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Who is this sassy lost child
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Jae stumbled.

That was what he got for trying to run around on an injured leg, feet snagging on the carpet, staggering to the side and colliding with a shelf. The shelf wobbled, sending a book or two tumbling to the floor, and Jae clutched at it with his free hand for balance.

He thought he heard a sob. He thought he heard retreating footsteps. He didn't even know who or what he was chasing.

"Leave me alone," he rasped.

Just... he didn't want to see anyone. He didn't want to jump at shadows. He wanted to die.

He wanted to go home.

"Leave me alone!"

The panic seized him and he couldn't breathe. It was this place. He shouldn't have come back here. He should have stayed in the warehouse with only Dorothy's corpse for company because at least he knew she was gone and couldn't hurt him.

Jae groped for his bag, for another bolt, but his fingers didn't seem to be working the way they were supposed to. He pressed his back against the shelf and clung to it for support instead, trying desperately to breathe in.

That's what you get for coming back here and chasing after ghosts.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."

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友達 · The Asylum Library