NES Godzilla Creepypasta/Epilogue

I am Zachary, and at the time I write this, it has been three weeks since the fateful night when I played the NES Godzilla game.
Going back to that night, to immediately after I turned off the NES. Once I was able to start walking around again, the first thing I did was unplug the NES, take out the cartridge, and put them in separate sock drawers.
I looked over at the computer. All the screenshots you've seen in the story were saved. I backed up all the images on a flash drive before I turned the computer off, just in case. After that, I hit the bed and instantly passed out. It was not a restful sleep, but one of complete exhaustion. It felt like no time has passed before I awoke again.
And what a day that was. The first thought I recall coming to mind was "...What the hell happened last night?" I thought about it for a short while, until it occurred to me to contact the person I got the game from to begin with – Billy. So I called him up, and told him to just come over to my apartment, which he did.
And I showed him the screenshots, and gave him a very basic summary of what had happened. At first he thought I was pulling a joke on him, but he soon realized that was not the case. Once it hit him that this was real, he was speechless.
He made it clear that he had absolutely not tampered with the game, and had no idea about any of this.
So then the obvious question was asked to Billy; "Where did YOU get it from?" I got the simple answer of "Another friend of mine that I trade games with." He assured me that this was a trustworthy person, and he had never had any issues with games he got from him before. So then Billy called him. But when we told this guy the story, he was as shocked and surprised as anyone, except he abruptly hung up on us. This clearly was going nowhere.
Before Billy left that day, he asked me if I wanted him to take the cartridge and dispose of it. I sharply declined. He asked how I could possibly still want to keep the thing. I told him that I needed time to think it over, and that was that.
Billy and I haven't talked much since. Even though I've told him this isn't the case, I get the impression that Billy thinks what happened with the game is his fault.
After he left that day, I did a lot of thinking.
It was very hard for me to do anything else, really. I couldn't stop thinking about the game, there were so many questions left unanswered. What WAS Red? Was Melissa really in the game? How did she get there? Why did all this happen with THIS game?
But the one question that kept me for many nights was:
"Red said he had 'known me for a long time'. How?"
Ever since then, I can't shake this feeling of being watched.
The game made me ask myself questions about death and reality in ways that I never wanted to think about. I'm not too sure of anything anymore. Constantly thinking about it soon began to have a negative impact on my life. I just didn't care about anything else at this point. By comparison, all the other day-to-day activities seemed utterly pointless.
I eventually decided that I had to choose between one of two things: Try to play the game again, or destroy it. I tried several times to convince myself to try the former, but I never got farther than plugging the NES back up. Just touching the cartridge made me remember all the pain I felt during the fight with Red.
I wondered if perhaps playing the game again myself might cause something terrible to happen. I didn't know anything about how this "game" worked, and it was too risky. I wasn't sure I could stand another round of the game anyway.
So then it was time for the other option. Wanting to get some fresh air, I took the game with me and drove to the lake, planning to throw it in. I got up to the lake with the cartridge in my hands, and I look down on it and...I thought of Melissa. If what I had experienced in the game was indeed genuine, doing what I did may have been the only way to save her from endless torture. In a way, this warped game might have saved her soul.
Damn it. Once that thought came into my head, I knew then I wouldn't be able to destroy it. So I just sat down at a bench, gazing at the lake for about an hour. Ultimately, I decided on a third option: selling the game on EBay.
It may be selfish, but I promise you that it has nothing to do with money. I don't care how much or little I get paid for this game, believe me. It's selfish because I don't want the responsibility of owning this cartridge anymore. I cannot dwell on this forever, and the only way I can deal with this, is by putting the game out of my life.
So this brings me to the main reasons I created a summary of these events; first is to record the details while I can remember them, and second is that whoever bids on this game knows what they're getting into. I can't guarantee the safety of anyone else who plays the game, or that anything will happen at all. But to the new owner of the gamer, remember this; Be careful, and if you feel as if the game is literally messing with your mind, SHUT THE DAMN THING OFF.
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