text: "I'm sorry, Gary." The last words I remember saying. We were sitting at a table outside a cafe, just having a good conversation, but a part of me just felt like some just wasn't right. I couldn't do this anymore. I remember seeing his displeasure as I turned away to leave. He looked so heartbroken, so vulnerable. His face tensed at the shock of it all. It was killing me inside. Gary's a great guy, but this was for the best. That's the last thing I remember before everything got dark. My head hurts. I'm getting a stabbing pain in my head. "Wake up." A voice. A foggy, drowned out voice. "Wake up. We're going to be late." It's cold. I feel... weak. "C'mon wake up already. Boss'll be pissed if we're late again." My eyes were openned. It was Gary. He's smiling. He's looking down at me with a gentle stare and a relaxed grin. He looks... happy. But where am I? A single bulb hanging from the stain covered ceiling, dimly lights the bleak room. The walls decorated with wallpaper with little ducks on them. Parts of it are peeling though, and some of the molding seems to be falling apart. I don't remember being here before. *"Where are we?"* I said. "Ah there you go. About time you woke up. Now we need to get you dressed and well fed or you're going to be cranky all day and complain about how Greg won't shut up about his stupid four year old daughter." Did Gary not hear me? *"Gary, what are we doing here?"* I tried again. Something's wrong. Nothing came out. "I know Greg's an ass, but you can't say that about his daughter. And I'm pretty sure that's illegal in some states." Gary opens a drawer from a nearby dresser. He picks out a blue and white plaid dress shirt. It's got a stain on the sleeve. Possibly from spilt coffee. He should clean that. "Here we go. Your favorite shirt." I lost that shirt weeks ago. Why does Gary have it? *"Why do you have my shirt?"* I can't move. Why can't I move? Something is definitely wrong. "Now put this on and let's get going." I CAN'T MOVE! Gary sighs... "Do I have to help you again? Geez, what would you do without me?" He sits me up. There's cardboard under me. My feet look pale. My body feels... heavy. "Oh please. You didn't have to say that." He lifts up my arm and slides it through the sleeve of the dirty shirt. "I know you appreciate me." This isn't right. I don't understand any of this. I can't move. My head hurts. WHERE AM I? "There. Now you look good as new." Gary says as he's finished buttoning up the shirt. "See for yourself." Gary turns my head towards a mirror on the other side of the dingy room. I'm dead. There's a hole in my head. Blood wiped off my pale, blue face, but some of it still there. I'm decrepid. My head falls over as Gary positions me over his shoulder. "Oh no, don't feel bad. You look great!" He lifts my head up again. "Why thank you. I really do think we make a great pair. Now let's get going." He's been playing with me.