Ami

What you read here is for you to make your own assumptions about. You can choose to believe or not believe what I am about to tell you, but please, for the love of God, don’t argue about it, just please, for the sake of HER. This is a story about the supernatural, about the afterlife. It’s probably fake, I was probably hallucinating, but I still need to get this off my mind and let other people know about it.

I never really liked the Legend of Zelda, and I was amazingly surprised the first time I picked up a copy of Majora’s Mask for the first time. I loved it, and that very thing was where I met my love. She was the one that showed me Legend of Zelda, and when I first played it I told her she would be Anju, because I thought Anju was the prettiest. She giggled and blushed, and somehow over the next couple months we got together. We were so happy together, and we continued to play Legend of Zelda, and soon she would show me many more great games.

Then one day it happened. We were having a mixture of playing Majora’s Mask and having a snuggle contest, then she got up to go get the mail. Some drunk man went insane that day and shot up the neighborhood.

I tried so hard. As soon as I heard a bullet fired, I knew she was gone. I cried myself to sleep for a good month afterwards. I contemplated suicide. I wanted to be with her forever, I wanted to go down to that graveyard and pull the trigger right over the spot where she was buried.

Eventually, through a good dose of pills and therapy, I was emotionally stable. Temporarily. I couldn’t bring myself to either sell the games and try to get over them or put them away forever somewhere safe. I was selfish. I continued to play them, trying so hard not to think about her.

Then I picked up Majora’s Mask again.

I started it up, trying to keep my emotions stable. I took a few pills to calm me down. This was the game we had played, the night before it happened.

