Sometime in December
I was lying on my couch, staring at the ceiling. Felt like I was floating - but at the same time, like I was being weighed down, held down.
Cold hands, spread out, pushing down on my hollow belly.
There was static in the background, too - I was skyping with Chrono, I think. He was telling me something, but whenever I turned to face the monitor, the colours would go wild and jump from behind the screen, screaming almost, ready to scratch my face open.
And his voice - so distorted, but happy and lively and with such a nice melody. Felt so wrong, as well. Felt so cold.
The hands pulled me down even deeper, deeper, deeper.
Whenever I stared at the ceiling, though, the hands would let go of me and I'd spring back to normal.
Chrono's voice would go back to a static, too.
Everything was so grainy.
Black and white.
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