-- September 27th, year 199X --

To think I had left home without a journal to write in, that the idea never occurred to me.

Looking back, it would've been unneeded weight to my backpack, something I would never get around to, that kind of thing that would have been thrown out later for food or water.
But now, after all that's happened, I regret not doing such, as the days seemed to have melted together, each event a bright beacon that linked to another, time undistinguished.

After so long, I now find myself back at home once more, able to breathe without worrying for the fate of the world. 
Everything is returning to normal, as if the events of the past seven months never took place.. of course, besides the Sharks having calmed down, but that's a good thing.
The weather's starting to run with chilled winds, as it always does. 
Little kids, maybe half my age, are playing in the piles of dead leaves, with their parents either taking part or being mad about having raked those piles hours ago.
School has begun once again, and although it's not something I enjoy, it's nowhere as difficult as facing off against aliens and robots.

I no find myself smiling at the littlest things, even taking time to just lay there and daydream about peaceful thoughts, about my friends and what they're doing, about seeing them again soon.. 
Even if the temptation is great, I dare not write of my stronger feelings, as my little sister would undoubtedly go ahead and wave the proof of my emotions towards Paula in the faces of others. (Especially my mom, as I'd never get a break after those things are unveiled to her!)

Watching, listening, feeling all of it makes me feel happy, knowing that it was the doing of my friends and I that would prevent the end of everything I see around me. 

But today, three months after I wipe my dirtied shoes on the welcome mat to return to my family after a grueling journey, I can't get my mind off of yesterday.

Was it even a day? I can't remember how much time lapsed.
So many things happened at once: none of us were prepared to be forced to go back in time, to force ourselves into bodies not our own, to lead a mission that could end up being suicidal.

The fact that we survived is a miracle in itself.

Yet, even with that idea heavy in my mind, something bothers me.
More than the thought of my powers being too strong to manage, even more than the endless slew of questions that I can't ask.
From the second that massive machine was turned off, I felt completely overwhelmed with fear.

Never before have I ever felt so scared, so helpless -- I was staring the end of the world in the face, being unable to even cry out in terror..
That feeling couldn't have been normal, the way that eerie voice would repeat my name again and again, the tortured roars that rang in my mind.
I couldn't see a thing, couldn't feel a thing, barely hear anything else besides Paula's tearful plea for help beside me.

All I wanted was to give up there, to just die so I wouldn't have to lay there and listen to the warring shrieks, feel the sensation of being torn apart from the inside out, to slowly lose my mind from the unbridled insanity.

The fact that I'm still here, breathing, feeling the sunlight on my skin is enough to remind me that I'm alive, that I survived through that waking hell.. is it selfish to say that isn't enough for me?
It's something that I'll probably never forget, no matter how much I want to cast it away so I won't hurt myself with the memory.

Over these past seven days, even my dreams are influenced.
That crimson monster twirls through my subconscious, screaming and writhing, turning previously-calm, pleasant sleep into nightmares.
The scenerio repeats like an old record, that thing appearing, and I find myself waking up in cold sweat, my alarm clock blaring "3:00 AM" from my bedside.

Is that inner darkness and violence from Magicant, that which I supposedly destroyed, coming back, finding a part of my mind to dwell in once more?

Giygas is supposed to be gone, dead, disappeared into nothingness.. but he seems to live on in my thoughts, even if I recoil from those very ideas.
How am I going to get away from myself?

Perhaps Paula would know, as she was my only companion during that whole trial.. the only source of comfort I could find, no matter how little I could understand at that time.

I know I should just forget and turn to the future..

But how is that possible when so many things make me recall that day?

~ Ness