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Edward spent most of October 2008 recovering from his coma. When he wasreleased from the hospital he moved in with his mother at her request. Shewas getting up in the years, but still embraced the opportunity to look afterhim again like he was once again her little boy. He put what few belongingshe retained after his adventure in the basement of her townhouse in London,Ontario.Life went on as normally and plainly as one could imagine. It took him awhile to adjust to his new surroundings, and he quickly learned he wouldrequire a computer. He used the proximity to visit family he hadn't seen in awhile and used his spare time to begin writing the novel he had beenpostponing since May of that year.It was the fastest year of his life to date, but all the years prior to that feltthe same way at the time. The seasons changed like looking through anelapsed lens. The snow had come and gone like the women he dated to keephimself socially-occupied when not writing or visiting friends.He had taken in more music and more movies than any other year of his lifebefore that. It was peaceful to him that his focus was on expanding hisunderstanding of the arts while trying to submit his own ripple in the world'sartistic memory.In his solitude his cynical side was allowed freer rein and his relationshipswere significantly affected. The close bonds he had stayed close or closer,but new bonds were difficult to form. He retained a pessimistic view at thepopulation, finding himself unable to see past their intellectual laziness andoverall lethargy toward rewarding ambitious pursuits. All his friends were intheir mid-twenties and were either married, had kids, or had finally startedsettling-down. He felt discouraged when regarding the opposite sex; hefigured it would be impossible to find someone who was even remotelycompatible enough. He presumed if he somehow found a way to like them,they would find his approach to life illogical and undesirable. He dreamed of travelling the world with someone he truly loved by his side--the only goal,happiness; the only need, each other.In spite of of his pessimism he entertained the idea of women as his friendsattempted to set him up with various suitors through the months of 2009. Hemet his share of people at parties and get-togethers, but they were all shortlived. There wasn't a single person with whom he retained an interest pastthe second date.
 
Bewildered he gave up and retired to his writing. His new novel had finallystarted making progress as the summer of 2009 came to a close andSeptember approached. Edward found love in his word-processor andtravelled the world as he had hoped, but alone, and in his mind only.He wrote about love, about a girl--a fictitious projection of his deepestdesires--and projected himself with her as they mirrored his adventures withhands clasped.In early October 2009, his cousin Shep--whom he frequently talked to, andwho was easily one of the closest people in his life--had suggested he trollthe waters of his Facebook account. Shep suggested that amongst thehundreds of contacts Edward had online, one of them must be compatible.Edward, who enjoyed challenges and thought experiments, obliged Shep'shypothesis and started sending unsolicited messages to people on Facebookwith whom he had not previously corresponded. His pessimism remainedfortified as he sent out the first round of messages. There was one profile he found curious, however.He noticed this girl, April, who had the exact same things written for herpolitical and religious views as Edward himself had once written. This causedhim to scroll down and browse through her profile information. He becamemore and more interested when suddenly the sensation of being in the rightplace at the right time crashed upon him. That very April had come online.He preferred the live chat to the inbox-messaging as he knew it would givehim a rather quick interpretation of the person's potential intelligence or lackthereof.And that's when it happened.As the words 'April is writing a message…' appeared on his computer screen,Edward experienced immense vertigo and he sank deep into his bed. Thewalls began folding down over his head and pressing down on top of himuntil he fell completely through his bed and landed on a black linoleum floorpervaded by fog. He looked up to see a long gothic hallway with openarches on one side staggered along the walls every few dozen meters. There was a voice resonating from somewhere down the hall, maybe frominside one of the arches. But a sense of fear fleeted his desire to continuedown the hall, so he turned around to hopefully return home.
 
When he turned around, he was face to face with the sharp teeth of hispessimism grinding in a way that could only be interpreted one way. Edwardunderstood he must proceed down the hall.Edward turned again, sighed, and proceeded to walk. He stepped slowlyunsure of his steps as the soft voice he heard from before echoed onceagain."Hello?"Edward's pace quickened a bit, unafraid of this other person. The voiceseemed vaguely familiar and welcoming. The questioning feminine greetings continued as he ambled down the hall--getting louder until he approached the first arch.He turned to see only a mirror in the arch, but it wasn't himself he waslooking at. It was instead a reflection of him in a different form--a younger,prettier, female form. Unsure of whether the reflection was real or sentient,he too questioned, "Hello?""Hi," she said. The two of them went on to exchange platitudes, smiling and satisfied theyweren't alone in this tunnel. They talked for as long as they could. Edwardwas refreshed by how much he enjoyed listening to her. It had been analmost unaccountable amount of time since he had felt that enthused aboutanyone. He felt confident he could stand there talking forever, but it wasn'tlong before he heard a familiar grinding coming from back down the hall. Itwas the same monster of his past--his cynicism, his failures, and his sorrow,and it was gaining on him again. Through the glass, April seemed unaffected and unaware that thismalevolent force was bearing down on Edward. Somehow she must haveunderstood the anxiety and worry in his face as his monster neared, becauseshe suggested they part for now and meet down the hall at the next arch.As soon as Edward cleared the view, he began to sprint down the hall, awayfrom the beast chasing him. He ran and ran, picking up speed. As heapproached the next arch, the chasing grinding sounds subsided, and hetook a breath.He walked into view of the next arch, but didn't see April. He took a momentto reflect on the last few moments. Why was he pursuing this girl, and why
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