” He says. He then switches off the lights and leaves me in the darkness. I cry and slump on the floor. I hate myself for making my father detests ...nd loathes me. It disgusts me that I have made my own father hates to even touch me or look at me. I blame myself and nobody else for the grave horrible mistake that I have made. I simply sit on the floor and cry for God knows how long. I feel awful. I wipe the tears from my face and slowly stand up. I feel so miserable. I take my time as I walk up. “It’s always the same color.”“Does anything ever happen to these colors that stay the same?”“Yes. Little strings of them shoot around sometimes, but not all at the same time. That’s what made me think they’re memory. It’s like they’re books on a shelf and one gets used now and then. It’s more complicated than that, but that’s the only way I can think of to describe it.”“And what do you want to do?”“Interrupt the flow from the two parts to the lots of parts.”“And how are you going to do that. We. More

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