Tired. - The Stanley Parable

I'd like to know why you / are all alone while I

Note: Huge tw for self harm
Chapter titles are from Stranded Lullaby by Miracle Musical
[Brackets] are Stanley signing
italics are Stanley's thoughts
"Quotes" are the Narrator speaking

THE END IS NEVER THE END IS LOADING NEVER

"All of his co-workers were gone. What could it mean? Stanley decided to go to the meeting room; perhaps he had simply missed a memo."

Stanley slouched in his chair. He was tired. He was so, so tired. Of the Narrator, of the parable, of the endless monotony of the office. He hated all of it. He wished desperately that there was a way out.

He had done the freedom ending three times in a row now, deciding it was easiest to just appease the Narrator and not knowing what else to do. He couldn't do it again though, so he just continued slouching. He felt so useless and empty.

"Stanley?"

Begrudgingly he slowly stood up and exited his office. The last thing he wanted was the Narrator worrying about him. It was so exhausting when he pretended to care about him. Stanley knew he didn't really.

Stanley walked through the building, keeping his head low and eyes on the ground.

"Stanley, are you alright? You seem kind of down.."

All this did was piss Stanley off more. He didn't need the Narrator's mock concern.

[I'm fine.] he signed at the ceiling.

"Alight.. Well just know that you can always talk to me, okay Stanley?"

This sent a pang of guilt through the man, though it was quickly replaced by anger. He doesn't actually care about you. It's a facade.

Stanley simply clenched his fists and continued wandering around the office.

He needed to get out his frustration. To do something.
He finally had an idea.

He knew from a past run where he had tried to dismantle a computer for fun (the Narrator reset before he could actually do anything), that there was a box cutter in the drawer of one of the desks. It was perfect.

He started opening what he knew were the wrong drawers in feigned curiosity so the Narrator wouldn't grow suspicious. Then, when he thought the Narrator wasn't paying attention, he opened the right drawer and discreetly slipped the blade into his pocket.

"Stanley went around touching every little thing in the office, but it didn't make a single difference, nor did it advance the story in any way."

Stanley huffed but took a deep breath and collected himself. He would be free in just a moment.

Stanley already knew the perfect place to go.

"When Stanley came to a set of 2 open doors, he entered the door on his left."

He walked swiftly through the left door.

"Yet there was not a single person here either.
Feeling a wave of disbelief, Stanley decided to go up to his boss's office, hoping he might find an answer there."

"Stanley stepped into the broom closet, but there was nothing here, so he turned around and got back on track."

Stanley shut the door behind him. He knew the Narrator couldn't see him in here.

His back hit the wall and he slid down into a sitting position. He slowly slipped the box cutter out of his pocket. His breaths were quick and shallow and his heart pounded in his chest in anticipation.