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Around
me
the
men
of
Project
Mayhem
are
screaming
.
Then
Mrs.
Patrick
Madden
is
screaming
.
And
in
the
basement
of
the
Armory
Bar
,
Tyler
Durden
slips
to
the
floor
in
a
warm
jumble
.
Tyler
Durden
the
great
,
who
was
perfect
for
one
moment
,
and
who
said
that
a
moment
is
the
most
you
could
ever
expect
from
perfection
.
And
the
fight
goes
on
and
on
because
I
want
to
be
dead
.
Because
only
in
death
do
we
have
names
.
Only
in
death
are
we
no
longer
part
of
Project
Mayhem
.
Tyler
's
standing
there
,
perfectly
handsome
and
an
angel
in
his
everything-blond
way
.
My
will
to
live
amazes
me
.
Me
,
I
'm
a
bloody
tissue
sample
dried
on
a
bare
mattress
in
my
room
at
the
Paper
Street
Soap
Company
.
Everything
in
my
room
is
gone
.
My
mirror
with
a
picture
of
my
foot
from
when
I
had
cancer
for
ten
minutes
.
Worse
than
cancer
.
The
mirror
is
gone
.
The
closet
door
is
open
and
my
six
white
shirts
,
black
pants
,
underwear
,
socks
,
and
shoes
are
gone
.
Tyler
says
,
"
Get
up
.
"
Under
and
behind
and
inside
everything
I
took
for
granted
,
something
horrible
has
been
growing
.
Everything
has
fallen
apart
.
