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She wakes up, and there's blood on her hands. And there isn't. But she isn't in her room,
or, is she? No, this is definitely not his room. He lived in a small flat, somewhere
in the ghetto? But she doesn't live in the ghetto. She lives in a nice, big house
in the rich neighbourhood, with her mother, father and a small sister, and a
golden retriever. But he never had any sisters. And his parents are dead. There's
a knock on the white painted wooden door, and he feels his head raise. He's never
had hair this long; or this blonde. His hair was always that one particular shade
of tree bark, and somewhere below his jaw, so he could cut it properly with a knife.
A woman enters, with a worn out, parental smile, same blonde hair, and a plate
with breakfast. His mouth is ash, his stomach growling. But no. It's not his. It's
hers. He plays the role he thinks he has to play. "Good morning, mother", he says,
and a voice inside his brain shouts. It's a high-pitched voice of a fifteen-year old
girl, and it's weird to be on the other side of this. Finally, the girl wins, and he's
back in the space in between existing and not. "Hey, today's Saturday, right?"
she asks, with the voice he'd been using, just with a bit more shake. Her mother
nods with a smile, and leaves her plate on the bottom of the bed. When she leaves,
he takes over, and stares at the female hands in front of him. Her hands. His hands.
There is no blood on them. There once was. His blood. His blood, and he's dead.



"Who are you?" she asks him. The conversation is silent, happening in her head
as she stares in the distance. She is in a train, her suitcase under her seat. She
didn't want to leave; it was his voice in her head, which told her to run. "I'm...
I just am. I don't know." "What's your name?" she tries again. She hears a laugh,
just a breathy noise inside her head. "What's yours?" The question confuses her.
And she is left answerless. "I'm sorry, that's... not nice of me. I guess... I'm just
not nice. You don't remember your name anymore. You've become our medium."
"Our?" "There are more of us. The technical definition of who we are would be
ghosts, but we have no shape. Do you know how it feels to be shapeless?" he
trails off, for a second, and she stares through the train window. "I'm Alec. I am
a tortured, sad French-Canadian drug dealer, and I was killed by a stray shrapnel
from a local bomb." "But... If you're dead, how are you... in my head?" "I don't
know. I just know I exist, but only in somebody's head. Now that you've accepted
me and became a host, more and more people will join us." She shifts a bit. The
future ahead of her doesn't look bright. "What will happen to me?" Her head hurts
with Alec only, and she doesn't think she'll be able to hold onto anybody else besides
him. There is a sigh, and she isn't sure if it's his or hers. "You'll go insane. Slowly.
And then, you'll join us. I'll help you when you transfer." She accepts the future.



[before;;]
"hey, amour." "you call me that and i break all of your fingers." "i've two hands."
alec glares at vic, who takes off his coat and drops onto the bare mattress next to him.
"the shipment is a no-go. misty forgot to write us down as receivers." "again? that's,
like, three times this year?" alec runs his hand through his hair and lies back, his head
touching vic's, but from the other side. "i'm tired." "yeah." "have we got enough to
cover us for the next week? i don't know how many strings can i pull anymore." vic
closes his eyes. "no wonder you're so tired, amour, you do nothing but work. should
relax once in a while." alec gets up abruptly, and the moment is gone. he jumps at
vic and pins him to the mattress, getting out squeals from him. "get off, you worthless
of crack cocaine shit!" "don't act like you don't know exactly what we're dealing." vic
snorts and tries to wriggle his way out of alec's grasp, but whilst he was shorter, alec
was also stronger and knew some basic martial arts. vic never asked where he learnt.
"i know, but 'that thing we're dealing' doesn't have a name yet." "name it." "don't have
the privilege." vic turns his head and rolls his eyes. "make yourself have the privilege."
alec smirks, and does something that he had been meaning to do, something which vic
had been suggesting, but alec had always denied him, because it wasn't the right time,
he didn't want to ruin their friendship, ultimately, he didn't allow himself to develop
feelings. but things changed, things change, things will change. alec tugs at vic's hair
and presses a rough, confused kiss against his lips. their positions reverse; vic manages
to shake alec off of him and rises on top, returning the kiss just as they hear it. they
feel it. "alec!" but he had been too close to a window, too close to the bomb. he had
guarded vic unintentionally with his body, and was staring at the blood leaving his stomach,
life leaving his body. "vic", he manages to utter, and goes to ether seeing only blood.



"Hey there, doll", the man who owned the small hotel greeted her, but she barely heard
him. "Room for one, please." She was weak, and her voice is small, so the man didn't
look so sure he wanted to give her the keys. "Aren't you a little young to be wandering
around the city this late?" She pulled out a two twenties and slammed them against the
reception table. "Room 214", he said and gave her the keys. She walked to it and locked
the door. "What's going on?" "This room is disgusting, can we go somewhere else?" "I
think I knew the man who owns this place... But I think he had a beard." "Noir, are you
okay?" One voice is louder and stronger than others. Alec's voice. She tries to zone out
all others, but as she's growing weaker, it becomes harder. "I'm not okay. I'm... can,
can everybody be quiet for a second?" Her mind goes quiet for the first time as she can
remember. People in her head, ghosts, spirits, they are alarmed by her tone. "It's time,
darling. You have to let go." "I-I don't want to. I don't want to die. What will happen to
all you guys once I'm gone?" "We'll flutter away, to new mediums. But I'm staying with
you, Noir. I'll make sure we find someone new to be with." Her feet became heavy,
and she lay down on the floor. She wasn't sure how to do this; she had never died before.
She listened to Alec's soothing voice in her head, and let go. Her body remains on the floor,
but she felt like she's rising, and floating away. Someone's hands were holding her from
floating too high, but they're invisible. She's invisible, shapeless. "Don't panic, I'm here",
Alec said. "You can't see me, but I'm here, and you're here." "I'm... like you?" "You
always have been. Let's find somebody to be in." He takes her invisible hand and they're gone.



It's like walking around with a stone for a heart
People swimming in honey as your life falls apart
It's cold and it's dark
And there's no way out
I felt like you once
I wish I could shout