Out From The White

They finally let her out, it's time for her to go back home. But it's getting dark now.

Use the A and D keys to move her.

I often spoke to them in the late hours, but they only spoke back when I turned the lights off. I asked them if they knew why I was here and they told me it was because I was different. They told me that I only knew they were there because I was different, but that wasn't the difference that put me in here. They would follow me when I left my room and they stood around me while I was on the table. They were the only thing that kept me together, the only thing I had to hold onto. As I was different so were they, it was why they were here too. Like we all were from a different place then this one. Their shadows were the only contrast I had in that world of white. When I was released, I never saw them again. But sometimes I still hear them when the lights are off. Sometimes they pull me one way when I'm walking another. They say I need to survive, that the world needs me. That more then one world needs me. They told me I was one of the prophecies, the prophecies that were used to paint her portrait. I want to believe them, I want to be special. But sometimes I forget things that are there, and sometimes I remember things that aren't there. Maybe they're the reason I was put in the white world, maybe they want me to feel special because I want me to feel special and I and they are both me.

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