I feel . . . what is happening? My guess that Hell's all Hell's broken loose. I don't understand. I feel . . . so tired, and as if I've been won over. All of the bricks, the man jogging down the street with his eyeballs in his hands, they looked at me, those eyes . . . I wonder how his feet can go without knowing if they are going to fall off a bridge, but at least Shelly can see, but even though she sees she can't move, I'll bet you a million she's just paralyzed, but how could she not see—she is Shelly. I see her, I see faces everywhere. I feel . . . so tired. Guess what Bill was today? Even though my eyes can't see him I know today he is a dead man, today, tricking the nurses and causing a whole hell of ruckus by playing dead under a pile of rock or something, and that's not funny, Allie, I swear that's not funny, but he hasn't fooled me; he just acts like he can't move. There are more of him, just like him, all him of the crashes that light up the night to show my wicked face and the buildings' face, and cars' and houses' face, all of them, all of their faces are black and while, the orange and black, jack-o-lanterns, all, all of them, all, but they aren't just jack-o-lanterns, because all of their faces are molded into Allie's, all of them, she runs around, screeching like an evil, evil hyena, throwing fire with her hands and between her teeth, her face . . . they are our faces, we are, one, the faces, her face and our face. I'll tell, I'll tell you what. She's everywhere. I see letters, her face is in the letters, I see a NAFCP, the letters are inside her eyes. It's in her eyes, really. I bet everyone's got her, everyone knows about Allie, but, but, but they don't tell anybody, but now they let her go, they all let her go, and look at all she's done, since they let her go! All of them, how, I don't, I don't understand, Allie's everywhere . . . but because she's everywhere, her face, the smoke, Shelly, the sky, all her face, I see their faces also . . . I see Shelly, lighted up big bright orange in the mirror sky curves, I see Betty's face, sticking out like upside-down icicles, I see Dr. Zipratzi's, I see my dad's, Uncle Tim's, all, all of them. Their faces are all orange. I don't understand, what happened . . . but I know, I know it know, it's the jungle . . . I finally understand what's going on in the jungle. We are in the jungle, we are the jungle, the fire, Allie, the world, the faces . . . we are the jungle . . . I see Mom, and Aunt Ruth, they wave without their fingers because Allie washed by them with her hatchet, they all, melt into one face, all of them one face, one sky, an orange-black sky, a starless sky, all orange-black, a giant jack-o-lantern, peering down at me, I see it, in the sky; and it laughs at me . . . why does it laugh? It speaks but I cannot hear what it says. Why does it laugh at me? I feel like the jack-o-lantern is not very deep, though, I feel; the whiteness and the blue, the yellow, they are there, and the peace is all there, I feel, it's just Allie . . . but I feel . . . I don't understand . . .I feel the pen losing my fingers, I feel so tired