Behold my unfurling. Hark, that tickle deep in the back of your throat. Is that an ache in your calf? The catch in your breath is my trumpet. That phlegmatic drumming in your chest’s hollow. I am coming. Deny me at your peril. Ease into my warm molasses of fatigue. Accept my embrace in a smothering of congestion. Remember we are boon companions. Shards of me are sprinkled in your DNA. I’ve evolved around your defenses. Woven into each other’s origin stories, I am close. You can buy your patent medicines. Run along to work, to the market, to a random parking lot to buy antique Ball jars from a stranger. Ignore the headache ever-tightening. Your belly brain trembles knowing the truth. I’m snaking towards you through cups of tea with honey and lemons, coursing upstream through grandma’s chicken noodle soup. You’ve met my weak sister of summer. Tinges of my flashy cousin Corona haunt you and strengthen me. Geshundheit. Pass the Kleenex. Behold the winter cold!

His breath came out foggy despite the fact that he couldn’t feel any temperature. He walked across the endless, black sea of dreams and thoughts. Everywhere he looked, through the water was a new memory. Finally he found what he was looking for, a tangible fragment. Sitting on a pink, princess, plastic chair sat a little girl. She wore a stained, puffy, blue dress, and a crown missing most of the gems. “Here you are Mister Fluffigins, your hot chocolate.” She poured the oddly red water from her little flowery teapot into a cup. The rhino teddy bear it was for had a permanent smile stitched into it’s face. She suddenly noticed him. “Hello! Would you like to “sAvE!” play with me?” A happy smile danced upon her lips. “Of course.” One of the other stuffed playthings, a gray otter, dissolved into ashes. He wiped the ashes off the seat before sitting. The chair was strangely large and he had to spread his wings a bit. “Hot cocoa?” “That would be delightful.” She poured more of that strangely colored liquid. “Say? Would you know where I can Alora?” “But I am Alora?” “Yes, but not my Alora, I’m afraid I lost her.” “Mom says if you lose it, you don’t deserve it.” “Fair point, I…” He stared into the cup. There was something in the water. He swirled a bit trying to understand it. It finally dawned on him. It was a few small pieces of skin. He had to stifle down his breakfast. “Don’t you want to try it?” He looked up, her voice was strange. Blood was splattered across her face and her eyes were cold. Her present was bleeding into her past. He brought the cup up to his lips and took a slight sip. He couldn’t taste it as expected. No magic could make any dream quite that realistic. “So about Alora, do you know where she is?” “Maybe.” “Can you show me?” She hoped up from her chair and grabbed hold of Mister Fluffigins. Walking around the table she grabbed hold of his hand. He got up and she led him further into the darkness. The images in the water became more and more recent. Someone forcing a knife into her hands, a little boy surrounded by his family’s corpses. Her punishment for failing her mission to kill him. When he helped escape that despicable place. She’d kill him if she knew what he seeing, he- Her younger memory squeezed his hand tighter. He longed to hold her tightly and go back, to protect her from all this. But it wouldn’t help.

 The closer to the present, the faster he could wake her up. They finally reached the last thing she remembered. His face yelling for her to stay awake after she had been cursed. 
 “Is that really how I look?” He turned to look at the little girl. The point of the walking wasn’t for him to find her, it was for her to remember. He knelt down next to her. She was trembling, not wanting to remember. 
 “I’m sorry, but I need you.” He placed his hand against her head and pulled her forehead to his. Once the spell was cast he pulled away. Mister Fluffigins fell with a soft thud. She stared in silence. Her breath now came out clouded and she was shivering. He wrapped his coat around her and picked her up. Spreading his four, giant, black wings, he made sure she was secure before pushing off the ground. He soared as fast as he could which only made her colder. Her breath was slowing. She was leaving him. He flew into the darkest part. Suddenly he emerged from the black nightmare. He crashed, harshly into a nightstand which broke instantly, then into the wall that cracked loudly. He could hear a loud yelp come from Penelope who had been sitting in a chair across the room. He rushed to limp shape on the bed. He gently lowered her spirit back to her body.

His own body lay in the next room over. “Novae? Is that you?” Penelope looked around the room without possibility of seeing him. He ran back to his body. He awoke, warm once more. Tripping, not used to real legs, he made his way to the other room. She was awake, talking to Penelope. Almost no trace showed on her face. He stumbled to her and wrapped his arms and wings wrapped tightly around her.

