Past memories are like photographs soaked in acid, faded, distorted, and warped, making me even doubt whether I might have been a resident of this darkness all along. Everything I experienced in the real world might have been nothing more than a beautiful dream conjured up in the depths of this solitude.
It feels as though something similar happened before.
When I was trapped in the basement of the fifteenth floor, completely cut off from the outside world, a similar delusion once took hold of me in the arms of despair. Unable to prove the reality of what I had lived through, all I could do was quietly wait for my personality to dissolve, eroded by the darkness.
