Don't look behind you.
Please, god, whatever you do... whatever you do, don't turn around.
She is here. She is inside you, she is always around you.
What you have seen is what she wanted you to see. I'm sorry. I had to drag you in or she would drive me hopelessly mad.
She is inside you now. Her inky black pretense has stained the darkest, most hidden corners of your mind
and I am sorry, but she can never wash out, not ever. No matter how long you live, she will always be there.
She will walk beside you in the shadows. She will be behind you in mirrors, just out of sight.
She will be the hint of movement in the corner of your eyes. She will be the whisper in the night.
Hers is the unending sorrow.
Hers is a lifetime of loss and longing, of being trapped in the outside...
Trapped in the ether stream, weathered and irradiated like a stone in a poisoned river.
Listen closely when you walk outside in the dark. Listen to your footsteps. Sometimes, hers can be heard.
Softly, keeping pace with you, just behind you.
But please, don't.. don't turn around. Don?t ever turn around when you hear her whisper, when you feel her hot breath.
Don't ever turn around, and don't look her in the eyes.
Please.
-- Tim
