Consumption

You came slowly to your sense. You could feel your breathing, shallow and strained with exhalations not unlike that of a wooden whistle. Your eyes open, the dim light causing a stinging, burning sensation. the source of the light is just out of your view. [[Investigate Light Source]]

As you crane your neck to look at it, you are overwhelmed with an intense, throbbing pain seeming to course through the entirity of your being. But at least now you can make out the small, burnt out candle on your bedside table. You question yourself. Why had you not extinguished it earlier? What had you been doing before you lost consciousness? You focus your gaze on the table... what else was there? [[There was a Book]] [[There was a Locket]] [[There was nothing.]]

Your eyes rest on a small, dark leather tome. Your memory is jogged at the sight of it. You had been looking through it, that was right. You //needed// to keep looking through it. You could not leave them behind. [[Reach for Book]]

Your eye caught a small, golden locket. It was laying open, and though your eyes strained, you could make out a photograph encased within. [[It was of a man...]]

That is right... There was nothing. why had you been so foolish. Foolish enough to believe that there would be something there. The only thing you had left these days was your mind. And your thoughts were cold comfort. But you think anyways. You've only had your thoughts for all these years. Perhaps you should write a novel? as if you could even hold a pen in your state. The true tragedy of your circumstance? You were a tortured mind with nothing that could resemble an outlet. You would not be a tragic figure with a lasting impact. You'd be just another forgotten soul. You aren't sure if anyone remembers you even as you still breath. [[Why do you torture yourself so?]]

You lift your arm. It feels odd. It is heavy, but weightless. stiff, but loose. You manage to shakily reach for your book. you bring it towards you, but you cannot possibly read it in this position. [[Sit Up]]

In defience of your body, you lean yourself against your headboard. The throbbing pain which seems to consume you reaches a crescendo, but moments later dips into a dull noise, still part of you, but no longer the sole sensation which fills you. You blink a few times, clearing your vision. You turn the first page. It's borders are gently splattered with blood. You begin to feel a coarse sensation rising within you, as your lungs cry out, you hold your handkerchief to your mouth. The crow call that escapes you suddenly jogs your thoughts again. How long had it been since the consumption had began? and how much longer until it's work was complete? You banish the thought from your mind. [[Return to the book]]

You refocus your thoughts first, then you refocus yoru eyes to the book You took a moment to remember who it was from. Their name was inscribed on the front cover. you glance the spot where you know it should be... But all that you find are the dark maroon stains you've grown all too familiar with. You turn your glance to the first page. It is a photo. You stand, looking much more fit, with another person. You delve deep into your mind, searching for the name of that person. [[Her name was Evelyn]]

That was it. Evelyn. You seem to recall the events surrounding your relationship more than Evelyn herself, and certainly more than the nature of your connection to her. She was your age, you remember that. You were born just days apart. She was, that's right, she was the daughter of Alisandre, who ran the library. You and she had spent many days there together. You remember your own parents, as everyone else had long forgotten them. They were scholars, but they had fallen ill. You had watched as they died, doing your best to care for them. Evelyn had tried her best to remain at your side. [[Turn the page]]

You turned the page. You gaze at the new picture. This one was old, the edges were tattered, but the photograph remained intact. It was of you as a young child. You do not recall much from then, but you remember this photograph. You held a small basket of produce. Your parents had sent you to the market for one thing or another. They had sent you with just enough to get what they had sent you for. And yet, you had managed to get away with a few extra fruit. At first, you believed that the people of the market were simply being kind. but it was that day that you begin to believe that there was something about you, that the rules which seemed to govern each person did not apply to you. You recall moments where you believed you could not die. You feel foolish now. [[The third photo]]

You look to the third photo. This one was just Evelyn. You can't seem to remember when this one was taken. She stood outside her mothers library, a grin expanded across her face, spanning form one ear to the other. You begin to remember, that was the day that Evelyn's parents had inform Evelyn of their retirement. At the end of that year, Evelyn had been set to inheret the library. You feel warm, remembering her elation, but your chest begins to sink in, and you feel all the colder after that warmth leaves. Evelyn never did inheret the library, but what was it that happened to her... [[...there was an accident]] [[...She left the month after]]

You remember that day clearly now. The library had burned down. You cannot recall an exact cause being revealed, but you vivdly recall one key fact Evelyn had still been inside. [[No...]]

