I awoke to a loud click. The camcorder had been running all night and had reached the end of its tape. I took out the tape and looked at it. I felt sure that it had recorded everything I'd seen and done, but I could not bear to check it, in case it was blank and the things that had been so real -
I dressed, and dropped a couple of things into my bag. One was the tape.
The train journey was a long one, with several changes. No-one talked to me, and for that I was grateful. Each station seemed like a notch on a stick towards a final goal, and as I approached the end, I began to realise that the things I'd forgotten had been given back to me. They were no longer in that warehouse, dancing eternally on some strange loop for the Envoys. I had freed them, just as Dominic had freed my "father", with his knife.
At last, I stood in front of the house, just as I had last night.
I knocked, the door opened, and I can't really describe how I felt about then. There was anger and horror and deja vu, but it was all bound up together so it couldn't escape.
The look on his face was surprise and engagement - but I could recognise something else. He had been caught out.
"Hello father. Don't be surprised. I know. After all these years, I finally remembered."
And then the other thing came out of my bag, glinted briefly in the light, and then followed the path of its sibling into the heart of the man who had destroyed my life.
Dominic had been right. I suddenly felt very peaceful, as I stepped over the body, tracked blood into the living room, and phoned the police.
There was a lot of shouting after that, but I told them my story, and no-one hurt me. I felt sure I glimpsed my therapist several times during those days, but all she did was stand motionless, staring at me with a patient expression on her face. She was never called on to give evidence, though, and I'm not sure if anyone else even saw her.
Then I was taken to Wychwood, and I have remained here ever since.
Why have I waited so long to write this story down? I told you at the beginning that it had taken this long to sort out, but I'm afraid that is simply not true. I am telling the story today because I think that this is my final day. I never played that tape, but then, I don't need to. I can see the Envoys standing at the end of my bed, ready to take me to the place where I too, have been forgotten by the world. Dominic is behind them, and his smile of encouragement is all I need.
I will put down the pen now; I need my hands free to reach out to them.
THE END