[center][h3]Nick Waller[/h3]
[hr]
[/center]

Okay, so mirror dimension wasn't entirely correct, but he was close enough with the basic premise. This world was a reflection of the collective unconscious of humanity. "That explains why this place is a prison..." Nick mumbled. You came here, did your time, changed and grew, and were sent out into the world. 

Saddled with debt, trauma, hopefully powerful or lucrative connections, and a better understanding of what people were really like when they weren't held back by parents or the shackles of youth. Not a one-to-one analogy, of course, but enough that it was a fair enough fit. 

And the only reason they were here was because they snapped. Nick almost barked out a laugh at that. The straw that had broken the camel's back was tripping, getting some crap on one of his jackets, an argument with some guy he barely knew, and thinking about his ex. 

That was it. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Hell, he hadn't even had to ignore a call from his dad this entire [i]week[/i], let alone today, and that was usually more stressful than half this day had been. [i]Pathetic[/i], the treacherous part of his mind thought. 

Outwardly, he tried to hide his frustrations with himself, but still let out a wince at the knowledge that coming here had, in fact, been because they'd finally snapped. 

At least he didn't get brutally murdered by his own demons and replaced, becoming nothing more than a flesh sack for the ugliest parts of himself that he hated. He'd need to find a way to more constructively channel his anger than snide comebacks and punching walls. 

Spindle's comments about a war, though, made Nick bristle a little. It had felt good to finally fight back, to [i]do[/i] something besides bitch and moan and talk to a therapist for an hour every few days, but could he really dedicate his time to this? He still had to prepare for his gap year and his LSATs in June. This was already an extremely busy and important time in his life, and if he wanted to follow his dreams, he couldn't waste time gallivanting around and fighting flesh-wearing soul demons...could he?

No. No, he couldn't. He had to prioritize, and his career had to take priority. He needed to prove to himself (and to his parents, his thoughts interrupted) that he could do this. That he wasn't a waste of time and space. He could do good, make something of himself, the runt of the litter. He could be better than a debt-ridden, washed-up financier and a failed trophy wife. 

Nick nodded along with the others in expressing his interest in getting out of here. 

He didn't say anything, though. He couldn't bring himself to admit, with words, that he couldn't-that he [i]wouldn't[/i]-help.