She blinked again. She rubbed her eyes. It made no sense - the reflection in the mirror was not her own. She splashed more water on her face, but it was still the same image she saw in the mirror. Miranda’s gave way staring back at her. Sophie gasped. What was going on … was she dreaming? Shee looked around the room and realized she want at home but this was Miranda’s bathroom. She looked down at her body and it was Miranda’s body. Miranda was tall, thin and beautiful… all the things that Sophie secretly coveted and wanted to be.

It was all so unreal. Sophie felt her face , well Miranda’s face, and her hands touched her hair, her cheeks, her neck.

Sophie stood back from the mirror. It was only when she heard Miranda’s mother calling from the kitchen did she snap out of her trance. She was calling Miranda to get ready for school.

Sophie arrived downstairs after quickly picking out something from Miranda’s wardrobe. How could she explain this to Miranda’s mother… she just woke up like this. Like Miranda, her friend but someone she was so jealous of since 2nd grade. Miranda, whose life seemed just so perfect, with a loving family and a handsome boyfriend and popular with everyone at school. Sophie was out of her depth.

Miranda’s mother looked her up and down as soon as she walked into the kitchen. Sophie grabbed a slice of toast and started munching on it. ‘You are wearing that today?’ ‘Interesting choice’ but the words were sharp. Sophie winced ever so slightly and went for some more toast. ‘You shouldn’t be eating so many carbs Miranda.’ ‘You will going to your fathers today after school’ Sophie was confused. Miranda’s parents had a perfect marriage, always giving each other kisses and hugging when they thought no one was looking.

Just then, Finlay came through the door- Miranda’s older brother. He nodded at Sophie as his mother grabbed him for a hug. ‘ Finlay , you will be late. I will make you more breakfast, your sister has really outdid herself this morning and has eaten all yours. I keep telling her that she will never keep that boyfriend of hers if she gets any fatter’

Sophie could feel the toast starting to churn in her stomach. She picked up her bag and murmured goodbye and left. Finlay came rushing behind her as she left through the front door. ‘Hey it’s okay it’s just mom’ ‘ where is … dad?’ Sophie asks. Finlay gave her a quizzical look, ‘ eh it’s Wednesday where do you think he is Miranda?’ ‘He doesn’t have surgery today’ Sophie was really confused.

I woke up in a hospital bed with odd machines surrounding me. I gazed around in a sort of daze, for I had never been in a hospital. A nurse walked in at that moment and exclaimed, “Oh! You’re awake, Walter?” I stared at her dumbly. My name wasn’t Walter, it was John. So why would she call me that? It was only then that my medicated, half asleep brain started to put the pieces together; I woke up in a hospital just like my best friend Walter Bailey would have since he is paralyzed from the waist down and has cancer.I had his dark skin and muscled arms as well, I noted. I swallowed hard as I wondered, if I’m Walter, then what happened to him? “Mr.Bailey? Are you alright? Perhaps it’s time you had some sleep,” the nurse said, looking concerned. Before I could do or say anything, she slipped a pill down my throat and I knew no more.

I awoke once more, only this time I was in my own bed. Without a second thought, I got dressed and drove to the hospital. Entering Walter’s room, I noticed immediately that he was grinning widely. I had, of course, several questions but to sum it up, Walter switched us so that he could see what it was like to be able to walk and move around. “And I must say, you are extremely clumsy,” he said with a snicker.

The End

“How can you be so still? It’s like you’re barely breathing.”

“What do you mean still? I’m right here!” I wave my hands in front of her face but Janieva doesn’t even blink. Her hand is over her mouth and she stares — stricken.

“I’m so sorry Toni. It all went too far.” Tears trail down her face as she stares at the mummified lump on the bed, the body wrapped in gauze, tubes leading in and out.

I stop waving and stand closer to her. “What went too far?”

The patient board is visible on the wall near her feet, T. Mazula written under patient name, but that couldn’t be right — because I’m here and I’m fine. My acid washed jeans and white t-shirt are pristine, coiled curls in a poof. No way I’m that lump on the bed.

Steady mechanical beeps echo in the room, proof of life with a constant whooshing sound, like the room is breathing.

I scream, shout, and wave in front of her, but Janieva doesn’t react. I grab at her but it’s like my fingers won’t catch hold, sliding just off her.

