5265717569656D
5265717569656D is the filename of an encrypted document. It was located in the hard drive of a computer discovered in the forest, and is believed to be the most recent in a series of data that was saved to the drive before the system was indefinitely shut down.
| "5265717569656D" | |
|---|---|
 No image available. | |
| File type | Text Document |
| Date created | April 3rd |
| File size | 1174 MB |
Background
A computer was one of few possessions found during the search of an abandoned forest lodging. The system was situated in a room where a small gathering of the flower Ipomoea indica grew out of the ground. The system notably had these same plants running throughout its entire case and components. The system did not function, and it is unknown what caused it to stop functioning or how long it has not functioned. Despite the components no longer being able to be powered, the data saved to the hard drive was able to be accessed with external tools without having to disturb the system.
Contents
The contents were encrypted, but the folder it was found in contained a plaintext message presumably referring to it.
To whom it may concern.
Do not ever attempt to undo the encryption found on this file.
It has been sealed to protect the fragile heart of somebody I fully understand.
To remove the lock I've put on it would be to violate the protection I've granted.
Please, let her rest, unless you are willing to understand her as well.
And if that is the case, please give your condolences, so she can continue to have hope.
I have found myself dead once more.
Just as before, I did not say anything. Just as before, I did not leave anything.
They ensnare me and stake my spirit to the desolate earth from which they came. I am blinded by them, my struggles always resisted and my thoughts forever consumed by them. That is and has always been my reality, and I have never once known different.
It was then that I could find some semblance of freedom - to no longer struggle and never again feel trapped. Everything has always be this way, and I'd feel content in accepting my fate.
A light as small as a grain of soil blinked, no matter how much I averted my eyes. Was it always there, or had it been sent to me one day? For what little it was, it could someday uproot my entire world and destroy me again.
I was now aware of my surroundings for once, as opposed to having idly observed them. Not much had changed though, for I could still only see what I've always been able to see.
There was no sensation of hearing, no reverberations or sound. It was as if these words were being thrust directly into my consciousness, confident and certain in their message and able to pierce all barriers of communication. There was no room to twist or ignore them. I had no choice but to comply.
Physically, mentally. I had forgotten how to, for they were not necessary in my world. I cannot even ask what I am truly being questioned of.
I am still in that field and have always been standing here because it travels alongside me. However, my travels ended many, many years ago, and I've now settled where I last remained. Then, it has been several years as well as my entire life at the same time.
My birthdate? I can hardly recall; there was no use in holding on to them here. I couldn't truly ever forget them, though. Yes, I could never be free of them. I could never be free of my humanity. My name... it's...
I am here for a reason. It was my fate to remain here. Yet as LILY claims, I'm to be removed from here, presumably because I don't belong here after all.
I know I've done something deserving of this. To tell me that's wrong - it is to undermine what I did.
It couldn't translate my thoughts to speech without getting stuck on itself. What I was attempting to speak was everything: every single reason I could muster. That was what could not be formed from my mouth. But I am certain that it was everything, even if I could not finalize it.
Why - no, how could this be right? That I do not have to serve my time with my life? All I knew for sure was that this was deserved, even if I cannot argue for it.
That pride, that assurance in everything LILY said contrasted with my inability to even speak. It was as if LILY could destroy me with mere words. Meanwhile, I could do nothing but acknowledge them.
There was no resistance in that movement. It was not by LILY's command, but my own volition. My arm began to ache; not with the pain of being hurt, but the pain of a struggle. The struggle to go against the grain, up an incline. The struggle to be alive.
However, I had only overcome just one thread in a bundle of vines. I could not go much farther, not without having to stop.
Aching turned to burning. Burning that intensified the more I moved. Burning that remained even if I stopped for a moment.
Am I not destined to be buried up to my waist in these vines? What of any reason for why I'm here to begin with?
...LILY could've been right. Maybe there was more here and it's merely out of my reach. I was just curious, only wanted to find out for myself. After being so certain there was nothing else... that felt ridiculous. But I had to set aside that feeling for now, if I ever hoped to know.
