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Catharsis is the thirty-eighth video in the TribeTwelve series.
"Whatever they have planned for me on the 11th, I just hope it doesn't hurt. Comment if you want, I don't care anymore. I'm so sorry for everything guys. I'm so fucking sorry. The livestream will take place on November 11th at 10:00pm EST on http://www.stickam.com/noahmaxwell"
You know what it feels like to know that you're going to die? To know that you're... not gonna be alive in eleven days? It changes you. Changes the way you think. I've been thinking a lot lately. After the Observer posted those pictures, I... had to wake up, stop procrastinating and just make this video. I finally quit ignoring it and just faced the truth. I'm going to die on the eleventh. I'm going to die on my birthday. My twenty-first. And I can't do anything to stop it. [laughs] Just look at me. I'm a fucking mess. I'm still a fucking mess. A sad, crazy mess. And you know what, like, the best part of all of this is? All the people who do know me either hate me or want out of their lives. [laughs] Those are the ones who are still alive. Sarah would have still been alive had I not visited her. But... I have a confession... to make. I... I think I was the one who killed Kat.
[distortion, Observer-style text reading "CORRECT" covers the screen]
I keep having this dream over and over. That I'm being pulled out of that bed on Thanksgiving. But this time, this time I remembered everything. I was being controlled somehow, and, I --- I killed her. [sobs] I don't know how they made me do it, but, they, they made me do it. In cold blood. [laughs] Like it was nothing. Like I'm some kind of goddamn puppet. That blood on my shirt? In the video? That was Kat's. She must have put up some fight. But yeah. I lied about the goggles. I was fucking afraid, man. What would you do? Tell the truth? I've been purposefully isolating myself, like a fucking recluse, just so I don't become [sic] in contact with people. I'm a walking curse. [sobs] Do you know how hard it is for me to keep such little contact with my parents? My own parents? I love them to death. But that's why I'm so afraid. I'm so afraid that I'm going to get them involved with my stupid ass shit. I barely speak to them anymore. That kills me inside. It really does. So I've been thinking. Maybe it's better that I'm gone. Maybe... maybe I should just give up altogether. I won't be able to hurt anyone else. So what if I don't have the answers I want, at least-at least everyone's gonna be safe. Safe from me and my, my fucking problems. They've been several steps ahead no matter what I do, every single time. And I already know what you're thinking. "Oh no, Noah, oh there's still unsolved mysteries, you know, ah, oh, I know you've been through a lot, oh, I know how it feels." No, no you fucking don't know how it feels. You don't fucking know how it feels to know that you killed someone and you couldn't do anything to stop it. You never will know how it feels. You think you can help me? I'd like to see you try. I can't even help myself. You think this is all a game? This is my life. My fucking life. This is my punishment. It's what I deserve. And even if I did have the courage to stand up and... fight this shit any longer, what good would it do? what good would it do? I'm completely out of options. I can't go to the boardwalk without the journal, and I can't get the journal from Karl because he's a stubborn prick. But... if this is my final goodbye, I'd like to say a few things. I'd like to say a few things to the people I love. Consider this video a catharsis for years of pent up frustration. Mom, dad, I love you both so much. And I'm really, really sorry for lying to you, not telling you the truth about things. Sarah, John, Kat, and all the others affected by me dead and otherwise: I'm sorry. I'm really, deeply and truly sorry for getting you all tangled up in my problems and, just, my bad luck. And Milo, buddy: I'm sorry, for not being there for you back in the day, when you needed it most. No doubt your mom was a crazy bitch, and you must have needed someone to confide in, I know it. Hell, she might have been the one that killed you after all. I never did get to find her. I never did get to avenge you. I'm so sorry. So sorry for not trying harder. And to my followers: thank you for being there, trying to help me out with all this, even though I didn't win in the end. But whatever happens to me, I'm going to have it recorded. I'm going to have a Stickam livestream on the eleventh at 10 PM, Florida time, so that, uh, the world can see me get killed or taken or whatever at 11:11 PM. So, whatever happens, I'll make sure to it that you see it. I, I-I can say, though, that I'm actually not afraid of death anymore. As, as much as I want a second chance at all this, what good would it do, really? What fucking good would it do? But, I do know something for a change. For a fact. I know when I'll die. And is it weird to say that knowing is oddly comforting? I've been uncertain about everything since I started uploading videos to this god-forsaken account. And knowing something for a change... really feels good. Refreshing. Maybe I'll see Milo again. Maybe then I can make up for all that time that we didn't spend together. All those missed opportunities. All those tree houses we could have built, video games we could have played together. All those good memories we could have made. I don't care if we barely saw each other, he was the closest person I could have called a brother, in the world. I'm an only child and I've always wanted a brother of my own. To grow up next to, just, to have during all those tough times in high school. I wish we could have been there for each other more. And since he was my only friend for the longest time until we stopped talking, I considered him a real brother... to me. But he wasn't just a brother. He was my best friend. He's all I really had. And to have him die like that - just really hurt me. Like, like a part of me died. A part that I had taken for granted. I, I loved that guy. More than any other friend that I'd ever had. And just, letting him disappear like that, without vengeance, it was a disgrace to me. You all have someone like that. What would you do? What would you do for them? I don't know what they're going to do to me if they don't kill me, but... I've got a hunch. They're going to force me into their, their circle. The "Collective". The Observer's gonna take me and turn me into one of those... fuckers.
Observer... The Observer does look happy, though. He always looks happy. They all do. All I want is happiness. Maybe I'll be able to smile again and mean it. I know it's weird to say, but... I'm actually relieved that it's all going to be over. At least I tried, right? I did my best. You know what a great man once said? "God made death so we'd know when to stop." Either fight the unfightable and be sad and scared and anxious and miserable for the rest of my days until I die, or just accept the inevitable and be happy and content about it. Might as well accept the inevitable. Makes sense to me. It'll make my death easier on my conscience. See you soon, Milo.
[a few moments of black screen and silence, followed by an ending "jump" featuring a close-up of an eye with a clock face imposed onto the iris, and the words "TIME'S UP" in the corner]