Chapter Text
1st stage, Denial.
When Stanley woke up, he found himself lying on the sofa; his back ached from the uncomfortable position and he was heavily disoriented. The young man had no idea where he was, until, suddenly, it all came rushing back causing him a headache.
The Narrator was dead.
Stanley was alive.
However, Stanley didn’t cry.
He doesn’t know if it’s because he had no more tears to spill or because of the feeling he had.
He felt numb.
And from that day on he started recollecting the broken memory shards of his past buried in the deep sand of the Parable memories. He remembered where he worked and resumed his job; he needed the money after all to keep his apartment. Although Stanley’s muscle memory worked just fine with the keyboard, he had a hard time remembering all the codes, making his programming job slightly difficult; but he still pulled through.
Stanley was successful in living a semblance of normal life, but the pain he felt was always there the wound being too raw. Nonetheless he didn’t let it affect him for some reason; he continued going to his job and he did his best to keep working hard even though he still would hear the Narrator humming to the, slightly similar, elevator music, when he left his office or entered his apartment he could hear him narrating his actions; one time he even caught a glimpse of him in the hallways only to find out it was merely a mirage.
Stanley had resumed his old life like the whole Parable caused only a pause in it. He was well aware of the feeling of loss but his mind didn’t deem the situation important enough for him to stop living; he had to keep on going and get his life in order.
He could mourn later.
Later.
Later.
Later.
Later.
2nd stage, Anger.
Stanley had no idea why he did that.
He just went to wash his hands, but when he looked up and saw his reflection in the mirror he snapped.
The young man was dishevelled, his hair greasy, bags under his eyes, he hadn’t shaved in the past week and he was tired. He looked awful.
He looked so human.
So…. ALIVE.
That word set him off because the next thing he knew, his hand was bleeding and the mirror in his office’s bathroom was broken.
Stanley was eventually called to his boss’s office, after his hand was bandaged, and the latter demanded an explanation as to his weird behaviour. The office worker didn’t talk, didn’t want to explain, he just needed to go out and vent his anger to the world and not to his boss’s face since it could get him fired, so he bit back his anger.
“I’m still waiting for an answer Mr. Parker.”
He couldn’t stay silent anymore.
“I lost someone very dear to me.”
The statement carried a lot of bitterness; Stanley felt he had suffered the biggest injustice by having his Narrator taken away from him.
And maybe it was.
“Oh… Is that so? Well, I’m very sorry for your loss Mr. Parker.”
The boss seemed surprised at the confession since he heard that Stanley wasn’t dating and that he had a bad relationship with his family, so hearing that he lost someone dear was quite the shock.
“In that case and with today’s incident I think it’s best you take some time off so you could properly mourn. Will two weeks be enough?”
Stanley barely nodded.
“Right.”
Stanley’s boss felt uncomfortable; he obviously wanted to get out of this awkward situation.
“I’ll write up the form and pass it to HR. You can go home; I doubt you’ll be able to work with your hand bandaged like that. I’ll see you in two weeks.”
He wanted to leave it at that but the man sitting in front of him was a grieving person before being an employee and so he felt he should let him know he acknowledged that.
“Please accept my sincerest condolences Mr. Parker.”
Stanley didn’t answer him nor register what he said. He just understood that he could go home and that he had two weeks off.
When Stanley went through the offices, he could hear his co-workers whispering behind his back but his anger was clouding his mind. He wanted to avoid any more problems, so he just quickly gathered his things, got into his car and left.
3 months later, Stanley was evicted from his apartment.
He had broken everything ranging from the wardrobe to the apartment door.
No furniture was spared from his wrath.
First, was the wardrobe.
It was when he got back home and he opened his closet to get a pyjama; when his eyes fell on the yellow tie jolting a painful memory.
< Stanley for the last time it’s not a tie it’s an ascot.
Whaa…. What do you mean it’s the same thing?
Of course it’s not!!!
Yes, they are both worn around the neck, but an ascot is more stylish than a tie.
You know what Stanley; I refuse to be educated on fashion by a man who doesn’t even know how to tie his own neck tie correctly; I mean it’s so loose it could fall off at any moment. Maybe I should give you some lessons on fashion.
How does that sound?>
Soon enough the anger came back rushing, but this time it was directed at the Narrator.
Maybe he would have given Stanley more than a few lessons about fashion, had that idiot not let himself die. And if he had been honest with Stanley from the beginning the Narrator’s clothes would have been beside his now; he would have even helped him pick up new clothes.
It was entirely his fault!!!
