( Peter never would have expected the creepy skeleton house to have such a chill housemaid, but honestly?? She seems really easy to talk to.

(She's not.... really the maid, Peter....)

He closes his eyes even if they're already covered by the cloth, relishing the sweet relief of just lying back in darkness and not moving. He feels like one of his dad's patients lying back on the couch — or is that just a psychology stereotype? Peter had never actually ever been to see a psychiatrist, himself. )

And this place keeps forcing us to remember shit anyway, so... feels kind of moot to try and forget. ( He notes dryly. His lifelong method of "suppress what hurts!" really doesn't hold up in a place that can literally summon forth ghosts from your past. )

I guess 'everything' sounds pretty dramatic, but... feels like everything. ( The list of things he's trying to run from is so long, he's constantly tripping over it. But there are a few things that stand out, and while usually he's not the type to just share personal tidbits so freely, Peter is recently in a state of "fuck it, might as well." )

My girlfriend's Corrupted to hell and back, my best friend returned to the ocean and I'll probably never see him again, aaaand I'm possessed by this crazy demon who's making a pretty good life for itself here. ( He moves his hand around as he lists the items. )

...I'm remembering again why that spice stuff sounded so appealing.