After about two weeks of my constant cycle of barely living, my thoughts started wondering to places it hadn't gone yet. I started to realise something. My whole life, I had had everything happen without my control. My parent had been taken from me and killed without me being able to stop it, I was taken in and taught the ways of man and cat and everything I never even thought could be anything other than voices above me without me being able to ask about it, I had an adventure with people I never knew before it started without being able to think about the danger.
I chose to die in that moment. I chose to stand infront of my parent's killer. And I shore as shit CHOSE to confront them without the party, knowing the risks. For once in my life, I actually chose what was going to happen to me. Even though I died as a result of it, I still stand by and am proud that I had a moment that I chose after all those years. Those sixteen years had been me being puppeteered and, in that one moment, I finally had cut the strings that piloted me.
But it was took from me.
I sat on that all day until Steam came home. I told them everything that I had realised. I told them about the hatred that had festered inside me for Ghostly. About how their selfish act of bringing me back had caused my one true moment of freedom to be shackled by them. Steam disagreed with me and said it was "the most selfless action they could think of". I left it at that for the night