The wooden door had broken when Stanley slammed it.
Second, came the bathroom mirror.
Stanley had been drinking his coffee when he bit his cup, which chattered in his mouth causing his lip to bleed. He hurried to the bathroom to clean the cut but in the meantime he had tasted his own blood in his mouth and he cringed.
You jumped from stairs and bled internally; you tasted more blood than a vampire and you cringe over just a little bit?
You even kissed his bloodied lips and you didn’t cringe; so why now?
Did you perhaps enjoy the taste of his blood?
Especially when YOU made him bleed?
You were too angry with him for lying to even notice he was hurting; how could you claim you love him after that?
How can you look at yourself in the mirror knowing you’re responsible for his death?
Stanley couldn’t.
And the mirror’s shards didn’t cause a wound as deep as the one in Stanley’s heart.
Then came the TV.
< Farewell Stanley.
I wish you a long and happy life in the real world. Maybe you’ll find someone worthy of your love and who’ll love you as much as I did.
I love you, my dear boy.>
Stanley was already pretty pissed off that night.
He had gotten a warning from his manager after he insulted one of his colleagues; well it was the asshole’s fault for trying to steal his pen. Even though the manager said that Stanley was right to be angry, when he explained that the pen was a gift from the person he had lost; he also explained that violence wasn’t the answer.
And so he got written up.
The only thing calming him up was the soothing voice of the Narrator.
<Farewell Stanley.
I wish you a long and happy life in the real world. Maybe you’ll find someone worthy of your love and who’ll love you as much as I did.
I love you, my dear boy.>
Yeah, right.
No one would ever be worthy.
Narrator was the only one who, albeit Stanley’s flaws, loved him to death.
Literally.
And Stanley would never date someone that could replace his Narrator.
NEVER.
<Farewell Stanley.
I wish you a long and happy life in the real world. Maybe you’ll find someone worthy of your love and who’ll love you as much as I did.
I love you, my dear boy.>
Stanley’s anger was abating but not entirely gone; and so he played the tape one more time.
<Fare…*tape screech* well…. St…an…. ley.
I…I wi…wish… yo…u a…*tape screech*.>
Stanley jolted up from his sofa when he heard the machine pop up and saw the black ribbon of the record flowing from it.
Panicked; he took it off and tried to salvage it.
.
.
.
.
Too late.
No matter how long he tried, it didn’t work anymore. The voice was broken now and it reminded Stanley of his beloved’s last words to him.
< It’s…. too late…. love…. Please…. stop trying….and let …me go…>
He did let go in the end.
He didn’t want to; he promised he wouldn’t, but he did.
Why did he always break his promises towards his Narrator?
Why didn’t he stop when he begged him to in the Zending?
Why didn’t he insist more when he felt there was something wrong?
Why didn’t he tell him how much he loved him?
Why did Fate take away the only good thing in that DAMNED PARABLE!
The next thing Stanley knew was that the recorder was protruding from the TV screen causing his already mad landlord to be even more angrier. The young man would then spend A LOT of money on repairing the TV and the few left over from his pay check on trying to restore the last audio clip of his loved one.
Finally, his front door.
Stanley was seething.
Why couldn’t his co-workers understand that he didn’t want to date?!?!?
They had set him up with in a blind date claiming it was an office dinner. They went to a chic restaurant and left him in a table alone; but not for long because a young girl the same age joined him. The girl was nice enough; she even reminded Stanley of Mariella with the way she was dressed, but he wasn’t interested in dating anyone and he told her so just as he got up and left. He did have a fight with his colleagues outside the restaurant, telling them that nobody would ever be able to replace his beloved.
It was now very late at night.
Stanley had had a couple drinks and was trying to open his apartment door, but the alcohol fuelled rage was preventing him from correctly putting the key in the lock.
How preposterous!!
Stanley shouldn’t be pitied for being single and be set up in a blind date.
He was actually supposed to come home to his lover who would be reading a book on the sofa drinking tea; and when he would notice Stanley coming home so late he would berate him for it, but with no real anger behind it because his beautiful voice would be tainted with worry rather than anger.
<Well it’s high time you came home young man.
Do you have any idea of how late it is?
You could have called at least; I was worried sick.
You were stuck at work?
Let me guess; you had to work overtime because you slacked on work again, didn’t you?
Of course you did.
Now, because of your poor work and time management food is probably cold.
What do you mean it’s not your fault?
It ,100%, is Stanley.
No, I will not heat up your food; you brought this upon yourself Mon Cher.>
Of course he would heat the food for him because he loves him.
