IV - Safe
Even after Sunset fell silent, Wallflower—that was her word—never tried to move. She stayed motionless on the floor, blinking up at all the nothing around her.
Was that what she was seeing right now? Nothing? No, that wasn’t right. Wallflower knew the nothing—it was safe and soft, like a warm shroud on a cold night. Just because she couldn’t see anything didn’t mean she was seeing the same nothing she came from.
Where is it?
It was nice, that nothing. Was Sunset nice too? It would be easier to tell if Wallflower could find her.
She left you.
She missed Sunset, almost as much as she missed the nothing. They both made her feel better. When would Sunset come back? Would she ever come back...?
Just like everyone else.
Of course she would. Sunset was nice. She must be nice, because she was holding Wallflower after she came back from the darker-than-dark place.
When will you leave her?
Yes, she concluded. Sunset was nice. Idiot.
Pain. Will have to try again.
Her head hurt. How did that happen again?
You failed.
She must have hit her head on something, something she couldn’t see. Maybe she hit her head on the nothing—not her nothing, but this nothing all around her right now.
It’s not yours, idiot.
Was this really nothing? No, she reminded herself. It wasn’t anything, but it was not nothing. And either way, it really wasn’t safe, not if it hurt her head.
What else will it hurt?
Her nothing would never do that. There was no pain when she was with her nothing.
It’s not yours.
Would she ever be able to go back there? She hoped so. But how to find it? Try again.
Try again.
Wallflower blinked—at least she thought she did. It was impossible to tell. She tried her best to flex her muscles, starting with her fingertips. Despite remembering how to move, she found doing so now to be impossible. It was as if something had disconnected her mind and body. Only the parts that moved, though. She could still feel. She knew because her head still hurt.
It hurts. She made it hurt.
Sunset said something to Wallflower about a stone. Maybe someone threw a stone at her, and that’s why her head hurt.
Don’t listen.
Maybe when Wallflower asked Sunset things, Sunset wasn’t telling her the truth. Why would Sunset do that, though? She was nice. Was she nice...?
Was she breathing? If this place wasn’t anything, she wouldn’t be able to breathe. She was breathing. She could feel her lungs expanding and contracting, just as she felt her head hurting.
She’ll hurt you.
That was good. She needed to breathe.
Liar.
There was a sound—quiet, like Sunset had been—and Wallflower started breathing faster. She didn’t like it very much, but she couldn’t control it any more than she could control her arms and legs.
It isn’t safe here.
Her head hurt. She still couldn’t move. She heard the sound again, and it was closer. Was it? Maybe it was just louder. She couldn’t tell, not when there wasn’t anything. But if she heard something, then it was something. Now she knew it was definitely not nothing.
God, you are stupid.
The sound was louder, like wind rushing in her ears. It had a tone to it, rising and falling and rising again, sometimes shaky and sometimes calm. It would stop for a while, then start again.
She’s going to hurt you.
Wallflower’s heart pounded in her chest. She couldn’t move. Why couldn’t she move? She focused all her energy on lifting her legs, fueled by a sudden desperation to get away from whatever nothing-not-nothing she was in.
Not safe.
Not safe. Not safe.
Not safe. Not safe.
Not safe. Not safe. Not safe.
Not safe. Not safe.
Not safe...!
Run...!
Her limbs stiffened, shuddering. Even though Wallflower couldn’t see, she knew she was in danger.
You have to run.
Where was Sunset?
She wants to hurt you.
Sunset was supposed to be nice. She was supposed to keep Wallflower safe. Why did she go away and leave Wallflower with this awful noise?
She left you.
Maybe she went to the nothing. Wallflower wished she could go away with her.
She’ll kill you.
Without Sunset, she was scared. Without Sunset, she was all alone. Why would Sunset do that to her? ...Familiar.
Was she always scared? Was she always alone? Maybe Sunset wasn’t nice.
You have to get away.
If Sunset wasn’t nice, why had she talked to Wallflower at all? It was because of Sunset that she had been so warm when she came back from the nothing.
Don’t trust her.
Maybe it was Sunset’s fault that Wallflower had to leave the nothing. Maybe Sunset took her from there, stole her away from the darker-than-darkness that made her feel okay. Maybe Sunset wanted it all to herself, so she ripped Wallflower from safety and left her here with this fake nothing that was only cold and scary.
She’ll never let you go back.
Sunset must have lied about being nice. Sunset must have pulled Wallflower away from the nothing. Sunset must have been the one who made her head hurt. It still hurt, even now. Was it worse than before? She didn’t know.
The noise was louder again. It must be closer. Was it going to hurt her too?
Yes.
The louder the noise got, the clearer it became. Its muffled whispers took form as they rose in volume and pitch, creating a sound that Wallflower could at last recognize.
“...Wallflower?”
A voice. “How are you feeling? I got some ice for your head.” Her voice.
