It seemed as if everything was finally back on track—
Tommy. Keller. Lanny. The lady next door and her baby. Crocket.
Everyone had found happiness, each discovering their purpose and focus in life. The world, at last, seemed to return to its proper course.
Except for him.
So, as long as he disappeared, everything would be perfect, right?
Perhaps, that was the simplest solution of all.
Evan lay in the bathtub, turned on the faucet, and watched the icy water flow, inch by inch, submerging him.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let the water envelope, submerge, and consume him. The world faded into endless darkness.
But things were never that simple.
Buoyancy pushed him to float, his body refusing to sink entirely. As the bathtub began to overflow, he resurfaced.
He tried holding his breath to force himself under again but kept struggling.
That's when Tommy walked in. Spotting Evan floundering in the tub, Tommy rushed over and pulled him out.
Tommy didn't think much of it, assuming it was an accident.
Evan, disheartened, admitted he had been trying to end his life.
Unexpectedly, it was Tommy who comforted him instead. This strange reversal broke Evan further, "I can't even manage to kill myself properly."
Tommy hugged Evan tightly, offering silent companionship. Despite the bitterness, despite the struggle, Tommy forced himself to stay strong.
"I need to get you out of here, or visiting hours will be over," Tommy said.
Visiting hours?
For what?
Before the audience in the theater could process their confusion, the film revealed the answer—
Andrea. Lung cancer.
Once so vibrant, Andrea now lay gaunt and lifeless on a hospital bed, reduced to a shadow of her former self.
Evan froze.
So did Nicholas.
On the big screen, a face appeared—haggard, disheveled, despondent. Scruffy facial hair, messy hair, dark circles, and chapped lips highlighted his pallor. Worst of all, his brilliant blue eyes had lost their light, replaced by weariness and despair.
Those eyes stared blankly ahead, flickering with emotions—panic, fear, timidity, anger—all tangled in a web of helplessness and exhaustion.
He couldn't scream, couldn't cry.
The helplessness and confusion overwhelmed him in an instant.
And it overwhelmed Nicholas in the audience too.
Nicholas opened his mouth slightly, trying to say something, but no coherent thoughts came. Those blue eyes dragged him down like a free fall, plunging into an endless abyss.
"Ever since I blew myself up, have you been a smoker?" Evan muttered softly.
Andrea was taken aback.
Tommy tried to soothe Andrea, "Sorry, he's been acting strange lately."
But Evan wasn't paying attention. Lost in thought, he murmured, "I can fix this."
"Fix?" Andrea asked.
Evan spoke to himself. He needed his journal. But then he realized—he didn't have hands in this timeline. How could he find it? What could he do to go back?
Evan's panic grew. His memories jumbled, timelines colliding, cause and effect spiraling into chaos.
Andrea watched Evan sink further into his turmoil, tears rolling down her cheeks. "You… you're just becoming more and more like Jason…"
Andrea's voice broke with despair, but Evan didn't notice. His mind clung to one thought: Save Mother.
With Lanny's help, Evan found the only journal left in this timeline. Before the mailbox explosion, before Crocket's death, he had no choice but to return to the moment he first began writing the journal. He discovered a solution:
If he destroyed the detonator early, none of it would happen.
Evan rummaged through the kitchen and found a knife. Just as he prepared to leave, Andrea saw him.
Before he could act, Andrea stopped him.
Suddenly, Evan snapped back to the present. Nothing had happened.
And then, Evan returned to that fateful afternoon in the basement while filming the movie. He rushed to find the detonator and destroy it, but George, trying to stop Evan, accidentally lit the fuse, tossing it.
Keller picked it up.
When Evan woke again, he realized he'd ended up in juvenile detention. From there, his life spiraled—drifting, falling into despair, and ultimately winding up in a psychiatric hospital.
Evan tried to find his journal again, but the doctor told him it never existed.
"It's just part of the fantasy your brain created to cope with the guilt of accidentally killing Keller Miller," the doctor explained.
"Think, Evan, think. You invented an illness that doesn't exist, bouncing between the university, prison, and your paralyzed self's imagined world."
The doctor told him he was insane.
Evan didn't believe it. "I want my journals. I know you have them. Give them back to me. Stop lying!"
Evan's eyes burned red as he screamed, roared, and begged, his sorrow overflowing uncontrollably.
Nicholas was utterly stunned.
For a moment, he almost believed the doctor—that everything had been Evan's delusion, a story born of a fractured mind.
Or was it?
Deep down, another voice held firm, insisting the events of the film were real, beyond ordinary comprehension.
So, what was real, and what was illusion?
And more importantly, what was "normal," and what was "madness"?
When they looked at the patients behind bars in the asylum, they assumed they were mad, dismissed their words as nonsense, and locked them away to preserve order.
But who, then, was truly mad? And who held the truth?
(End of Chapter)