If you are reading this I'm sorry. You have been trusted to know the information that nobody may have access to. I am lost and I am gone. I have left no trace of were I should be besides the remains of this writing. I write this in advance for when the time comes that I must leave this wretched place. At least that's how I see it. You have been given this secret of knowing where I have planed to go and why. I must meet with my others. Somewhere of the coast of the velvet brown taste in my mouth. Even if these places and people are just not real to you. Even if they are in my head. I am not too far from the place you saw a glimpse of me in. Not too far off. I remember we'd laugh and be questioned by our caretakers when we'd see each other out the corner of our eyes. I am located in the depths of the dead. Don't look for me. Stay away. Stop and remember the things I've said to you. Don't forget them. They are coming soon. I know they are. Don't let them get you. I'm forced to be with the others. No matter how tile this floor may be, and no matter the pink redness of the way I feel. I've been chosen. I'm sorry. You know of my past. One of the only ones. You are chosen too. As of the other's chosen ones, they don't know me . Not yet at least. Don't forget me please. You will be next. The next generation.
Don't look for me. ~Dev
