Day 1
I woke up today, but it wasn't my body. I could feel it—the weight, the movement, the unfamiliarity. It wasn't mine, but somehow, I was in it. I shouldn't even exist. I died. I know I did.
And yet… I'm here.
Everything feels wrong. My thoughts, my memories—they're still mine, but the body they're trapped in isn't. I don't understand how this happened or why.
Maybe I wasn't meant to wake up.
Year 1
I thought I could change things this time. I thought if I opened myself up to humans, if I believed in them, they might be different. I wanted to think they could be better—that this time could be better.
I was wrong.
They dragged me through their hell. Their anger, their greed, their endless hunger to destroy. Every time I tried to believe, they showed me why I shouldn't.
The years passed, and I kept falling. Over and over again.
Year 10
I'm alone. Completely alone.
Everything I've lived, everything I've seen—it all weighs on me like a constant shadow. I've learned so much, experienced so much, but none of it matters. I thought maybe I could escape it, but I can't.
Then I met him.
I don't know why, but I saw him as Papyrus. He wasn't Papyrus, not really, but something about him… it reminded me of my brother. The way he talked, the way he smiled, the way he believed in me. He didn't know who I was, didn't know my past, but he treated me like I mattered.
We became like brothers. It wasn't real, but it felt real. For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn't completely alone.
Year 12
She found me.
Frisk.
The blue shirt, always somewhere in the background—like the sky, like water, always there. She ruined everything.
She took him. She took my Papyrus away from me.
I begged her not to, but she didn't care. She left me behind, just like everyone else. I lost him, and when I did, everything fell apart. I felt like I was collapsing in on myself.
I tried to stop her. I tried to stop myself. I couldn't do either.
Year 15
It's been years since she left me. I've learned how to survive, how to hold myself together when there's nothing left to hold onto.
But the anger never left. The pain never left.
I thought about ending it. So many times. But every time I tried, something stopped me. A spark of determination, just enough to keep going. It wasn't hope. It wasn't belief. It was something darker, something raw and twisted.
Insanity, maybe. But it kept me alive.
Year 20
I've learned how to control it. Determination. I don't need anyone else to give it to me anymore. I can create it myself. I've improved it, pushed it to levels I never thought possible.
But it's still not enough. Not yet.
There's something I'm missing, something just out of reach. I don't know what it is, but I can feel it, pulling at me from the edges of my mind.
I'm not done yet.