Then they would watch a movie together and fall asleep in each other’s arms.
That’s what would have happened tonight, had Fate not decided he wasn’t worthy of being happy and made the choice of making his life miserable.
Why take HIM?
Why not Stanley?
Narrator didn’t deserve that … he didn’t deserve to go so cruelly.
Stanley was wrong to blame the entity that day, after all he only wanted Stanley to be happy.
But it wasn’t worth it if the one person Stanley ever loved was DEAD.
Stanley hadn’t registered what he did until his landlord started screaming at him. The man came after hearing the loud bam, had found the hole in the door, decided that he had enough of Stanley damaging the apartment and so he gave him a 30 days’ notice to vacate.
And he did.
Stanley had paid for everything he had broken during his stay and it cumulated to a hefty sum of money, but since he wasn’t working as good as he was before the Parable, his salary was lower which meant that he couldn’t afford to rent another apartment. He didn’t have a lot of belongings anyway so he didn’t mind sleeping in his car.
3rd stage, Bargaining.
Stanley lost his job.
Since he was evicted and couldn’t get another apartment, he had been sleeping in his car. Well, actually he couldn’t sleep most of the time, which meant that he was tired at work and as a result wasn’t as effective, committed faults and even slept at work.
Although his boss was comprehensive, he couldn’t let him keep his job because of his behaviour and so he was let go. They did mail Stanley his check and promised to give in a good word for him if he decided to apply at another job but that’s all.
And so Stanley had no home, no job, slept in his car and had only enough money to get food.
He was in the bottom of the abyss.
However, it wasn’t the loss of everything he had in this life that was hurting him, but the loss of the life he could have had.
And so Stanley found himself pleading.
Pleading with whomever would listen to take him back to the Parable.
He will never complain about doing the same endings over and over and over again.
He will even do the Freedom Ending a 1000 times without whining.
He won’t complain to or about the Narrator, EVER.
He just wants this to be over, he wants this nightmare to end, he wants to wake up on his desk in room 427 and hear his voice, see him, hug him, kiss him.
But Stanley’s pleas were left unheard.
I’ll even accept that he doesn’t remember me; I won’t fight back if he tortures me, blows me up to smithereens or hurt me; he can do whatever he wants with me.
I just…. want…
No.
I NEED him back….
Please.
As the young man’s mind spiralled further, so did his behaviour.
Stanley started putting himself in dangerous situations and indulging in reckless conduct thinking that it would make him feel better about himself. He started to feel he deserved all of what was happening to him and maybe deserved even worse. He had hurt the one person who cared and so maybe if he hurt himself he would repay back the harm he had done.
Maybe then the gods will give his Narrator back?
But Stanley could never go through with harming himself because there always was the Narrator’s voice telling him not to do it because it would only hurt him more than anything. He would appear crying and on his knees begging Stanley to stop.
And he did. But instead came the “What If’s” clouding his mind.
What if he never went to that stupid Zending after their fight?
What if he had insisted when he first heard him cough instead of letting it go?
What if he tried to know about the sickness? Would he have known that the Narrator was lying? Would he have told Stanley the truth then?
What if he had kissed him at the Freedom Ending?
What if he had swallowed his pride and didn’t get angry with the Narrator but instead apologized and told him he loved him? Would he still be alive?
What if he had been a little bit faster?
What if he hadn’t lost consciousness?
What if
What if
What if
What if
What.
If.
4th stage, Depression.
They were all dead.
All the flowers of the flower crown.
He hadn’t noticed it until he took them out to remember his last happy moment.
But they had died; just like his hope.
He gently put them back in his bag and looked at the paper bag on the passenger seat.
Stanley was debating where to go for his date tonight.
He had taken them to the cinema where they watched an old film with just the two of them in the room, then they went to the park and they nearly got caught had it not been for Stanley being a fast runner, and last time it was the old abandoned theme park that still had some attractions working.
And so tonight Stanley decided they would go to the beach.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They were both on the car’s hood in each other’s arms looking up at the sky.
<The moon is beautiful tonight.>
“Not as beautiful as you.”
<Wow; that was cheesy Stanley.>
“Was it?”
<Hmhmm.>
“Well I don’t care; I don’t want to have any regrets tomorrow.”
A blissful silence then settled down. Stanley hadn’t felt this happy since …. Well, since the Freedom Ending.
But the moment was cut short.
By the Narrator’s bitter voice.
<How much did you take this time.>
Stanley knew exactly what he meant.