“Can you keep it down? Some of us like to haunt in peace!” I stop to see an older guy, head full of black hair, deep blue eyes narrowed in annoyance. He was like if James Dean had a taller, darker, more annoying older brother.

“What do you mean haunt? I’m right here.”

“Oh my God, you’re new.” He wipes a hand across his face. “Look you’ll figure it out soon enough, but keep it down.”

“But I can’t be dead. I’m here. Even if that’s my . . . body, it’s still breathing,” I stutter. To be dead, you have to be DEAD dead — right?

He rolls his eyes and strolls in, black leather jacket slouching on his shoulders.

Janieva doesn’t react, still staring, dabbing a tissue at her eyes. He checks the machine. “Brain dead.” He jerks his thumb at the device. “That machines the only thing keeping your body going. Like the lights are on but no one’s home. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here and wouldn’t be talking to me.”

I step back in horror. “This can’t be right.”

“Look, it is what it is.” His eyes soften and some of that naggy tone leaves his voice. “It’s all jarring at first, but you get used to it, he says quietly.

“I’m not getting used to anything,” I say, head spinning, and do the only thing I can think of. There are only two bodies in the room and I’m not choosing mine.

I take a flying leap at Janieva. This time I don’t slip off, I slip in. Everything is ten times louder and I can taste her gum in my mouth, her boots pinching my feet.

Thoughts race through my brain, some hers, some mine. It’s a blur of colors as I see double and feel her spirit pressing against mine, our essences warring with each other.

A tough jerk comes from my spine and it’s like I’m turned loose, sliding out of her as weak as a newborn baby, gasping as I huddle on the floor.

“Rule number 1: Possession’s the fastest way to flame out. Don’t do it,” he says, arms crossed.

My chest heaves. “Possession?”

Black haired Jimmy Dean nods, his inky curls falling into his eyes. He’s breathing hard, but I don’t know if that works since we both don’t have lungs. “You can’t just jump into bodies. There are rules.” He leans down and grabs my forearm, pulling me to standing. Janie as also gripping the edge of the bed, eyes darting around the room as she drags in deep breaths.

“Well, how am I going to learn these rules? My body’s only technically dead,” I wheeze.

The indecision plays in his eyes, as his gaze lingers on the hall and his earlier words wrap through my brain. Who was he haunting and what was I keep him from? His mouth starts to form no, but I see the tiny spark that flares in his eyes. I can see the second I’ve won.

“Come on kid. I’ve been dead 20 years, I guess I can spare a day.” He shakes his head as if he’s already regretting this.

He strides out of the room through the door, a man with a mission.

“Can’t we walk through walls? Are there other ghosts here?”

His sigh is loud and heavy. “Haunting 101: it’s different than you see in the movies.”

“How different? Seeing Casper and being Casper were two very different things.”

I start to follow him but stop to look at Janieva one last time, eyes red, natural hair starting to frizz and remember the one thing from my jump in her body.

Janieva knows why my body’s laying in that bed and she knows the person who put me there. I leave the room with one clear vow on my mind — once I get the hang of this haunting thing, I’m going to find out why.