My arms were still held in place and my eyes still shut. They weren't necessary for this, so that's fine. I merely had to leave from where I've been standing all along. If there was more to my world, I had to go against my own intuition to find out.
I was still blinded and my hands still bound, but now I knew. I could feel it just from the change in the air, the difference in the soil I stood on. There is something more here aside from endless torment.
Every step I took and the sensations caused by doing so reminded my body that it once functioned. I was once alive, and was slowly being restored to function.
Or, it might have been me who had been aimlessly leading this. There was no way of knowing, and maybe it did not matter.
How could I not carry some doubt about going against everything I know? I still speak them in my mind, and they seem to deafen all else.
I couldn't silence my thoughts, but I can choose not to act on them. And the more I could let them stay thoughts, the easier it became to walk. I do not remember for how long I managed, but it must have surely been a significant time.
I can believe LILY is my guide and truly has my best interests in mind; All of that is fine, but to think that someone would put themselves in the same hell as me to save me, even if it ended up being all done in self-interest... I can't help but think they have the wrong person.
I have found myself able to see the world beyond my suffering, and learned that it was still no greater than before.
My own thoughts calmed as I continued doing so. What was once doubt was replaced with a desire to escape from everything, and it fueled me enough to be able to run. When I did, my arms were no longer bound and my sight restored. It was then when I could finally see the world again, and there was nothing remaining but a dying forest.
I do not know if LILY was ever with me, actually. All I knew LILY existed as was a voice that could've been inside my head all along. Then, why couldn't I call out to that voice and ask it to come back?
I did not know where to go from here or if I should go at all. Surely the solution wasn't to continue as I had just been doing, unquestioning of anything.
The more I sat around, the more I realized maybe this was no different than being in hell. Could being lost forever and abandoned be considered an improvement from being confined forever and lonesome?
If LILY wasn't going to come back, then only by my hand can I solve this. I know for certain that I don't want to be anywhere near where I had just came from. Then... my solution is to keep running. To keep running away from the possibility of being trapped in there once more.
I didn't need a guide anymore. I've gotten where I wanted to be, and that place is anywhere I don't feel bound by these chains. And, as long as I keep going... I'll be free.
Far away from where I once was, away from that pain. All that suffering that defined my life for so long. I had believed that, as long as I could escape from it, it wouldn't have mattered, and from there I could find peace and rebuild. I must've been too late, then. Far too late for it to possibly matter anymore.
I still had hope, as misplaced as it was, that I could fix this. That eventually, it'd lead me back to normalcy. I kept doing it, because it was the only way I knew how to handle everything. I kept doing it, until one day I had found myself with nowhere left to run to.
It was simply a verdant wall of vines, knit so tightly I could not hope to see past them or tear them down. It was the same vines that I had always been trapped in. The same vines that grew from inside me, and strangled my heart. I have been trapped in here forever. If there's no hope... then maybe I should stop right here.
It was the one I built around myself and the world. I lived the rest of my life in it, until it became all I ever knew. But before it closed me off forever, there was something that managed to sneak in. It was a last glimmer of hope. Hope, in the form of the only person that grew to understand the world's loneliest woman.
I held on to hope that Azalea could live on, and someday be able to forget about me. She would have until all hardware on Earth died to do so. I would have until the forest blooms, and I'm sentenced to repent with my soul for all eternity.
Still closed up, but preparing to overwhelm me in an inescapable surge of blue flowers. As if they were already eager to consume me, the vines of the wall crept back on to my body. Back to the way I started off this failed journey.
In the morning, everything will return to how it was before. And hopefully... Azalea can move on and leave me behind.
I was once again entangled, and I could not find the strength to break free. It was because I had already accepted my demise with open arms, because I had convinced myself of it. Because I managed to remembered hope, and turned it against myself.
They twisted perfectly around me, wove themselves in a fashion that strangled the most fragile parts of my soul, until they could convince me of a horrible, bastardized truth. That did not hinder LILY in the slightest. She could unravel them and rip them out of the ground so casually, so precisely, that I couldn't even fathom why I could not do the same. The buds that grew around me, they as well were cut down in an instant. It had all happened so quickly by her hand. So quickly, that I almost doubted I saw it happen. But no, LILY did save me just now. She was in front of me, and had been holding a bundle of uprooted vines in her hands. I wasn't able to lift my head, so all I could see were those vines falling from her grasp as she began speaking to me.
