Fragments from a Mind Starting to Fade
The beginning of a story told through scattered pieces of memory and madness
Stories never start whole. They begin in fragments.
Moments that refuse to be forgotten, even as reality fades.
Glowrot is no exception. How would each chapter be if they were no more than shards of a broken mirror, forced back together?
Distorted, cracked, and fragile.
And yet, still themselves, in their purest essence.
These are the first pieces, where the cracks start to show.



0
Mirrors are supposed to show you a reflection of reality.
So the monster they are looking at must be real, right?
Beep, beep, beep.
The reflection is still there,
A hideous face, despite all the compliments
It’s too late to fix it. To fix themselves.
The pain is too strong to let it,
there’s no going back once it starts.
They speak again to the nothingness.
This time, the shadows in every corner respond.
At least where they’re going, they’ll never be late.
1
I know the inside of my mouth is not bleeding yet,
the night is off to a good start.
Everything seems familiar,
it’s like I belong here.
Was my drink always this color?
More skin than clothes.
Uncontrollable desperation.
Why?
I see shadows shifting for a split second.
It’s my brain, already filled to the brim.
I smile at the neon sign,
and the feeling gets worse with each gag.
Maldita sea.
I hate myself for doing it. Then I cry harder.
It’s the price to pay,
pink, like everything in this place.
Intoxicating.
My face is melting.
I can feel it.
Humanoid shapes, I smile back.
As soon as I get out,
they take my hand.
It feels good, it’s the right amount of sweetness.
They’re crying.
We are crying.
And I know it will end, and I will forget.
And maybe they know it too.
The words never leave my throat.
2
Coño de la madre.
I don’t remember anything.
So why does life keep spinning?
A familiar chill runs down my spine.
The air thickens.
I scream.
He’s here.
A dot of light flickers,
judging me.
The jagged, distorted smile.
It’s too familiar, almost comforting.
He doesn’t care.
He knows best.
Sometimes, I think he can’t see.
He feeds on it, and on my nightmares.
Gobbles up the bits of fingernails still on the bathroom floor.
“You’reInYourApartment,” he whispers to me.
His presence is enough.
An echo of something far away that once existed or will exist.
I may be in absolute deep shit, but it’s all good.
I don’t need anything else.
I smile.
These fragments are just the start of Glowrot. The cracks will grow. The story will deepen. And if you’re curious, there’s more to come.
Let’s see how far this goes.