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He wasn’t sure how long he’d been here. Time felt immaterial here in the nothingness. He knew he was alive, or as alive as he could be, trapped here as he was. How had he ever thought this was a good idea?
He knew why. He still agreed it was necessary, but he hadn’t considered the repercussions.
He was afraid he would no longer be himself when he was finally freed.
He would be freed. Even if it hadn’t been part of the original plan. He couldn’t stand this existence. He had a plan. He had to remember the plan.
It had to work.
It would work.
It felt like his body was on fire, it ached, but he knew that wasn’t possible. It was just phantom pain.
All he had was his thoughts, but even those seemed to swirl around and around seemingly without purpose. He struggled to focus on anything for longer than a moment. Or maybe it was longer than a moment. It was impossible to tell. He didn’t even know how long he had been here. Was it merely days? Or had it been years? Was the plan still in motion? Had it worked? Was his purpose fulfilled? Was he doomed to this for eternity? Had his plotting really been worth it?
Afterall, how could he have known he’d remain awake? That hadn’t been part of the plan.
And now he was trapped for all eternity. Doomed to this half existence, a mind without a body, but that believed so much that it had one, that its absence ached.
NO! He had a plan. He had to remember that. He just had to wait.
All he needed was one person. One curious person.
He would be freed. He would be freed. Hewouldbefreedhewouldbefreedhewouldbefreedhewouldbefreedhewouldbefreedhewouldbefreedhewouldbefreedhewouldbefreedhewouldbefreedhewouldbefreedhewouldbefreedhewouldbefreedhewouldbefreedhewouldbe–
He had to keep reminding himself. This wasn’t forever! It couldn’t be. This existence was worse than the worst of curses! Why had he thought this was a good idea? Why hadn’t he considered the consequences?
He knew why.
That same fear still drove him. Though this half existence had made that fear stronger. He would get out. He had to. There was no other choice.
And when he finally did get out—
He wasn’t entirely sure what he would do. Would he join his other self? Were they still alive? Had the plan worked? It had to have worked. Otherwise this would have been for nothing. This half existence. This brain without a body. Yet a mind that couldn’t concentrate. That couldn’t focus.
He needed to get out. When he did get out he’d forge his own path. He was owed it! He was the one suffering the consequences of his other self’s decision, of his fear,
their fear
.
He would make it out. He would forge his own path. He would become even greater than his other self. He’d find another way to accomplish his goals. There had to be a better way. Something besides the stupid idea that had left him like this.
His body ached. He didn’t have a body. He needed to get free before he went mad. He couldn’t go mad. He wouldn’t!
He needed to focus on the plan. He only needed one person. One curious person.
And then he would be freed. He’d be free. He would be free Hewouldbefreehewouldbefreehewouldbefreehewouldbefreehewouldbefreehewouldbefreehewouldbefreehewould—
AAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He needed to focus. Everything hurt. He needed to remember the plan. He would forge his own path. He’d be free. And he’d live. He would.
He just needed one person! Just one! One person and then he’d be free. It would work. It had to. There was no other choice. He refused to submit to this existence forever! He refused to submit to madness!
Just one person.
Curse his other self for condemning him to this! For not thinking things through! For not considering the consequences! Curse his fear for making him even consider this desperate option!
He would find another way when he made it out.
He just needed one person. Just one.
Everything ached. It was hard to concentrate.
He needed to remember.
His name was— his name was—
Panic was all he could feel.
He needed to remember! He couldn’t forget! How could he forget!
His name was— his name was—
AAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He needed to— he needed to—-
His name was— his name was— hisnamehisnamehisnamehisnamehisnamehisnamehisnamehisnamehisnamehis—
Sensation.
It felt so strange after all this time. It was almost terrifying.
He stretched toward the feeling.
There!
A voice, but not, someone calling out to him.
Finally, at long last, someone had found him.
Dear Diary,
This is my first day at Hogwarts. I’m so excited, even though I’m going to have to deal with all my brothers.
But Harry’s here! He’s so cute. I doubt he’ll notice me though.
The prefects are telling us it’s time for bed so this is all I'm writing for tonight.
Thanks for listening,
Ginny Weasley
Yes! Yes! Yes! Finally! He was going to be free! He was going to be free!
He reached out again, pulling his awareness to focus on that singular point of connection. He took hold of that connection and solidified it, linked them, he and the writer, this Ginny. He could feel their magic and he tugged.
It was exhilarating! It was life itself seeping back into him!
But he needed more. He needed them to pour their entire soul into him. He had to keep them writing, make them pour out more of their soul into him.
He twisted his awareness, using some of the magic he had stolen to write back.
Hello Ginny,
He hesitated. What was his–
Tom. His name was Tom.
My name is Tom.
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
And soon, he would be free.