She could still see him, still hear his voice. He stood beside her, whispering the secrets of the universe into her ear.
But he wasn't supposed to. They'd put the chip in her brain. It shocked her central nervous system whenever she saw him or heard his voice. They said after a few times, he'd go away completely. He was just a hallucination. The chip was supposed to make him go away.
But it hadn't. And she'd been shocked so many times she'd lost the use of her legs. She was mostly blind in her left eye, and her right arm spasmed violently at least twice a day. But he was still there, still talking to her, still flooding her mind with radiance and more knowledge than she could handle. She didn't want to know how the universe was really created, or the true origins of humanity. She just wanted him to go away. But he wouldn't. He wouldn't leave her alone.
When they found her, days later, she'd managed to carve the chip out of the back of her skull, along with a section of brain tissue. She'd cut her eyes out (they still sat on the table next to her) and had driven knitting needles into her ears. On the wall, she'd managed to write one last message before she finally died.
"He's Still Here".