Waking up Rowan felt little off. She flung her blanket off and went to get dressed. Her normal routine was shower, getting dressed,tea and work. Today though she got dress in what felt like yesterday day clothes, made has hers , eggs and bacon in which she she some how was engrossed by rioting going on in Northern Ireland over immigration. Walking out She ended up doing some qigong in a back yard she did have that looked very like sand rock zen Buddha monstrous. Rowan frozen side she wasn’t in fact in her body but Corbins. She’d been going through the motions that she’d not realize to look at her body or reflection. As Corbin walked to his motorbike Rowan was excited yet little afraid since she’d never really rode a bike before. He flipped the gears slammed his helmet on and put on the gas. Unlike what she thought when Corbin pulled out of parking lot he rode gently. He took everything in and his breathe was soft and gentle. She found peace and calm when she was allowing the scenery flood past her. She had not even realized he’d parked and had started to her house. A sigh of mixed emotions seemed to be coming from Corbin. “Ahhh Lordy I hope she’s going be feisty today she’s going to need it.” He rumbled in gentle Barton. Knocking on the door of her traction Irish white cabin that had bright green door. “Come in Corbin my tea is almost done” opening the door Rowan found a thin short lady in white knitted top with tight foot ball under shirt under it and dark jeans stuffed in rocky combat boots. Corbin seemed to be feeling little uneasiness and anxious. “ have ye hears about Gavin and Lydia.” Rowan turn to reflect on this question on why this question bothered Corbin more than it did her. “Yes , I hope Lydia playing this game won’t get her in trouble later. Especially since Gavin is not her real goal.” Corbin seemed to relax as if load had lifted. “ always seeing things as they are .”Corbin whispered to himself. “Aye don’t really think Gavin was paying much attention at the Galla last night. I think he was missing certain someone who decided not to come.” Rowan eye bolted up to Corbin and the feeling of warmth,love and Kindred feeling swirled around Rowan. She felt Corbin brother love and acceptance as he waited to see if she’d take his jibe. “ Ahhh you mean Jessica didn’t make it? He most have lost been lost in without his right wing man.” She responded with green eyes that held mischief. Corbin laughed and grinned wide ,” Aye that to… but lass why did you not show? Your grant aunt ain’t going to know what you look like.” He strode to the other side of the table and sat. She shook her head and starred out the window allowing her brown red hair to flow from her ponytail framing her heart shaped face. “ He’s moved on and I can’t take back saving you my dear friend. “ she gently grabbed his hand gave it squeeze and left his favorite cookie in it. Love admiration and concern brewed in his chest. Determination and challenge was forming ,” Not going happen girl. Gavin loves you lass and he’s world faded without you.” There was ghost grin on her face “ it been two Millennia I feel anyone would mend and move on my friend. I’m going to be his friend, nothing more. Plus before you say anything the Gate has been activated and I have face more challenges before I can truly settle here.” Corbin seemed to listen but the fire of determination was not diminished but given a steady glow within. She felt him saying to himself no lass I will not let you lose this round.
Loss how did she lose ? Gavin was still alive and that was enough. She could solve the gate puzzle get her youth disciples out and get them to elder level. That was her problem not this dream, yet she felt Corbin’s need to help her. She felt her brother partner need to help her. She always love Corbin , but she hadn’t realized how much. Loyalty and friendship are rare and she’d know they cared , but she didn’t realized how much. Her view began to fade and felt cold like she was being ripped from the warm fuzzy cabin to cave

Light filters in through the window, glaring slightly in my eye. Adjusting my position, I sigh and lean back in the chair. A plate of cold food lay forgotten on the desk in front of me. I glance around my room before standing to my feet, stretching to relieve my limbs of their ache.

Where is he? He should’ve shown up hours ago. He and I planned to hang out for awhile during the weekend, and already, he’s an hour late. Part of me begins to worry, an unsettling feeling sinking into the pit of my stomach.

Mindlessly, my feet carry me outside, myself only pausing to slip on some boots. The second I open the door, a dizzying sensation numbs my body. For a moment, I almost think I’m going to be sick or pass out. However, neither happen. In an instant, I slump against the railing, gasping for air and blinking harshly.

Again, the world is spinning, thoughts scattered everywhere as I take in a deep breath.

I feel my feet give out from under me, but instead of hitting the cold cement of my porch, I’m met with rough dirt, muddled with pebbles here and there. My eyes snap open, heart pounding in my chest. Through bleary eyes I see my hands clawing at the dirt underneath my body as I scramble to stand.

“Look at you,” a deep voice growls from behind me, causing my hair to stand on end, “fucking pathetic.” The voice spits his words out, shoving me enough to cause me to stumble. A fist roughly pulls me up by the collar as another hand smacks me across the face.

My cheek stings, and my eyes water unhelpfully. “D-Dad-“ my voice speaks before I realize it, sounding foreign, as if it’s not my own.

The man’s expression darkens, face inching closer to mine. “Don’t call me dad. You lost that right years ago.”

At his words, a pang of guilt washes over me. “I’m sorry! Okay? I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I- I didn’t! Please! I-“ I feel hot tears slide down my face. My throat burns at the intensity of which I scream, though part of me questions why I did in the first place. What did I do?

Immediately, I’m slammed to the ground. “Then why the hell did you do it? Huh? It’s all your fault!” As I hear the man reaching for something, I kick his knee as hard as I can, hearing a slight pop. As he howls in pain, I stand, running as fast as possible with only one thought in mind.

I have to get to her.

