This is a one-shot.
Basically a trip into Sally's mind. A bit of Jack/Sally romance, too.
Warning: Mature themes, scary scenes.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Nightmare Before Christmas. I do play with the characters.

All the Pieces of Me

Hello.Nice to meet you, too.Where do you come from? Me? Well, I live in Halloweentown, am the proud wife of Jack Skellington, and own a dog named Zero. I am five feet, four inches tall, have long auburn hair, and the pupils in my eyes are black. I have no idea how old I am...I have several different ages, I suppose...My hometown…well, I was born in a laboratory. Brought to life by a mad doctor. Oh, yes, my complexion is rather odd…

That is probably because I've been stitched together from countless other bodies.

–My name? Ah, yes. My name. My name is Sally.

Sally had an odd look in her eyes. The house was empty, and from Jack's room — the tower high, high above the busy streets — one could not hear the bustle of the outside world. The room was very much as it had been before she had married Jack, a bit disorderly, but still homey, except for the fact that another dresser had been added to accommodate Sally's very meager belongings, and a few pieces of lingerie were strewn about here and there.

She was encased by silence. Total, absolute silence.

For the moment she was savoring the lack of sound. It was rather an unusual thing for the Queen of the Pumpkin Patch to find her ears not being assailed, unhindered by wailing children that needed to be kissed, or forms that needed to be signed, or decisions that needed to be made—standard orange and black this year? Or should we attempt something more radical?—and as Jack was busy at a meeting with members of the Council, Sally had the house to herself (Zero had followed Jack).

Sally cast her eyes across the room, and was soon eye to eye with that person in the mirror that mimicked her every move. Slowly, her fingers slightly trembling, Sally ran her fingers over her face, tracing the stitches.

She did not want to be alone, she suddenly realized, as a familiar sensation began to overcome her. Long ago, when she had still been living with the doctor, she had often felt this when she was alone in the nighttime, with nobody to keep her company except for the moon.

The memories. They were clinging at her, clutching her arms, dragging her eyes to the back of her head and demanding to be remembered. They screamed and yowled, begging for Sally to give them a moment, to give them attention after being shoved to the back of her mind for so long. They demanded attention.

And slowly, reluctantly, Sally gave them that attention.

The brain was always first to insist on remembering, as it held the strongest memories of all.

The brain, of course, belonged to Sally. But not the stitched-together-Sally. It had once comfortably resided in the head of a real, living, breathing Sally. A Sally that had loved and laughed and stored countless memories in the brain. A Sally that had died prematurely, when pushed off a tall building.

I loved him. I loved him so much. I gave him my heart and my soul and my life…I gave him my love and devotion…I gave him my virginity. I was so ready, so willing, to be the proud mother of that little baby. I was so ready to be by his side forever.

But he was not. He hated me. He hated me so much. He hated my love for him, and most of all, he hated the precious baby within my womb.

And so he took me out to dinner.

It was romantic. I felt sure that I was dreaming, or that I was in heaven. But no, it was real. We were really sitting at a lovely table at an expensive restaurant, looking out at the stars. His hands were gently touching mine. We were alone on that roof. He said he'd reserved the entire roof for us especially, so that we could gaze at the moon that I so loved.

I was not in heaven. But I would be soon.

Dinner ended, and he led me by hand to the center of the roof.

"Dance with me, darling."

I did.

And we danced, and danced.

Closer, and closer, and closer to the edge.

And with an easy push, I fell.

I still remember the fall.

His laughing face growing smaller and smaller, the cold, wet pavement coming closer, and closer.

I fell on my belly.

I could not save my precious baby, already seven months old.

I died.

But my memory will not.

Sally clutched her arms to her side, whimpering as the brain screamed its woes at her. The brain thrust her into the memory, the dancing, the baby. And even though she had no central nervous system, even though she was a rag doll, the brain remembered what it felt like to feel. The brain remembered the pain.

And the brain sent its pain into Sally. One Sally's cries intermingled with another, and soon Sally found herself sobbing.

