Not... really... [He admits it reluctantly, that his memory is far from perfect right now.] Something about... shit.

[He pinches his eyes closed for concentration.] Something about a ball, right? And... fog. [Screams and sobs in the night. Hallucinations] A feather snatcher. [Paranoia. Fear. And suddenly he stiffens at the sudden chill on his skin.

Watching himself stab everyone he cared for]

... I remember some of it now.