I couldn’t keep it in when I saw her profile still there. I cried for a good half an hour, going back into my room to roll up in a ball and lie there with pictures of her. When I got it all out, I came back into the living room and made sure to keep her profile there. To remember her by. I would never play it.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I started up my profile, named “John”. Everything was normal. What, did you expect some hyper realistic blood to come out of the screen and kill me? No, everything worked fine. The only problem was that it was a Gold cartridge, yet ran like a Gray one. If you are extra nerdy you will know what I mean. Basically it means, crappier quality, and a few bugs. I didn’t understand why, so I looked up why it could have done this. I couldn’t find it anywhere on the internet, which puzzled me, because I figured someone would have at least lied about it for attention. I was really concerned about this, and promised myself to phone Nintendo later, even though they probably didn’t answer questions about Nintendo 64s anymore.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">But all hell broke loose when I visited Goron Village.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I remember Snowhead so vividly, because that was the part she was at before it happened. I could remember exactly where everything was, all the enemies, I could pinpoint the exact location of every rock, Goron, and house. But when I warped to it, it was eerie, almost scary. Every NPC model was gone, only a few Tektites. The small particles of snow that fell from the sky looked gray, almost like ash. It was very disturbing to me, especially because the road back to Termina Field was blocked off by snowballs, and I suddenly didn’t have bombs or the blast mask in my inventory. You have no idea how fear-inducing it is to be in a game that is usually full of life and occasionally happiness, just to be stuck, alone.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I didn’t find this coincidence, my girlfriends death place being the very place that is giving me this haunting feeling. I am very open-minded about the paranormal, and I was more excited than scared. I was too naive. I thought I would finally be able to talk to her again, and I was almost shedding tears of joy at the thought.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">However, I started to get angry, there was no way out of this hell, and I didn’t know what to do. I started thinking that perhaps she wanted to talk to me, but just couldn’t at this time, but I couldn’t find a way out without drowning myself, or getting killed in another way. I was too afraid to kill myself, because I was afraid that if I killed myself, her entity would die with me. I figured the only other way was to progress forward to Snowhead Temple, perhaps there I would find some answers.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I progress to Snowhead, unblocked by the Goron, as like I said, no NPCs were present. I rush inside and click on the “Go to the temple’s boss” option.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">What I am greeted by is me teleporting to the boss chamber, however, I have transformed into Adult Link from Ocarina of Time somehow. I didn’t find this possible, but what did I care at this point? I was so excited to finally be able to talk to her, I didn’t care if I was insane at this point, as long as I could FEEL like I had communicated with her.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Standing across from me is the model of Anju. I shed quiet tears.A speech bubble pops up.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Where were you?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">There are no options. I speak out loud.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“I’m so sorry my love. I’m so sorry. I love you always.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“I don’t need you.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I started sobbing at that.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Please, babe, I can’t live without you-”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Then stop.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“I wanted to, I can’t though, other people care about me, and other people cared about you too, do you want them to kill themselves too?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Come. Let’s play.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">My N64 crashes. I restart it and look at the save files. Everytime I try to make a new file it pops up with a familiar dialogue.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“That won’t do you any good, heehee.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I decide to do what I couldn’t bring myself to earlier. I click on, “Hayden(her name)”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I am teleported to the Stock Pot Inn.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Hide and seek. Let’s play.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Anju walks around the corner. Her entire eye textures are replaced with a pure green. I run over to the counter and use my shield to crouch down. I didn’t dare let myself lose. When she finally walks by, up the stairs, I run over to the corner where she was standing, and go into the room where Anju’s grandmother usually rests. She is limp, and when I try to talk to her, a dialogue pops up.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“She’s not moving anymore. Better leave the body here.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">My heart is racing as I hear the door open. I run over to the darkest corner and crouch down, begging to God not to be seen.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I wait for another ten minutes after she leaves, then exit the room. I run into the kitchen. The hand named ??? from the bathroom is in here, poking out of the cauldron that Anju “cooks” with. Whenever I talk to it, a dialogue pops up again.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“No wonder her cooking tastes so bad…”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I almost vomited. That was sick, that was a sadistic joke, and I couldn’t take it. Anju walks in again and I crouch under some jars to hide from her. She walks out and I walk upstairs. I don’t want to see any more bodies, I try going out the roof exit, but as soon as I try to open it, It says it’s locked, and Anju walks through it, but her eyes have changed. Instead of being a crude green textured color, they are more beautiful, they have the whites again, and pupils. They look like the exact same color as Ami’s actually. I am still scared out of my mind and run to the corner with the boxes and crouch. I am screaming, waiting for her to come end it.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">She slowly approaches, and turns me around. The animations for this are a lot better than I thought was possible for an N64. I notice that Link has tears of fear in his eyes. Anju grabs his chin, and they meet eyes. Link stops crying. I stop screaming. There is a small pause where everything is quiet, not even sound from outside my house.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">She says something. Not a dialogue box, the Anju model opens her mouth, and Ami’s voice comes through my speakers.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“I’m sorry, love.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">She meets her lips with Link’s, and I can feel a faint sensation around my own lips, like someone else’s are around mine. I reach out with my hand, and feel around in the air. I find what feels like her cheek. Tears run down my own. I close my eyes, picturing her face. I kiss her, or the air, whatever this is that I feel. When I open my eyes again, she is standing in front of me. I mean, not her, more of a ghost of her, like those blue versions of Obi Wan and Yoda in the last Star Wars. She talks again.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“I’m glad to see you again, love. I’ve been waiting for you. I’m sorry the things I said earlier. Don’t kill yourself. You can still live on, and if you ever want to visit me, just play our game again.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“I love you so much, never leave me, stay with me forever. I love you. I love you.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I stand up, and give her a hug. I hug her so hard, tears running down my face. We sit down, just the way it was when it happened last time. Me and her continue to play Majora’s Mask, snuggling, and then I say goodbye, and turn off the N64.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I still turn it on every day. I see her everyday. I understand what was happening in the game.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">She was angry that I hadn’t played Majora’s Mask, and she was letting her anger out. She always used to get her anger out at people by playing fucked up tricks on them, or telling them evil jokes that would make them cry, or vomit. It was a bit sadistic in a way.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I still visit her everyday. We are still happy.

 

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">-EPILOGUE-

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">*3 weeks later*

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I am writing this from the mental ward. This is my note to you all.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">They found my journal you just read. I was sent here. They think I’m insane. I don’t understand this. I was probably insane, but what does that matter? I was happy, WE were happy, and this fucking ward took that away from me. What does that solve, what do they know? How does the only thing I wanted in this world being taken away solve my mental issues?

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Anyway, I’ll make sure that everyone who cares about me nearby will get an invite to the funeral. It won’t be too gruesome, maybe just a noose or an OD on their pills. All I can say is, all I want you to know, is that you never trust these places. They are fucked, and they only cause more problems, not solve them. I’m insane, but I’m happy too, so it shouldn’t matter to them. Goodbye.

<span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">~John