 I don't know what here is. Here is. I've circled this place more times than I can count. Son of wife. This has to be a trapping of my own mind. I do this to myself. Yeah, cause I deserve this. After everything I've done, everything I've not done, this may not make sense for me. All right, who am I even talking to? It's you, isn't it? You put me here, didn't you? You killed my family, filled my head with stories, and then you left me. You left me with nothing but this stupid fucking bracelet. Here, look, fake monster. This is your fault. I drew me slaying the monster, which is you. This is your fault. How dare you talk to your mother that way, J.A.?