Don’t let her trick you again.
She started to see colors. The more Wallflower listened to Sunset’s voice, the more the nothing-not-nothing faded away. Her vision was filled with featureless patches of red and yellow and orange and white.
If you do, she’ll kill you.
“Can you hear me? Wallflower?” Sunset’s face took shape before her, and another color came to life. Blue eyes stared down at her, warming her very soul.
It’s all a lie.
“H-hey, can you hear me? Speak if you can hear me,” Sunset said in soft, shaky tones. “Or move, or... Blink...?” Shakier with every word. Was she scared? It sounded like it, but Sunset lied to her before. She lied about being nice. Nice people didn’t lie.
“Wallflower? Say s-something!” Hands on her shoulders. She could feel them, just as she heard and saw Sunset, just as she felt her head hurt. It was all real—it wasn’t a lie.
“O-oh no, oh no no no...” Sunset sounded so scared... Was she really lying? How could she be? Everything else wasn’t a lie.
“W-Wallflower, please, wake up!”
Don’t.
She blinked, then blinked again. Slowly, she turned her head so that her eyes lined up with Sunset’s blue ones. They were blue. Bright blue.
“Wallflower!” Warmth wrapped around her, holding her tight. “O-oh thank Goddess, I was so worried!”
In that moment, Wallflower felt safe. When Sunset pulled back and she saw those blue eyes again, she felt even safer.
Get away from her.
Blue was a nice color, so Sunset had to be nice, right? No.
“Are you alright? I-I thought you might be—oh, uhm, what’s your name? Do you still remember? Can you tell me your name?” Sunset spoke so fast. It was hard for Wallflower to keep up. Whose fault was that?
She took a deep breath. It felt good to be in control of her breathing again. “...What?”
“Your name!” Sunset was louder again. Wallflower’s head hurt a little more, but at least she understood the words this time.
“Whh-allflower,” she said. She took a quick breath so she could be sure she’d finish the sentence. “My name i-is Wallflower.”
Are you really that stupid?
“Yes! Good, okay—sorry, sorry. I just had to be sure.” Sunset wrapped her in warmth again. It was really nice. That meant it must be really safe, too.
She wants to kill you.
Wallflower struggled with her own muscles, at last breaking free of their lethargy and sitting up. Doing so forced Sunset to let go, which wasn’t what Wallflower wanted. Maybe she should have stayed still. If she had, she would still be warm and safe. Not safe like the darker-than-darkness, but Sunset was the best she had until she could go back.
She’ll never let you go back.
“I’ve got the bed all set up for you, okay? Here, let me help you up.” Sunset took Wallflower’s hand then moved under her arm. She stood, and Wallflower had to stand alongside her.
“I’ll lead you up the stairs, okay? We can take it slow.” Sunset took a step, and Wallflower did the same. She stumbled a bit, and fear gripped her heart for a moment when she thought she was going to collapse. The fear evaporated when she realized Sunset kept her from falling. Sunset kept her safe.
It’s all a lie.
They moved up the stairs one slow step at a time. The first few were tricky, and Wallflower almost fell a few more times. Sunset held her up, though. Sunset kept her safe.
They reached the top, and Sunset helped Wallflower reach the bed. “I’ll go get the ice,” Sunset said. “You just lie down, okay? That bruise doesn’t look too bad, but better safe than sorry.”
Wallflower repeated those words over and over in her mind. Better safe than sorry. It was true. Sunset said it, and it was true. It had to be true because Wallflower felt so safe.
You’ll be sorry.
Her head didn't hurt as much. It hurt even less when she closed her eyes. Maybe closing her eyes was a good idea.
Her breaths were getting a little slower. She took a few quick inhales, just to be sure she was still in control of her lungs. Once she was sure, she let her breathing slow down again.
You shouldn't trust her.
Wallflower squirmed a little when she felt something touch her forehead. It was cold—very cold—but it made her feel better somehow. When she opened her eyes, she realized why. Sunset had given her the something-cold, so of course it made her feel better. She smiled, and Sunset smiled, and then she closed her eyes again.
Sunset wanted her to feel better. Sunset was nice. Sunset would keep her safe until she could go back. She must know that Wallflower would be safest with the nothing, so she would help her go back.
Idiot.
Idiot. Idiot.
Idiot.
Idiot.
You idiot.
She won't help you go back.
She's not stupid like you.
She knows what it means.
She knows.
She knows. She knows.
Why would she help you?
She already stopped you twice.
She doesn't want to let you go back.
She doesn't want to help you.
She wants to kill you.
You think you'll go back if she does?
Are you really that stupid?
You can’t go back if it's her.
It has to be you.
