[Storyteller.]

That's why I've told you and not him. Because you can't help me. He could, if he wanted to. He won't, of course, and who can blame him? Anyway, there's nothing you can really do. Which makes it safe to confide in you, you know? God forbid I should actually ask for help from somebody who could really help me.

By the way, I heard back from my counsellor today. For the last time. No more reaching out for help.

And all this emotional crap, all this trying to help people and save them and junk... yeah, that's over too. I can't save myself, so, you were right, you were all right, I was a hypocrite for trying to help any of you, so now, yup, that's the end of that. *dusts hands off*

So, do not try to help me. Do not try to get me talk about my feelings. Better yet, don't try to get me to talk at all. I'm... nothing. Nothing at all. I feel nothing, I mean nothing, I deserve nothing.

The girl you thought you knew? Yeah. She's dead. Meet the new me.