You Won't Wake Up: A CreepyPasta FanFiction (Watty's 2014)

Twenty Years of Memories: Toby's POV

Lyra was a good person.

She always was.

Good in school, good at art, good at singing, good at sports, good at just being alive.

And then she had to drive the car that day.

I should've driven it.

She would be alive, she would be in college, she wouldn't have to hate herself as much as I do.

I hate myself.

I look in the mirror, and I see her face.

And I haven't seen Clockwork in years.

I remember her, though. How kind she was, even though she had no humanity. Even though she was a monster, she was like me. And isn't that what matters?

That you're alike, I guess.

Her face is vague, but I've seen photographs of her.

And that's enough.

It's enough.

But I know that one day, when we get out, we won't be back as we used to be.

We'll separate.

And die.

Because if it wasn't for being together all the time, for asking for something that every human desires, we wouldn't be here.

We would still be alive.

I walk into the room, my handcuffs taken off fluidly. I get to leave in three years. Just another three years in here, and I leave.

And I'll be dead.

I recognized Clockwork immediately, I had to stop myself from running up to her and hugging her. Based on Masky's expression of confusion and the clear disgust on her face, there was obviously tension in the room.

And it was a boiling pot waiting to erupt.

She refused to answer to Clockwork.

She wanted to be called Natalie. I complied, but was taken aback.

She had told me several times how much she hated her name, Natalie.

She said she called herself Clockwork to forget it.

But now she wants it back.

I shrugged it off, hoping maybe she was just used to it.

But it wasn't just that.

She didn't seem to remember me.

Someone had told me once that there's such a thing as selective memory loss, in which you block out certain traumatic memories. But I don't consider what had happened to us traumatic.

But she did.

And I hated sitting next to this stranger. I nearly wanted to strangle her, but I knew that Clockwork was still there, somewhere.

But I won't try to change her. If she wants to be Natalie, so be it.

But she isn't Clockwork.

She'll never be Clockwork, not now, not ever.

As far as I'm concerned, Clockwork never existed.

And that's enough.

That's enough.