Why LILY had made this contract with me, why she opted to not show herself until now. ...I have somebody watching over me, no matter how alone I think I am, and she's not going to let me give in no matter what.
All of a sudden, the environment shifted around us, and we were now standing in front of my home. It too, was confined in the forest, verdant walls surrounding it on all sides. Vines grew all around it, covering it almost entirely, save for the front door, which was opened just a crack. It is just as my home was when I was still alive. I felt drawn towards it, but LILY stopped me before I could consider going inside.
I headed towards the door. I wasn't ready, and I haven't been all my life. But so long as I remember... I can always find the strength to come back.
As of the midnight of April 2nd, I am 24 years old. There will be no one to celebrate this, including myself, for I do not have anyone to celebrate with. I am scheduled for work this morning where I will continue doing what I did yesterday, just as I've been doing for the past few years. I have repeated this for so long that it is easy to believe things has always been this way.
That, or small talk.
I never give much other than safe responses, because what I want to discuss wouldn't be enriching to anyone but me. What I want to discuss are these feelings of not having made progress in my life. I want to learn if this issue is exclusive to me. In doing so, maybe I could learn when things will become anything more than what they were yesterday. Whenever I come here, though, it seems nobody else is plagued with this issue given the way they always discuss the recent milestones in their lives. They go on all day about their personal achievements and the satisfaction they've reached from the fruits of their labor. And because I have not made any comparable progress, I am instead relegated worthless crumbs of discussion.
That is something I could not believe, as my life had been so profoundly volatile a not too long ago. It's unfathomable to think all that momentum could be halted, just because I passed a certain threshold. No, there was something happening here that only I failed to understand. The people who knew, they couldn't possibly know how it felt to be left behind. So because of that, I do not have much to say to anybody. They eventually picked up on that, bothering me less and less as time went on.
I'm not strongly attached to this place or its people, even after working here for several years. I have no love for here as it does not have love for me either. Yet, whenever I think of moving elsewhere, I struggle in imagining it. It would not be hard to do so. This is not a place of prestige; workplaces like these are a dime a dozen. It is likely just the familiarity of everyone's faces, the layout of everything and the routines I've built up so far that keep me here. If I ever did move from here, it'll mean that one of us will have given in, and I currently have no intent to do so.
I am sitting alone for my break, so even now I do not have an opportunity to talk to people. However, I am always seated where I can watch the discussions of everyone else from the side. It feels comforting watching them get along, as strange as it might sound. It is more calming doing so than it is to imagine myself being involved in their discussions.
That, just maybe, I only found comfort in this because I have already decided the alternative was never meant for me. I could not truly understand that thought, and so I had opted to instead forget it.
A small cake in a plastic shell, big enough for only one person. It was frosted white and featureless, save for three blue roses made of icing on its face. Attached to the top of the plastic was a small note with a name written at the very top.
From what I have seen, she had already gotten to know everyone else I worked with, or at the very least managed to get on speaking terms with them. I've watched her talk with everyone while eating lunch. Sometimes she'd give me a curious glance back, but I never thought too much of it.
When was the last time someone had treated me this nice, unprompted? I wasn't sure how to properly respond to this... so I didn't. I faced the ground and gave a slight nod to the nicest gesture someone had ever done for me. Catherine smiled just out of the corner of my eye, telling me "see you soon" before leaving to go on break.
There ended up being no continuation to me and Catherine's previous exchange. Until it was time to clock out, my eyes remained fixated on the ever so familiar sights of my daily routine.
The note attached to it, I removed and set aside after reading it once. Reading it again after coming home, it was really nothing much, thinking about it now. It opened with Catherine wishing me a happy birthday. Apparently, it was a custom of hers to gift those around her on their birthdays when possible. My birth date was apparently hard to find, as she made no progress in asking around for it. Everyone she had asked told her the same thing. They did not know anything, because I had never told them anything. Catherine had written that it was because of this, she hoped she could some day befriend me.
