He forgets about Sable's existence, about anything other than the birds he know are watching above, and probably laughing at his stupidity.
"Is this it huh?"
He wants to scream into the sky, to throw a lighter and to set this whole place ablaze with himself inside it. He wouldn't even care.
"Is this all I am?! Nothing but a few stray words off a page, not conforming to YOUR STANDARDS?!"
His voice gets stronger with each breath, each word, each attempt at speaking that doesn't trigger the tickling burn in his throat with the air scraping against his lungs.
Sable tries to flutter onto his shoulder, but he brushes her away - not wanting to give any more of himself to the damn place than he already had.
"Helping a trapped soul, and that gets ME trapped?! WHAT SORT OF SICK SICK JOKE IS THIS?!"
I'm real I'm real I'm real I'm real I'm real I'm real I'm real I'm real I'm real I'm real
Words fail him, and the memories of what he saw, the threads and thimbles of fate wrapped around his throat dragging him along and under the waves of events that flash through his mind. Hyde, Hyde talking, what he said and what he would still say, Utterson, Richard, everyone he knew. He couldn't see himself. In any future or any event or any memory he flashed through he wasn't in any of them-
A sharp flash of pain temporarily blinds him, gasping and choking on burning air. His chest...his chest it- it hurt..it hurt oh Gods it hurt make it stop...make it stop make it stop..
His hands clenched around his head, returning to the curled up, knees to his chest position he was in not a moment of before, fingers digging into his forehead. It was too much, what was he meant to do? Play along? Pretend it never existed?? Pretend he never saw the...
The Book didn't exist. He didn't exist.
I'm real... I'm real I'm real I'm real, I'm real.
There were no mirrors. He couldn't see anything, only what was shown through his own eyes. Should he even trust them anymore? Was his reality what he actually was? Was he truly Henry Jekyll? Was he truly a scientist, born and developed into the matter of science and chemicals?
Write. Write. Write to forget, just write write WRITE FUCKING WRITE.
Paper.
Ink.
Inkwell.
Spilt it.
Doesn't matter.
Would never matter again.
He's real. He's real I'm real, I'm Henry Jekyll I'm real, I'm-
Stop spilling it.
Get a hold of yourself.
You're real. You're okay.
You're...real?
...
