They're keeping me here.

They've locked me up.

They don't understand..

How could they?

Ginger thought it was bullshit, and she was living it.. She didn't understand until it was too late..

Everytime I try to explain, they assume something entirely different.

Everytime I look in the mirror I see someone else.

I'm scared. They assure me it's withdrawal.

I told them people would die. Way t'go Bee.

I can't stop it. My own body's working against me..

I can't tell the time, but I know it must be after 5. The sun's going down. All I can do is lay here, in this cell, on this bed. Feel the subtle changes spread throughout my body, Ginger's voice whispering softly in my ear. She liked it. It's easy for her to help me along.

I roll over on my side, facing the door. For a moment, I imagine my grisly end, and exactly the picture I'm fighting against. My pride is keeping me from giving in to this. I won'tcan't become that thing. It's not me..like it wasn't her. We were normal once.

I'm starting to drift off, things are starting to get quieter..

"Brigitte. Brigitte, wake up." A soft tug on my shoulders. Hands, too big to be Ghost's, and a voice too masculine to be Alice's. But too gentle to be Tyler's.

I sit up with a start, meeting the eyes of a face I haven't seen since..

"Sam," I choked.

He smiled slowly at me. This wasn't right. My eyes grew wide: his grew soft.

"Sam," I repeated. I inched back slowly, my back pressed against the wall and the bed post. "You're dead." He stayed still, but somehow our distance didn't change. And he chuckled.

Scratching the side of his head, lopside grin pasted to his features: "Well, yknow, funny thing about that."

I waited. That obviously was the end of that sentence.

"What're you doing here Brigitte?" It wasn't a question as much as an interrogation. A tender one.

I shook my head slowly, sadly. "I'm changing."

He nodded. "I know. They've got you in a real fix."

"Help me." I felt my face shake a bit. "Help me get out of here."

"Not a whole lot I can do."

I reached forward, chose his chest for this test. Before I could make contact he took my hand.

"I'm sorry."

This couldn't be a dream. Dreams are scattered memories the brain collects. The things he's saying..the way he feels..

He's stroking my knuckle with his thumb. His eyes haven't left me. "I'm sorry about Ginger."

I'd forgotten she killed him. As if reading my thoughts, he added, "You and I both know that wasn't her."

"How do I know this is you?" This sounded stupid even as it left my mouth.

Another smile. "It could explain the ghost circumcised dick."

It wasn't funny then, it's not funny now. I haven't thought about him for years. I've forgotten all of this.

"You never forgot about me. Loss is painful, Brigitte, but you can't forget a guy like me."

Footsteps. Tyler's here.

Sam's not.

"No. I can't."

Authors note: I still not sure about whether this is finished. You can probably expect an improved version.I think I might even continue...