Evelyn left town. You can never recall her motives, but you can recall the betrayal you felt. You spent the last few years since her departure watching the old library fall to pieces. It had traded ownership several times, but none of the owners seemed to care for it in the way that Evelyn's family had. When it finally gave way to the rot and abandon, it felt as though you had lost a part of yourself. you could feel another coughing fit rising within you. as you hold your mouth to the handkerchief, you begin to realize that you'll be losing much more very soon. [[The book ends]]

The book ends after that final photo. You begin to recall it's purpose This book was a memento, it was a token of your relationship with Evelyn It had been you who had taken that final one, you recall. You were happy for her. You both had loved that library. But then why was that photograph of you at the market there... [[...oh...]]

That... was right... She had bought them for you. Not directly, of course, but the haze which had covered your memory had begun to clear... [[Remember.]]

You remember your past so clearly now. You had always been a solitary child. Your parents had been buried in their studies, and you lived several towns away from your nearest relatives. You spent many hours- at times, even full days- in the library. Evelyn had taken note of you then. She would watch as you devoured the libraries contents page by page. It had never occured to you how you were always able to find books that interested you seemingly just laying around. In hindight, that may have been the beginning of your belief that you were, somehow, special. [[That day at the market]]

That day at the market... Evelyn had left just ahead of you. You had not known it at the time. As a matter of fact, you had not even known Evelyn at the time, not really. So you didn't know what she would do. She had paid them in advance for the fruits. that was right. She had felt bad for you... She told you this, on that day. [[The day in the first photo]]

That day... You had known each other for years at that point And the day at the market was finally brought up. She told you what she had done, and you remember feeling... Conflicted. [[Why...]]

Why had you reacted like that... Your initial reaction was anger, you felt betrayed. You were... special? You had to be. [[Why did you do that?]]

Why did you lash out at her? You do not remember much after that. You do not know if you want to. The next month was when she had left town. That was right... [[It was your fault]]

She left because... of you... You had to have known how she felt at that point. It had been obvious... You begin to shake your head, with much pain... You could not remember whether she actually felt that way, or if you just wanted her to feel that way. Whether you wanted her to feel that way //about you//. Your arms feel weak. [[drop the book.]]

The book falls from your hands. your eyelids feel heavy. You can feel a stinging in your eyes from where tears have begun to well. You need rest. You slide back down, your head hitting your pillows. And you drift back into unconsciousness. [[The End]]

"Consumption" A game by Avery Hampson Made in Twine 2 using Sugarcube 2.36.1. Font: Shadows into Light Would you like to [[Begin]] again?

You don't want to remember this. You aren't even sure you want to remember her anymore. [[This feeling...]]

You feel... faint. A mixture of sudden exhaustion and despair overwhelm you... You feel yourself lose consciousness. The book falls from your hands... [[You fall]]

Before you can even lay back down, your mind begins to fade. Is this sleep? it feels like something more. or, is it something less? Is this it? this is what you ponder in... [[The End]]

Because you have no other choice, you respond. If you quit thinking, do you yet live? you may as well have died already if not for your thoughts. How could you suggest that? You have to hold on. Your thoughts keep you anchored, no matter how painful, how futile... [[Why do you not give in?]]

