Chapter 79: I think I might have to kill the Korean karnean ku-ran

I felt like crying at this moment.

Hours spent scouring the wall and floors, tapping, punching, kicking. I'm going crazy.

It's decided.

I'm going to kill that butler!

Or at least try.

Maybe.

Possibly.

"What do you think, Cyan?" I asked my ever so helpful baby dragon. Cyanide sighed at me, like I was the most dramatic, repusive non-human pope in existance. Well, okay, I may be exagerating, but still. My feelings are hurt by your crass attitude, Cyanide.

But I did name you Cyanide, after all.

God, I'm losing my sanity in this place. But that statement would mean I had it in the first place. And I think at this point, it's...no I'm still relatively sane, unless this is all happening in my head, and I'm just in a coma from a failed attempt at suicide with a butter knife.

I honestly don't even know how I succeeded If I'm being honest. A fucking butter knife. It's like trying to cut string with a dull toothpick.

Whatever.

I have decided to attempt to murder the butler. I'm already going off the deep end, so I might as well add not Korean Korean butler killer to the list.

His name is so confusing, isn't it. Korean Karnean Ku-Ran. What a mouthful. I know you, mini-pope, and some part of my Brian are screaming at me, "THAT'S NOT HIS NAME!" but I'm currently trying to keep myself from going crazy and so my defense mechanisms are up to a thousand. Apparently mis-naming people is a part of those mechanisms. And denial. And using humor to deflect and defuse situations.

I might need help.

Unfortunately, I don't see myself getting any in the forseeable future.

Professional, at least.

Or even not-professional.

...I'm hungry.

I wonder if Korean karnean ku-ran is going to pop up anytime soon. preferrably with his strange alien foods that taste better than they look.

I also miss google.

And fanfiction, because apparently I didn't realise how much I like fanfiction until just this second.

Maybe I just miss being able to do the mundane and normal things I could do back in my old world. I mean, yes, this world has it's own versions of technology and religions and ethnicities, but it's different. And the contrast is staggering. Some days I can barely breathe looking at the diffferences, even the littles details send me over the edge.

Like how Frankenstein isn't a book here. Or a movie, or anything. It doesn't exist. Instead it's "The doctor and his monster" and it's a gay romance of a guy and his animated corpse. It's disturbing and surpisingly popular even though it has Necrophilia as one of it main themes. Or like how Twilight isn't a thing. Instead it's called "the werewolf and his mate" and it's JACOB and Eddie being "soulmates" and jacob imprints on him and everything. So really, I feel like I'm constantly reading fanfiction but having no access to the originals so this fanfiction becomes cannon. It's not like they're not good books, it just everything here is a variation of the other world.

Even the people.

We're mirrors in some ways, and a black screen in others.

I sometimes think the only reason I haven't gone crazy is that I haven't had the time. Or the brain compasity.

But I have an abundance of both now.

And, just like I thought, I'm slowly being driven insane.

But in this moment, It's not because of media and literature, nor is it because of my appearance or the love of my seemingly young life, neither is it my family or how I'm not human anymore. It's because I'm hungry. I'm so fucking hungry. And it's not for food, though I could eat something.

I hunger for something I can't have, don't have access to at current.

And I'm tired. Too tired for only having lived till fourteen, and only eight to ten years in this world.

I'm tired. So tired. And hungry.

But I need to get out of here.

Hopefully, soon.

But for now, My only option is to wait for Thanos' alien lover comes to visit with food, or just to simply open the door.

Cyan could use some dragon milk, too. I bet he's hungry.

God I want to go home.

See Irene. And my Jewel. And the twins. And maybe even, If the ritual worked, Sheri.

I miss Sheri.

I miss Drake.

I miss Lucille.

I miss everyone.

I even miss being the goddamn pope and getting loaded with paperwork by that old geezer.

Most of all, I miss being me.

But it's been a long time since I was me.

So now I can only find an alternative to missing them, to missing me.

A distraction, even.

So.

Spending the afternoon brainstorming ways to kill that not gray Korean alien seems like a good, fun distraction.

So that's what I'll do. And maybe in doing so, I wil find something I'd been missing. Or at the very least, take my mind off of my very dreary situation.

If only.