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The strange inner monologue(? dialogue?) within Wallflower is just so enthralling, the way that the faded words address her directly and yet she never directly interacts with them, just reacts with her thoughts. It's very interesting that the way the other voice gets Wallflower's attention, gets her to take it seriously, is through saying that Sunset wants to kill her, especially in the face of what Wallflower just did and the entire notion here, as represented in the title, of being safe. How in the nothingness she felt safe, and in Sunset's arms feels the same way; it's a striking choice of words.
At least Wallflower's not listening to that voice in her head. However, I have a feeling that's probably going to change...
Man, beyond the obvious "Wow, look at all this suicide" stuff, your stories have some pretty great characterization. Wallflower and her inner voices are sweet. Sunset is great. You're really good at writing characters and crafting the story around them.
However,
this is a Trixie just for you
There's a lot of ominous stuff here. That's one of the ones that got me, just through its delivery alone. She wants to kill you is another one. Is it paranoia? Is it the threat that her fragment is at risk of fading completely on recovery?
Oh and word choices! Does the rest of her not recognize her as a real her?
Also, your Sunset is fantasticly written. I can see a lot of struggle in her future. I also dread a moment where she inadvertently does something to challenge the Sunset = Safety world view.
If I had to guess...the faded words are her self-doubt/loathing or her old self. Maybe both.
Looks like Wallflower got trapped in a state of sleep paralysis. That is not fun. The discord of her voice though, I hope Wallflower never decides she's going to listen to it. Can she even hear it? Whatever the case, it would certainly add a lot scary drama.
Poor, Sunset. I'm wondering what she is going through right now. Considering what's going on with Wallflower. She seems super stressed, and incredibly worried.
Can't wait to see what's next.
9778610
Gucci memes
Yeets dogecoins
This story is so good i might need to check the rules to see if I can't write fanfiction for fanfiction
Thank you.
The ghost text fucks me up every chapter, but it's so good.
Damn son, thats some A++ usage of text colouring right there, hope to see this go on, if only to see what wizardry you'll do with formatting next.
You know, you have three stories to your name in which Wallflower commits suicide, and yet each one of them comes across as unique, respectful and interesting in their own way.
Wallflower's inner voice is probably the most prominent feature to Hollow, and you've paced it in the story very well. As obvious as it might sound, your use of transparency and the erratic formatting really adds something - it perfectly evokes the sense of dark thoughts, lurking deep in the recesses of your mind, finally being allowed to bubble up to the surface.
I remember you saying that you work well in dialogue, so having Wallflower be almost unable to speak gives her and Sunset a really interesting dynamic - while Sunset's able to voice her thoughts and emotions, you let Wallflower be characterised by body language and some really impressively expressive mumbles and murmurings.
Going back to the uniqueness of your Wallflower stories, at the end of Hollow, I guess I'm left with questions. How are Wallflower's memories and functions going to come back to her? If bit-by-bit, then her earlier memories of Sunset could set up some pretty awful conflict between them. What's the purpose of that haunting inner voice? It certainly seems to be more than her own thoughts, certainly seems to know more than her own thoughts right now ("...she'll kill you."). How's Sunset going to cope? While she seems to be holding up okay now, soon enough that dam's got to break, and Sunset's guilt that you alluded to can't be helping matters.
A lot to unpick, but it's been well worth reading so far. That last inner monologue really is ominous.
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wow, thanks for the encouragement :v
The void? Oh, wow. Now I'm torn even more between thinking that the greyscale voice is Wallflower's inner hatred etc. of herself, or if she has developed DID (maybe), because I've heard of DID often feeling like "being stuck in a dark room" when the sufferer's main personality is not in control. In any case, I like the simplistic language of the third-person limited narrative contrasting with the harsh, bitter words of the greyscale voice. It lends this story this almost dreamlike (nightmarish, more like it) flow.
As Duck mentioned, something that sticks out in Wallflower's fragmented state—and a familiar theme in your stories—is Wallflower associating Sunset with safety. I think it hits the hardest for me here because of how confused Wallflower is every conscious moment, down to how to use words and what they mean. The one thing that's shining through to her, however contradictory it is at points, is how this person makes her feel safe.
But, as I've said before, there's a difference between feeling safe with someone and simply not being scared of someone. Right now, I think it's the latter, even though something happened last chapter that (briefly) challenged that for Wallflower. Assuming the greyscale voice is the self-loathing one, those urges and attitudes come from somewhere; they don't exist in a vacuum. I'm thinking that Wallflower must have been abused and traumatized beyond the social isolation/alienation of FF. And I'm wondering if that's going to come back to her, assuming more bits of memory are on their way.
The clever use of formatting in this story is what makes it shine on a technical level. On a narrative level, you have a really intriguing idea here. Solid prose, good characters, lots of tasty breadcrumbs. Even with only four chapters up, you have a great hook for more to come—whenever that may be. No pressure, seriously.
damn idk why but this line creeps me.
And Wallflower's inner monologue is so--well written and mysterious. But why did she think that?
Welp cant wait for next update!