But the body stuffed with autumn leaves would not relent. There were still many more memories to come.

The heart. It had belonged to Tracy Vesuales.

I never meant to go into that…business. I never meant to sell myself…I…I never meant to become a prostitute.

It wasn't fair. Life wasn't fair. Life was never fair to me.

It wasn't my fault that I didn't have enough money to feed my precious Basil. It wasn't my fault that the only way I could see to keep me and my baby boy alive was to sell the only part of me that society could ever want, accompanied by jeers and cold looks or not.

And so it was that I became a prostitute.

I still remember the disgusting diseases that would cause me pain in horrible ways that would torture me constantly, right up to the day of my death.

Oh, I will never forget what it felt like to die.

It was late. I had not found a client yet, and I was beginning to worry. No client meant no food tomorrow. I was desperate.

I glanced around me again, nervously adjusting my bra to make sure my breasts were pressed upwards in the most alluring way possible. I knew my face was caked with make up. I knew that my eyes were darkened with cheap eyeliner, that my eyelashes were extended ridiculously with mascara.

I knew that if I were another person and saw myself, standing with my teeth chattering while trying to look seductive at the same time, I would have been revolted and have stayed as far away as possible.

But what could I do? It was for Basil. It was for precious, precious Basil. He could not go hungry tomorrow. Each beating of my heart spoke only one word, only one name.

Basil.

Basil.

Basil, Basil, Basil.

And so it was that I took a rash decision, and sauntered over towards the nasty looking biker. He looked like a very, very violent man. He would probably rape me and leave me without money, but I had to take the chance. Perhaps he would give me at least half the money, so I would be able to feed Basil.

Basil, Basil, Basil.

I dropped my tattered purse quite obviously right in front of him, and then dropped down to pick it, making sure to press my breasts enticingly against his body all the way up on my ascent.

"Clumsy, clumsy me," I purred.

The biker did not even respond. He just took me by the arm, and led me to the nearest dark alley.

What happened next was unexpected.

Pain. I remember pain. So, so, so much pain.

He beat me to the ground, picked me up by the hair, and slammed me against the wall. The bricks tore into my back.

Laughing, with a cold glint in his eyes, he ravished me and entered me without any preparation or attempt to make it less painful.

I could feel the blood beginning to flow. The pain, the pain, the pain!

The whole time he was beating me across the head.

"Stay conscious, you whore. Stay conscious."

I obliged. I did not scream. I had to make money. For Basil.

Basil, Basil, Basil.

He violated me in every possible way, and finally, when he was satisfied, threw my shivering, naked body to the ground.

He pissed.

And laughed.

And tossed a penny at my head.

Then, he picked up a knife.

And slowly. Slowly. Slowly. Began to cut me apart.

BasilBasilBasilBasilBasilBasilBasil

My screams were ignored.

BasilBasilBasilBasil…

He laughed. And slit my throat.

Basil…Basil…Basil…

That was the only thing I could think about, even more than my pain. My precious baby boy, what would become of my precious baby boy! It was all my fault, my precious Basil! What would become of him...

Basil...Basil...Basil...

Sally rushed into the bathroom and violently threw up. Intermingled with the partly-digested food were leaves.

Leaves. Not blood.

But the memory, the stench of blood which was overcoming her, was overwhelming.

Sally wretched again.

And the memories no longer came one by one. They mingled together in a huge wave of dark anger, and they collided with Sally's frail, stitched together body.

They tore at her seams, they screamed at her.

WHY DIDN'T YOU LEAVE US IN PEACE?

RETURN US TO OUR RIGHTFUL PLACES.

YOU DO NOT DESERVE TO BE ALIVE.

Sally's eyes were screwed tight as hard as possible, but that did not stop the flow of anger, of pain, of passionate fury. Her teeth ground together, teeth which screamed at her about how they had been pulled out, one by one, as a method of torture.