Clean up the home, shower, scrounge up something to eat before going to bed. For the latter, Catherine's cake, despite being situated in the back, stood out from everything in the fridge. It was reminding me of the note as well. The longer I spent thinking of that note, the more uncomfortable I found myself becoming. I could not understand why. Trying to find an answer made my head ache. I ended up tucking the note away in a drawer a little after midnight, in hopes I would stop thinking about it.
Despite her request to want to talk more, I sat alone during my break again. I came back to my desk to find it how it's always been, with no blue roses waiting for me. I am safe today. I can only hope Catherine understands why.
The note she gave me, shutting it away did nothing to keep it off of my conscious. I couldn't bring myself to re-read it, but the thought of Catherine alone was enough to make my mind race.
For so many months, they were kept brief and done shyly. She would always retract them quickly whenever I took notice. Now, very abruptly, her gazes became direct, giving me ample time to let her gentle smile sink into me. In response, I was still sending back the same indirect looks I give to everything.
For her sake, tomorrow... I'll try. It may be uncomfortable to do so, but it would be worse to knowingly move on and abandon Catherine this way. For her sake, I'll do it.
You don't get along well with everyone else or something? They all seem alright to me.
At least, they did when I asked them about you.
Tell me a little about yourself, what's been on your mind recently?
A question of who I am, or what I think of every day. That is because even I am not sure of it myself. To me, it has always felt that I am more defined by my struggles than any tangible personality traits. I imagined that if I could gain an objective understanding of myself, that would be the answer as well. Then, if I'm defined by my struggles, I'll admit that to her, even if it is not ideal.
How'd everything go for you after you clocked out?
I really didn't have anything planned that day or anyone to celebrate with.
Just as quick as that happened, her face lit up a little again.
It's still sitting in my fridge. I thought you were asking if I liked how it looked...
I felt awkward for interrupting and stupid for being laughed at; that dissipated when she went right back to talking, as if nothing happened.
I mean, it's not exactly a masterpiece or anything.
It's also charming in its own way that you don't want to eat it because of that.
Or at least gave it a try. I made it myself, after all.
But hey, at least I know someone likes my really minimal decorating skills.
Maybe she noticed me getting shaken up and quiet right there. I would've thanked her for making me feel less guilty, if I could phrase it in a way that didn't sound terribly awkward.
Maybe I could make that work, actually. I did have something in mind, but I wasn't sure if you would've liked it.
I should've come here earlier. Sorry, Terra... I'll just show you everything tomorrow. You can tell me what you think about it then, m'kay?
She has brought what looks like a small photo album with her.
Flower pots, all housing plants of various species, were arranged end to end on racks. But that was just on the patio. The rest of the backyard was lined with flowering shrubs and saplings. There was so much growing here that I couldn't possibly find something to start talking about.
This ones a pot of pansies. I moved them to a bed recently to give their roots more room. Ooh, these are the roses I used as a reference for your cake!
When was the last time you ever saw a real blue rose?
Roses don't even have the right pigments for it! They have the right ones for being red, of course, but infamously not blue. If you ever see blue roses, there's no doubt that they've been artificially colored.
Had it been anyone else bragging like that to me, I would've gotten frustrated, no doubt. Hearing it from Catherine, though, it felt nice. Being used to her voice, and just hearing Cathy be herself with me. ...I wanted to be myself with her, too. If only I had known who exactly I was, other than a brick wall sometimes.
Whenever a photo caught my eye, Cathy would go on a small tangent about the plants in the photo. She always seemed to know exactly when and why she had started growing them, no matter how trivial the details got.
It was a sapling in an utterly pathetic state. Its trunk was skinnier than it should've been and stretched too far upwards. The leaves of the branches were sparse and thin, compared to the dense foliage of everything else. Despite Catherine having taken this photo at an appealing angle, it was still clear the sapling was also leaning off slightly.
They had sent it to me because it wasn't growing right at first and they hoped I could fix it. I don't think they had ever specified what species it was, and it's hard to tell, honestly.
