos. I couldn't believe it. Evan was alive, he was alright. I started crying tears of relief from this news, and Noah awkwardly handed me the tissues off the table. We agreed from that day on to help each other. But Noah was getting more and more unstable by the day, blacking out frequently and ending up bloody. It wasn't an unfamiliar sight by any means. Me and him weren't very close, but he was a powerful ally. Slowly I watched the madness befall him, the Ichor infect him, turn him into something I didn't recognize. It'd be a lie to say it didn't scare me. It terrified me every time I saw Noah fade away more and more.
While I searched for a way to help Noah, I met the two friends, Brian and Timothy. Sitting at a picnic in the park, Tim caught me staring and offered me some of the tuna sandwiches he'd brought. It didn't taste spectacular, but the three friends, Alex, Tim, and Brian were so warm and welcoming that it felt like the best food I had for years. Tim made the best jokes, Brian was awkward but so friendly and gentle, and Alex was sociable and passionate. They treated me like an old friend they were reuniting with. I hadn't relaxed in such a long time, it felt refreshing. I got their numbers so we could plan to meet again, and Alex told me about his film project. The tape he handed me was, according to him, a sample of the filming. I was excited to watch it back home because Alex had seemed so passionate and excited about it too. Then i saw it. God, that tall man in the background. I had to warn them. But they wouldn't pick up their phones. Then, Brian answered. Please come quickly, please I'm begging you. Alex had disappeared, according to them, when I reached the address they gave. I went with Noah, they introduced themselves, but Tim seemed wary of Noah. His intuition had always been spot on. He pulled me aside when he got the opportunity, to warn me. I dismissed him, said Noah could be trusted, but I wish I had listened. We searched a few days like that for Alex with Noah, and me and the boys bonded a lot. Tim would make small talk and sometimes talk about his past. Brian was quiet for the most part, and only made small talk. I thought it was uncharacteristic for him, but pushed it aside. We continued for several more days, and finally, there was Alex, standing with his back to us in the middle of the forest. Tim started going on about how worried we were and where he had been, but Alex didn't even flinch. Tim grew agitated the more Alex remained unresponsive, and smacked a hand down on his shoulder. That seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in and as he turned around, we saw the bloody baby deer at his feet. Covered head to toe in blood, Alex started shaking. For a good few months, nothing happened again. We put the accident behind us, and started to spend time together a lot. Noah offered to find others like us, other people tormented by the tall man. And that was how the first Runners faction was formed. As our faction grew, I met all sorts of people, befriended them all, people who were just as desperate and lost as we were. We found comfort in numbers. But I noticed the changes in Brian. He got quieter and quieter. That liveliness, the laughter, it started to disappear. I tried to speak to him, but he distanced himself the more I reached out. It was the same with Tim, too. Something was wrong. Then, one day, I couldn't find either of them, or Noah. I found them at Tim's old abandoned hospital he stayed in, arguing on the balcony. Noah wasn't the same, he looked deranged, dangerous. A familiar sight, I had seen that very same look on Evan's face. Tim looked scared, he was waving around a pole and screaming. But, where was Brian? Then I noticed, it wasn't just screaming, it was sobbing. YOU DID THIS, YOU MADE ME DO THIS! No, it couldn't have been. TIM?? WHERE IS BRIAN?? Noah turned to look at me and in that moment, a sickening crack. Tim had brought the pole down on his head. LET'S GO, HURRY. Me and him ran as we both sobbed, because I had realized what Tim had done. We drove in silence for a long time. We need to pick up Autumn too, I'm not going anywhere without her. He didn't look at me, but turned the car around to the place all the Runners gathered. It was an alleyway, because the faction had been torn apart from the inside out from the unstable nature of its leaders weeks before the accident. Noah had become something else, Brian had lost himself in the process and now he was gone, Alex was god knows where, and me and Tim were trying to escape with my best friend. Autumn ran up to the car, smiling, but seeing the puffy eyes and grim expressions, her smile fell. We grabbed her after a quick explanation and silently drove away, away from that town, from that city, from all of the death and pain. But we all knew the peace would be short lived.
I met Autumn in an alleyway. It was pouring, and I was sitting under a bridge with a thin blanket. She walked up to me completely soaked, shaking in her boots and hyperventilating. I shot up from the ground and quickly wrapped my blanket around her and guided her to under the bridge. Her wide eyes and panicked breaths concerned me. She sat beside me like that for a while, trying to calm down, and I couldn't offer her any comforting words. But I think she preferred the silence. She didn't bring up why she was there, or what had happened, she just silently sat with me. I took care of her, mostly because I had no one else to take care of. The others were independent and distant. I shared food, offered my shoulder so she could sleep, and protected her from harm. Sometimes she would break down into tears and hold my hand, and I would let her without asking any questions. Eventually she opened up, and she told me about her pain. I listened. She would stumble over her words, almost sob, and stop herself. It took her especially long to tell her story, but I never rushed her. She wasn't a very affectionate or physical person. She preferred laying her head on my shoulder to hugs. We were inseparable. I knew all of her favorite food, her small nitpicks, all of the things she did when she was happy, sad, or anxious. She started to smile, bit by bit. Her grim expression turned into a hopeful one. She began laughing, scrunching her eyes, her dimples showing. I last saw her on that grim day the Rift sucked us all in. She was screaming at me to wait, to come back, to not go, as our surroundings twisted and faded. I couldn't hold her during our last moments together.
On that day, we were all together. Evan, Noah, Brian and Tim. Brian was alive, and he had come back with anger and contempt, after killing Alex. The two were in a brawl when the Rift took them. Evan was bitterly looking towards the tear in space, as if anticipating it. He had smiled at me, the most sad smile I ever saw, and didn't even say goodbye. He faded like a forgotten memory. Noah was grinning ear to ear, and he walked inside it willingly. That left me and my other friends, everyone who had been with me through everything, all the runners, and servants, cultists, people who were full of life. Who had shown their vulnerability, their kindness. We were all together during the end, and maybe it should have been enough to see them all one last time. But, it wasn't. There was so much left to say, so many hugs, so many tears we hadn't shed together. We parted in the most gut wrenching way. I will never forget you, my dear friends. Never. Never again. I love you, and I adore you. I hope that wherever you are now, you never have to endure that pain again. As for Habit, and the Collective, I know you remember. Habit, you came to help me remember. I understand why you came, but not why you stayed. I thought maybe you didn't care about the times we were together. Maybe you do, maybe you don't. I don't know what your intentions are. Maybe it's a way for you to reminisce about the past. Maybe you like what's familiar. But your presence here reminds me so much of him, I can't complain. Thank you for the memories and love, everyone. Until you remember, and until we meet again.
-Bunny Rabbit.