A deserted park…an airplane…dark hands coming at me…a knife!...a gun!...a train, headlights that came so quickly…I thought he loved me…she was supposed to have been my friend…why…why…WHY…WHY!...PAIN…my blood…oh my god…BASIL!...my baby, my precious baby, didn't get a chance to live…Sally! Sally it's all your fault! You should have left us alone…You disturbed our peace…Sally, Sally, SALLY!

"SALLY!"

Sally's eyes snapped open, her body absolutely trembling. She looked wild and frantic, and her entire body, even without a single nerve, was on edge with pain and fear. She cast her eyes around wildly and they met the empty hollow sockets of Jack's eyes.

I thought…your fault!...you don't…deserve…

His bony, skeletal arms were around her, and somehow they were on the queen sized bed, and she was sitting back against him.

A feverish look was in Sally's eyes, and Jack's face was creased with worry and a bit of fear.

"Sally, Sally, what's wrong!" Jack exclaimed, holding his hyperventilating wife closely against his rib cage. He had come back from the meeting only to hear the most horrible screaming and wailing, and it had taken about five minutes to get Sally calm enough to open her eyes and look at him.

"Jack…Jack…I can't do this…please, give the body parts back…I can't…all my fault…pain…" Sally murmured.

"Sally, please snap out of it! You're not making any…"

"Blood, blood, blood everywhere! They're angry, Jack. They don't want to be disturbed. They want to be back with the rest of their body, they want to rest in peace. Jack, they want to make me remember everything that happened until I go insane and have to let them go back to their bodies, Jack, Jack…"

Jack's hollow eyes sockets suddenly lit up with understanding.

The woman here in his arms was one that had been stitched together from the parts of many, many other people, and brought to life with a shock of lightening and a bit of magic from Halloweentown.

And the body parts were protesting at being so carelessly stitched together. They carried with them the memories of their past lives, and those memories were tearing apart his beloved wife.

"Sally, listen to me," Jack said calmly, although his voice slightly trembled with sadness. If he had had tear ducts, they would have been watering.

"Oh, Jack…let me rest in peace…"

"Sally. Please. You cannot let those memories from the past take over you. What happened in the past happened, and we can't do anything to change that. From other people or not, what you're experiencing right now are simply memories. The skin that covers you," Jack paused, and trailed a bony finger over the stitched together skin of Sally's right arm, "is now yours, and only yours. Don't you see? This is the skin that you have been brought to life with.

"You have every right to this skin, to that heart, to those eyes. They once lived a life with somebody else, but now. Now, in the present, my love, they are yours. You cannot let them think that they still belong to anyone else. This is your body, and you must control it with your own will. You cannot let the memories overcome you."

Sally looked up at Jack, her eyes confused.

All…Your…

"But Jack, it's so very painful…I just want to be taken apart again, Jack, as if I'd never existed…"

"No. No, Sally, I can't let you go like that. I could never, ever let you go like that. Sally, you must stand up to your body. They are your body parts now. Of course they will still hold memories from the past, and you must deal with those, but you must also learn to suppress them and make new memories, with all these body parts together as one whole Sally."

Sally closed her eyes and rested her head against Jack's chest.

"My body," she said quietly to herself.

"Yes, your body. And I will be here with you every step of the way."

Sally gave Jack a small, wavering smile, before drifting off into sleep. All the stress on her body had really worn her off, and she needed time to regenerate.

And as she rolled away on the waves of sweet sleep, the murmurs and whispers began to fade away, and were replaced with a new mantra…

My body…My body…My body.

Hello. I'm happy to meet you. My name is Sally. Where do you come from? Me? Well, I live in Halloweentown, am the proud wife of Jack Skellington, and own a dog named Zero. I am five feet, four inches tall, have long auburn hair, and the pupils in my eyes are black. I have no idea how old I am, but that suits me just fine, as I always like to think that one is just as old as they act!

My complexion?

Well, it is a bit odd, and yes, there is quite a story behind it…

But everyone has their stories, right? I suppose you could say I'm just unique.

Oh yes, I really do appreciate all the pieces of me. Hopefully, you do, too.

I hope you have a wonderful life.

Please review, and I will happily accept constructive criticism.