It’s like watching a timeline of the most significant memories he had, those that shaped him into who he is today. A glimpse into the depths of who Kalen truly is and the things that haunted him, made him happy, everything that made Kalen, Kalen.
His earliest memory is horrible, from what I can tell. At first, I feel like an outsider watching until the vision warps, and I am suddenly Kalen, seeing the world through his eyes. I feel what he must have been feeling, enduring what he endures. I find myself running into a room with gray paint and peeling wallpaper, exposing mold-covered walls. Beds line the room in rows, large bay windows overlooking a city I don’t recognize, and the room is ice cold, making me shiver.
He crawls underneath his bed by the window only to be ripped out by his