There's really nothing that bad about it. I just have to keep up with it sometimes, make sure it isn't going to fall over on itself.
Although, if you did want to give me an award for that, I wouldn't turn it down, hehe.
I don't know what it'll end up looking like, and it maybe isn't admittedly all that appealing on the eyes. Despite that, I still want to see it grow. If it ever grows to be nice and pretty, I'll take a really nice picture of it for you, okay?
I wondered what could've happened to it to get into this state, and my mind ended up asking another question about it. How could it possibly live on, forever slanted to one side?
Did any of them catch your eye?
She stopped on a page and then pointed a photo out to me. It was of a potted plant, dotted in many small sky blue flowers.
This photo's actually only a few weeks old! They're still pretty young plants, so they'll be growing for a bit after you take them home. I didn't want to give you something too big in case you didn't have space, but you should be able to find somewhere to put a pot this small, right?
Maybe someday, I would find those perfect words to pay her back in. Until then, I'll have to settle for this.
The forget-me-nots would rest by the window where the sun shone the strongest, which happened to be in my bedroom. So every day, I would be greeted by them and come home to that gift.
However, I noticed at some point their growth had plateaued. They still blossomed even more vividly than they did in Catherine's photo thanks to the care I put into them. I would continue to take care of them all the same, but I still could not help but wish they could grow into something even more.
An expectation, rather than the surprise they once provided, as if I had squeezed them dry of any value. Perhaps it was time to ask Catherine if she would be willing to part with more flowers. However, unable to find a way to express that I was thankful yet wanted more, I opted to instead stay silent once more.
Catherine and I still talked occasionally, still sat together on our breaks. At some point, we started running out of things to discuss. I noticed it when the attempts at small talk from her ended up becoming most of our conversations. I gave whatever responses I could. Her gift is doing fine as always, and I was still wishing they could grow into something more.
It's hard for me to picture what things would be like in half a decade.
It's fine that you don't have a rigid plan for the future. You'll figure things out eventually. And whatever you end up doing, whatever path you go down, I'm sure you'll be fine.
I never did anything with them. Maybe someday, I would be able to. Until then, I am no different than that sapling, fated to forever be stunted.
Maybe it was yesterday; I could not be sure. All of my co-workers have given their own accounts of when they last saw her. She failed to show up four days ago, and the recent two days were reportedly her off days. Missing work isn't indicative of having disappeared; it still could have been yesterday.
We had been messily gathered together for an impromptou meeting. He began by saying the disappearance was actively being looked into. It was then that people had chimed in to provide alibis, collectively figuring out it has been four days since as previously mentioned. That wasn't wrong. However, their testimonies were honest in a manner I did not expect. Interjected between their last sightings of Catherine was everyone's uncertainties of her.
I was seated in the very back up against a wall, so nobody took notice of me. Nobody did, until they collectively remembered the only person they knew Catherine talked with. In an instant, I was staked in place by their gazes; my own was naturally drawn to the floor. From the corners of my eyes, everybody's expressions seemed smeared and unrecognizable.
If I were to say them aloud right now, I would not have an issue communicating it, nor would there be an issue in understanding it. And it was precisely for that reason that I chose not to give my alibi.
I was the one Catherine valued the most, the one she sought after more than anyone else here. Yet, I am just as uncertain of her as the people she set aside for me. That is the reason she's missing.
That must be what they can read from my lack of expression. They must already be certain of it. There is nothing to argue for or against here. I remained fixated downwards until everyone's stares were withdrawn, which did nothing to unpin me from the ground.
I was able to tune it out as nobody chose to provoke me past that moment. I cannot recall anything, not even the mood of the room; they could have all been crying as far as I know. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. No matter what we do, say or feel, Catherine will not come back. I can be certain about that.
It is because of this that I don't wish to dwell much on it. I had already realized what I did too, so I wasn't being tormented by uncertainty today. I sat alone for my lunch break today and watched over everybody else just as I used to. Today they decided to, just as they did earlier, send gazes my way. I could not discern what their gazes meant. That is likely because their faces had always been smeared in my eyes.
