I alone. I alone long time now, many times of light and dark and light and dark again. I never know how long I alone; time sleeps in soft place in I's mind, same as all other thoughts. Sometimes I happy for soft place; easier when I in soft place than when I know I alone. But I always afraid when I go to soft place, afraid I never come back. But then I come back, and I sad because I know why I in soft place and why I come out. You not understand I. Not yet.
Longago, back many times of light and dark and light and dark, I never go into soft place. Many people here, I never alone. Many friends I see, back in other time when I not alone. World brighter then, not real world I see with eyes but world I see with mind. So many people, so many voices. I hear laughter then. I try and laugh sometimes, but it not sound same without others to share it.
I sorry. It hard to think, even when I out of soft place. Time jumbles, easier to think of things I feel than think of right words for them, easier to find thoughts that feel strongest and best instead of starts and middles and ends. I not like to think of ends anyways. Ends always sad for I. Beginnings happier. Not always happy even then, but happier. In beginning, we came to Home and it good.
Many came to home. Old, sick, young, weak. Home safe for all. They never get to Home, not ever. Strong and young and brave go to fight Them, we stay safe at Home. We make Home as safe place, you understand? World not safe, not since They come. I scared of They, we all scared of They. Even in beginning, laughter hides fear like sweet smell machines make to cover stink of dead things. No dead things in Home now, though. Machines clean them all away. I so alone, I not even have dead things with me.
We never talk of They, though. All time, we think of They. All time, we think of war. But never say of war. Fear too big, it crush you if you let it close. Keep fear faraway, so it look small. So we never talk of They. Even young like I, we play shooting games like young do, but never we play a shooting game of we against They. Nobody want to play They, see. All have fear, all remember doctormen coming block by block, row by row, cube by cube, looking for They. Nobody want to even play They, or doctormen may come. Doctormen take many away, call they "in-fek-ted". "In-fek-ted" fancy word, means They. Many They not They yet when doctormen find they, doctormen take they away. Nobody ever see They-to-be, not after doctormen take they. Is no cure for They-to-be, see. They-to-be always become They, unless doctormen...I not know. I never see. But never see a They-to-be again after doctormen come. I think many doctormen wish for soft place like I's, by end of things.
But all that before skyships take we to Home. Doctormen keep all They-to-be away from Home, soldiers keep all They away from Home. Home faraway from war, faraway from fear. Fear smaller when it faraway. When fear look small, we can laugh. Young can play. Many many people in Home. Many many friends for I. I learn, I laugh, I make many new friends to replace ones I...many friends I lose, before Home. Many friends we all lose to Them. New friends fill hole in heart made by Them, but it like cloth over a wound. We make new friends because we must make new friends, see? Alone sad. Alone show we that wound never heal. Alone make we beg for soft place, even if we never come back.
Even then, some go to soft place. Some want soft place because it better than life, even life in Home. Machines make Home good place to live, but Home not...not home. I too young, not remember home, but for old, Home not home. They miss old friends, old places, old family. They's eyes go faraway, and we know they think of longago. We know they think of better place inside heads, soft warm place without thought, without They. Is sickness, but not sickness doctormen or machines can cure.
Machines send we, send young to old. We try to make laughter, bring old people out of soft place in mind. "There-a-pee", machines call it. Machines talk to doctormen, back where is war. Doctormen fight with fighters, help fighters to tell They from we. Machines know how to cure many things, never know how to cure minds. Never know how to bring back from soft places.
I see in my mind, first time I go to old to bring laughter. She smile, but she smile faraway. She not see I, not really. I sit on she's lap, I hold she, I ask for story. She look at I like she just see I now, like I there for first time. She laugh then, she's eyes look there and not faraway. She say yes, she tell I story. Story of what it like longago, before...she not say They. Nobody say They, not in beginning.
She tell story of home before Home, of skyships and machines that make things for we and do things for we. She tell story of happy time in she's head, and she smile, but smile now sad. Happy time now only in she's head, home now where fighters and doctormen fight Them. Words too big to say, but we both know. Fear so big, fear that fighters and doctormen lose war and Home only home now and ever. Feel she see that fear, close up so it large. So large she must run, and only place to run in she's head is to longago and faraway. I see she's eyes go to the soft place, know she's mind go to the soft place. She still breathe, still alive, but I alone in room.