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Not that she was content, by any means, since she couldn't actually feel content anyway.
But no one had to know that, right?
She scratched at her left shoulder and turned to get dressed to face the day ahead.
---
After a long day of slowing down particle fusion to make her scientist friends happy, Joxans once more had a content look on her face.
She once more got dressed, but this time it was so that she could face what lay in her dreams.
They hadn't been what most would consider the norm in dreams either, even if they were dreams..
They felt so.. real...
There were many voices, they all said the same thing.
They whispered it.
They screamed it.
Heck, some of them even sang it to the tune of Michael Jackson's "Bad".
But they all said the same thing:
Help us!
Help Us!
HELP US!
Help us,
Help us,
You want to,
Uh-huh!
"WHO AM I SUPPOSED TO HELP!?" Joxans screamed at what was soon becoming a cacophany of voices arguing about which song was more appropriate.
Silence.
Help... Us..?
"Who are you?" she cried into the nothingness.
We are all the hearts. All hearts.
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
It means you will help us. They said.
Just wait. They will come.
"Who will-!?"
YOU WILL KNOW!
Because you'll know,
You'll know,
You'll know it,
Uh-huh!
SHUT UP GEORGE!
... Sorry...
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