Why should you? You still have blood in you. Do you not yet live? You are more important than this illness. You are //better// than this illness. You will not let it take you. [[You can not live forever]]

"Why can I not!" ... You notice a moment too late that you spoke aloud. Your voice is hardly there, and even with all the visceral rage you could spit out, it is hoarse and rhaspy. What happened to you? [[You wish you knew]]

You do not have an answer. You take a moment, pondering what you have become. You are a shell of a person. You are not even sure if the word person includes you anymore. You feel exhausted... No, You are not sure what you feel anymore. [[Will you ever become the person you once where?]]

No, you will not. You can not return to that time. In essence, you have already died, your body has just survived past your soul. You begin to wonder if you should just give up The resiliance you held mere moments ago fades into a feeling of futility. This disease will take you soon, anyways. [[Why let it win?]]

Let it win? Yes... Why should you let the disease take you. You should chose when you die. Yes... But how? you can barely turn your head, there was no way you could manage to get up and carry through with this idea... You were foolish. You had nearly forgotten that you were already dead. You were just waiting for the disease to decide to release you... [[How much longer...]]

You do not know You begin to hope it's not too much longer... No... you want more time. No... you need more time... No. You need relief. For now, the best you can do is... [[Sleep.]]

You close your eyes. For the first time in many weeks, you have decided to sleep all on your own. As you feel your consciousness sleep, you can not help but feel a slight longing. It's the closest thing you've felt to hope in a long time. [[The End]]

The man in the locket was Frederick. You had known each other since you were children. His father was a professor at the university which seemed to be the reason your town developed. Your parents were scholars, studying artifact and foreign texts. They worked closely together You and Frederick spent many hours together as a result of your parents [[You recall the games you would play]]

Ah, those games. Frederick had always been a creative sort of soul, creating rules which would further define the abstraction of play. Although you knew that his rules were optional, and that following them was something that was completely within your agency to ignore, it had always felt as though he was bending the laws of reality around you. You wish you had his power now... You ponder what ever did happen to him? you hadn't seen him in... quite a while... [[His father, though...]]

His father had died when you were still young. The same illness that would take your parents several years later. The same illness that had now found itself housed within you. You were still only children when Frederick's father died. It had to have been hard on him... You desperately search your mind for his fate. No matter how much you want to, you simply cannot believe that he is still living on as he once did. [[Ponder his fate]]

The last time you could recall speaking with him was while you could still stand. You had met up in town, you both had been undergoing financial struggles. You were both orphans without an inheretence, you had found boarding in different common houses, and lived in relative squalor. The two of you had remained close, and continued to speak and meet on the regular. This instance was not simply a friendly meet up. [[You strain to remember]]

You had met to disuss your finances, namely your housing situation. Frederick had proposed the two of you pool your finances in the hopes of purchasing a house. It would be small, but it would be reliable, and sustain the two of you for as long as you needed it. You agreed with Frederick, and soon the two of you were pooling any money which you could scrounge up. [[Recall Frederick's Fate]]

You didn't have enough at first, but he left the finances with you. You recall feeling a sense of pride at his trust in you. You took your joined savings, and the two of you both agreed to find a way to earn the remaining money required to purchase a house. Several weeks after, you found yourself in the benefactor of a fortunate windfall... [[It can't be...]]

You had the money to buy the house... and so you did. But why didn't you tell him? You kept the house from Frederick. Why... You recall a sense of... the only word which comes to mind is entitlement. You had the money, you held the control. Frederick was an afterthough. You can't understand your own reasoning now, but you did betray him. Frederick found out, of course. he was righteously furious. You had betrayed him, after all. You have no way of knowing what ran through his head. But you are able to know what you did, and how it affected Frederick was all too apparent. Frederick went back to his room at the common house that night. He would never leave it again. [[You feel tired.]]

You cannot stay awake. You do not want to. The pain of these memories, only componded by the overwhelming sense of responsibility you feel for them. they have to go away. [[Slip into sleep.]]

As your consciousness fades, you only think of one thing Your desire to join Frederick. You are unsure whether it is out of remorse, or self-pity. [[The End]]