“Don’t know… I think my body started to build a tolerance, so I took more than last time.”
Narrator, abruptly got up from his place beside Stanley but didn’t look at him; said man shivered when his lover let the cold breeze sift where he was lying on the younger man’s chest.
<How much time left until you decide to go in for another shot of that poison?>
“Narry …”
<Don’t “Narry” me Stanley!!!
What you’re doing is not healthy!!
Neither mentally nor physically!!! >
Narrator was now looking at Stanley, tears prickling and an aggressive tone to his voice that made Stanley slightly irritated.
“Well if you had kept your promise this wouldn’t have happened !!”
The entity’s features changed from surprised to hurt in a split second before he looked away again. And although it was dark, Stanley could see the tears as the moon made them shine like diamonds.
Oh god …. What had he done…
Stanley had promised himself that he would never let that look appear on his beloved’s face again.
But there he goes screwing up.
Like he always did.
“Love I... I’m sorry …I didn’t…”
<Stanley … I may not be real to you… but I know I’m real enough to know what I, as your Narrator, would feel about this.>
He turned around to look at Stanley sadness coating his features and tears streaming freely, but his voice as gentle as rain drops.
<I would certainly be very displeased and undoubtedly…. devastated…
I told you that you had to continue your journey on your own someday, and I wouldn’t want you to be stuck in the past like this or to think about what could have been and hurting yourself.>
“I…I know that but …but…we… I didn’t even have time to……I didn’t have time to tell you… to tell you how much…. I love you…”
Stanley’s voice was broken and wobbly; was it because of the substances he consumed?
Or because of the build-up sorrow he had refused to let out until now?
<I already know ... and I love you too.>
The young man let out a bitter laugh.
“Yeah, right…. like you would ever still love the wreck I became…”
<I would and I always will.>
There was a finality in that statement that made Stanley’s heart ache even more because…
“You aren’t real though.”
Narrator just smiled before he leaned in and kissed Stanley softly on the lips; he then pulled back a little leaving their lips just a breath away and their noses barely touching.
<You may think I’m not real, but deep down you know that my love for you is.
Isn’t that enough? .>
Stanley didn’t answer his head reeling from the love that kiss planted in his heart.
< Can you promise me something before I go?>
“What is it?”
<Promise me you’ll move on and have a better life. If not for yourself than for me.>
Stanley didn’t know if he could make that promise; he was too far gone and he knew it, but looking at the pleading eyes of his beloved he couldn’t say no.
“I promise…”
Narrator smiled again and kissed him one last time before saying
<Stanley do me a last favour; when you look at a Jasmine think of me, will you.>
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stanley woke up startled and lost; he had a hard time identifying where he was.
The room, Stanley was in, was a big white room with sunlight streaming from the big windows that looked upon a gorgeous garden.
Once his senses started working again, the young man heard a rhythmic beeping sound and when he turned his head to where it was coming from, he saw a heart monitor as well as an IV on his left.
Was he in a hospital?
How did he get here?
“Ahhh, Mr Parker. You’re awake!!
What a relief; you had us scared for a moment.”
Stanley followed the voice and saw a male doctor in his mid-fifties, who was smiling cheerfully. He confidently walked to the monitor hooked to Stanley and started talking again.
“Everything seems to be in order; there should be no more traces of the drugs in your system.”
“What happened to me?”
“Oh, you don’t remember?”
At Stanley’s negative response the doctor answered,
“Well a police officer saw your car parked on the beach and found you unconscious on the driver seat. You fell victim to an overdose.”
Huh, that would explain why he felt so awful.
“You stayed unconscious for 3 days; you’re very lucky to be alive. the withdrawal will be awful though, since it seems you have been using for quite some time. But don’t worry you’ll get a professional’s help to get back on track.”
When Stanley didn’t say anything else; the doctor decided to leave him to rest and absorb the information.
“Well then, I’ll come by and check on you later. Make sure to take plenty of rest and if you need anything just use the button behind you to call a nurse.”
Once the man left, Stanley looked over to the window.
He messed up pretty big; he nearly got himself killed, he was lucky a police car came by. Maybe Narrator was really watching over him and protecting him from beyond.
He was given a second chance and he’ll make sure to make the best of it.
He had made a promise after all; one that he intends to keep this time.
Just then a beautiful white flower softly deposited itself on his bed.
A Jasmin; unconditional and eternal love.
<Stanley do me a last favour; when you look at a Jasmine think of me, will you.>
He needed to stay alive for his Narrator.
5th stage, Acceptance.