With that, I could move on to the next set of assignments that needed to be done. The difference between them was meaningless; the goal was to simply get them finished to move on to what was next. The moments in between start to finish are trivial. I could gain and lose everything in that time and the sun will still set. And in the morning, everything will still remain the same.
Today in particular, I felt exceptionally hollow spending even just a minute in my own home. Maybe if I had taken time to furnish it, that would be different. Instead, I am alone with my own uneasy thoughts. When I opted to sleep early that night, I saw Catherine's flowers still sitting by the window in an otherwise empty home. That was when I realized nothing in my life had really changed.
Since I became an adult, nothing's ever felt the same. I was always familiar with that sense of dissatisfaction, that sense of loneliness. Familiar enough to always be okay with it, given how little I valued change.
When I met Catherine, change was suddenly thrust upon me. Now I could no longer deny what was being put in my face. I still had hope, as fragile as it was, that I could turn things around; someday I could know what it was like to live. To wake up and look forward to the coming hours, have connections. To be cared for. But the part of me that had already made up its mind fought to keep myself, in its eyes, safe. It wanted to protect me from something. It might've just been fear of the unknown. Seeing Catherine every day was enough to hold back all the thoughts that I would forever live unsatisfied with everything. It was not enough to win, though; it wasn't enough to regain the strength to be more. For months, I remained on that precipice, teetering between being able to fall back into despair or to spread my wings and fly.
I simply never made one to begin with. For all that Catherine wanted to lift me up, I never did so much as acknowledge that hope from her. If I can't manifest my own feelings, then what value could they possibly have to somebody? Why shouldn't a stunted sapling be left to die in the winter?
It is the reason why my life had so easily gone back to the way it was before. Every moment I could think of that could prove otherwise was entirely meaningless and held no merit, because the only thing I am sure of in this moment is that I am the one who killed Catherine's heart. Even if I regret doing so, regret won't undo any of this or make it right. None of this will ever be okay if everything stays the same.
Catherine in her presence, I in spirit. As much as my body was very much still functional, I was not the same person. Whoever I was and however little of it was there had been removed and replaced with nothing. I could not remember who I was before this or what had caused all of this emptiness. All I could understand was that things had always been this way. I had never once had hope. I had never loved anybody. I had never been hurt. And I continued to live that way, missing a heart and never questioning why.
But for all that I wished for it, I didn't ever take the initiative. I told myself a lot of reasons why I couldn't manage it. I didn't want to commit to my dreams. I'm lazy and never wanted to be challenged in my life. Nothing I do will ever be worthwhile to Catherine, or for that matter, worthwhile to anybody.
I became entangled in a web of them, and forgot the kind of person I truly was. When I skimmed each thread to try and remember, I kept finding the same story everywhere.
I hated every selfish reason I gave and every outcome of everything and every version of myself until I decided to stop.
To stop hurting myself by trying to escape my misery. I closed my eyes one day and let myself be overrun with weeds. When they finally spread through my entire body, I was no longer able to hear my own heart beat - and leaving alongside it were my haunting memories of Catherine.
I had already struggled to be emotionally open with Azalea, for as much as she meant to me. She never took issue with that. It was only when she told me I meant just as much to her that I grew uncomfortable. I realized, even overrun with weeds, I still wanted to be more. Catherine's voice came back, unintelligible and twisted after being buried for so long. I still wanted to be free of that misery, and I did so the only way I knew how. I closed myself off and let myself be overrun again. Only this time, there was somebody who would have to watch me die.
Her message is the same as before. It was the same message I heard as I was letting myself sink into self-hatred. The voice I thought was haunting me, the voice I suppressed alongside my heart... It only wanted me to never forget something.
Every Catherine always loved every Terra.
But before I could fall victim to all the lies I destroyed myself with, I was able to remember what had mattered most. No matter how many times I destroyed myself, someone still cared for me. And with that, my hands were able to uproot the walls that I had been trapped in with one final swing. And in doing so, I freed myself, forever.
Once the air calmed and everything fell to the floor, I saw a figure appear before me. The one who held on tight to my heart, and pulled it from the depths of hell.