My legs carry me across streets, the sound of shouting echoing far behind me. My breathes come out in huffs of short air, and just as I think I’m going to collapse, I see it. Her house.

Pushing harder, I pump my arms, watching the figure turn to me in surprise as I grow closer.

“J- Jay-“ My words are nearly a whisper, and suddenly, I realize I’m not myself. In front of me is, well, me.

Looking down at my clothes, my eyes widen.

I’m him.

I look back up, seeing myself freeze. Just the sight of me brings tears to my eyes, an odd feeling arising in my chest. Seeing myself through his eyes brings a sense of happiness briefly. However, that happiness is replaced by fear as guilt builds within my stomach- er, his. I watch as my eyes widen in fear, and my breath hitches as I see myself back away in fear.

A pale expression falls over my face, and I see my hands grip the railing tightly, knuckles turning white. “What did you do?”

Cyrus opened her eyes, vision blurry as it focused. Where was she? She turned around when she heard a little girl’s voice say, “NO! Please! W-what did I do wrong?!” She knew that voice….was she? No- it was impossible! She couldn’t be in Adalia’s mind….could she?

“Normally, I would put people into their best friends minds. Buuuuuut, I think this will teach you a big lesson your majesty,” a while figure said with a bow.

“What? What the hell…” Cyrus asked. The figure chuckled.

“Have fun. You’ve put this poor girl through hell,”

And then it was gone. Adalia’s memories flooded in, one after the other. Cyrus seamed to star in almost all of them. She saw herself slashing the girl across the face, and chasing her out of the town. And she saw a side of her that she had never seen before. She was crying…..Adalia was crying…..she tripped over a root while blood filled her vision, her eyelids growing heavy. Cyrus found her own eyes watering.

“I’m a monster….” She said softly.

In the blur, she saw a man rushing to Adalia’s side. He whispered, “shhhhhh. Your alright. Good lord it’s a child! Who would do such a thing to an eight year old?! Who am I kidding? Is without a doubt Queen Cyrus,” while still talking, he picked Adalia up and then there was darkness. The memories continued on until she reached the end.

“Wow-“ Cyrus whispered, staring down at her shaking hands.

“Now, of corse, there is no way to say I’m sorry to her since….well….she killed you….but, do you agree that she deserves the throne? I’m sure your daughter, Pandora, will help her,” she figure said. Cyrus nodded.

As Cyrus walked down the endless stairs down to hell, she couldn’t stop thinking of Adalia. Her face, her one’s lovely, now scarred. The amount of anxiety Cyrus has given her….and killing the poor things mother….though Cyrus knew she had broken her into a million pieces, she was like the sun of the over world; A Phoenix. And Cyrus was the shadows; A demon.

(If there are any stupid mistakes, please forgive me. It’s 4 am)

Teresa had had a lot of drink when she confronted me about my “rotten personality”. I will give her the fact of her drunkenness and that at least she had the tiniest bit of perspective not to yell at me in the hotel bar. She waited until we were in the room we were sharing for what was supposed to be our girl’s weekend before she lit into me.

It was certainly an eye opener. I thought we had had a good relationship for all the years we had been good friends; that was my take. It wasn’t hers, and she let me know that I was selfish and self serving and she was sick of how I ran over her socially and in our job in the same company. I was flabbergasted and deeply hurt, but she gave me a lot to think about.

I crawled into bed that night with Teresa snoring away in the other queen bed but there was no snoring for me. I was wide awake thinking through everything she had said and trying to understand her perspective. There were quiet tears, but there was also a lot of soul searching before I finally fell asleep, exhausted.

At breakfast the next morning Teresa was acting as if none of that rant had happened, and maybe she had no memory of it, but I was not ready to have the discussion we needed to have if we were to go forward in this friendship. That would wait but it would happen. How could it not?

(Really depressing story, just a heads up.)

“You shit!” Connor yelled from his beanbag chair.

I couldn’t help but laugh as my car veered around his and I won the race. It was always the running joke when Connor and I played Mario Kart. I always won races out of nowhere when Connor was ahead.

He always wanted to prove it wrong though, insisting we play one more and pushing video game conversations into a round of Mario Kart. He couldn’t help it, he was a competitive person. It was something I loved about Connor yet it could get obnoxious at points.

