It has been three years since you visited that place. That place that now lies deep in your subconscious memory. What happened that night? What happened to Emily? I cannot recall anything. The veins in my head pulsate and burn with a heated rage as my heart races. It's as if waking up from a nightmare to find your sheets soaked in sweat, but Im not dreaming. The voices in my head won't go away. They keep telling me to go back to that motel to find out what became of Emily. What happened that night? It has been three years since you visited that place. I cannot recall anything. The veins in my head pulsate and burn with a heated rage. I cannot recall anything. I can..not... This is life inside a glass house. Life inside my mind. Unable to distinguish reality from fiction. All is one bad acid trip that never wears off.
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