261. Corruption

I am in front of my crystalline counterpart, and instead of attacking, I stay still.

It doesn't move as well, and although there is no face on the polished smooth surface, I know it is watching me.

Then I hear the screams, the same pain-stricken screams I had heard today, unsure where the sound is coming from.

I touch my head, and the figure does the same. I have a headache.

Why is someone screaming, and why am I hearing it so vividly, as if it is real, as if it had been real?

The table had flipped, the violet coin in my mind is pulsing; although this isn't real, this is a dream—or is it?

No, it is.

After our talk in the bathroom, I did crash into my bed, I remember.

What is going on, and what is wrong with me?