“Hey, hey hey…” I swooned. “Guess who won this time, and the last and the last…”

I was cut off abruptly. There was a playful smile on my face, yet I noticed there was no such expression on Connor’s.

“You fucker!” He yelled. “You win all the goddamn time, you cheat!”

Even for Connor, this was unnatural. He usually grinned and shook it off. He usually made fun of himself for it, never me and my unpolished skills and bag of luck.

“Whoa Connor, chill out,” I responded insistently. “You want to play something else?”

I tried to change the subject, but it felt like the cold air in my basement had suddenly become heated. Before I knew what was happening, Connor was rushing up the stairs and I could hear the slamming of the door. There was a small hint of realization on Connor’s face before he got up, but it faded quickly.

Connor usually never talked much about his life outside of school, sport and video games, but I needed to know now more than ever. Something was definitely wrong. I never knew that this information would hit me so hard.

I texted Connor constantly, even though the notifications were silenced. The impression that he would look anyway fueled my urgent actions to get his attention. He was my friend and I wasn’t going to forget that nothing happened.

It was a little past 10 when I came to the conclusion that he wasn’t responding. He hadn’t even looked at any texts since he had left my house at 5:30. I closed my eyes, and drifted to sleep.

Dust. Cigarette smoke. Alcohol. The smells woke my senses up, but it wasn’t me that woke up physically. It was Connor.

I could feel the thump of his heart, the texture of his hands sliding on his bed sheets. His eyes were weary and there was the crust of dried tears under them. I could feel, hear, smell and see everything, yet I couldn’t exercise free will.

The bed creaked as Connor slowly left his bed. I could feel every part of the motion once again, and it freaked me out. There was nothing I could do but experience it though. It was alike someone had turned on bright floodlights in a room and locked the door.

Down the stairs Connor went. His stomach was increasingly knotted and there was no way it would let up. Then I realized why.

There was a sleeping man on the couch, or at least a husk of one. Connor’s father. The couch was stained and misshapen and the putrid smells of smoke and alcohol wafted throughout the room stronger. There were beer bottles littering the floor, and there was a spilling ash tray in the corner of the room. It was awful, and I it showed me the truth of why all these years I had never actually been to Connor’s house. I could hear the constant excuses now, pitched so casually to me.

“Let’s go to the park instead, play some soccer,” he had said a few months ago.

“Come on, you have more video games than I do, you’ll be disappointed,” he always brought that one up.

Now it all made painful sense, and I couldn’t look away.

Connor was the boldest person I knew and it was one of the reasons I respected him as a friend so much. Yet, he acted timidly. His steps barely touched the floor so he didn’t wake his father. There was an intense focus to every movement he made. He wasn’t the lovingly brash person I had come to know, but a scared, young boy. It haunted me.

A sweating hand latched onto the side of the fridge, and slid the door open. The food was cluttered inside, similar to the overflowing sink of smeared kitchenware. There was the stench of rot that filled my senses but Connor didn’t flinch, and slowly reached forward for a jug of milk. I could feel his heart drop as his grip slipped in mid-air. It felt like the whole world was at a stand-still. Everything was in stasis. And then there was the crash.

There was milk everywhere by the time the clatter stopped. Connor’s father groaned, but soon his eyes were lifted from drudgery. I couldn’t take it, I could tell what could happen next. There was also nothing I could do to stop it.

Connor’s silence was devastating to my understanding of him. His heart burned with anger, yet he couldn’t find his voice. He only did so yesterday, like it was some kind of shock reaction. He needed to let something out, but I could now tell it wasn’t enough. His father got up, and his fierce expression was drawn instantly to Connor and the mess. He was taller than I had originally perceived and his frame was brutish and unwelcoming. Connor backed up and made an uneasy stance to defend himself. And then suddenly, I was back in my body.

My eyes were wide open when I was transported back. I was more shocked by what had just happened to Connor than what had happened to me. I instinctively jerked out of bed like I could still see Connor’s father glaring. I could hear my mother calling me for breakfast, but it felt distant. I was sort of in a shock myself and I stared vacantly at the wall.

Connor and I had felt so close, yet now we were two separate islands. Polar opposites that had been drawn into each other in some bizarre circumstance. It felt like I knew nothing about Connor, yet I had labeled him my best friend since elementary school. I was 16 now, and it stung opening your eyes for the first time. Connor was floating away, sinking even, and it felt like there was nothing to do to stop it.