Chapter Eighty Nine

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The day seemed like it wasn't different at all. The walls still smelt faintly of bleach from the continous amounts of quick cleanings and the floors still had the faint outline of the footprints of whoever walked on them. The fridge was still full and the cabinets were still half empty. The office still had scattered papers and an open tan folder on the desk. The attic still had the spiderwebs at every corner.

It was as if nothing changed. Nothing seemed off or shifted. Everything seemed normal.

That is, unless you looked in the bathroom.

That was where Max laid under water, completely lifeless, wearing every piece of clothing he had on before he put himself in there. His face was facing down in the water and his back no longer strained when he felt like he needed a breath. Eventually, he fell into an emotionless zen state before his body let him go.

And then there he was, lifeless in the bathtub.

Reality was no longer his home.






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I'M SORRY

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