My heart sparked into a slow, steady rhythm. Next, my breath. I counted automatically. White spots began to crowd my limited, blurry vision. Thoughts and memories flittered about my mind space like a swarm of insects.

Michael Afton… almost 20 years old. I hate birthday parties and bears… the teeth, the noise- they remind me of the first time I died. Fox mask… I hate pickles because pickles are gross. Is my tongue real? I'm not- I'm not real. But I'm alive? Something's wrong with me.

"-looks like a young male… maybe about 16 years old? The bullet wounds here… couldn't cause this much damage, no. What even… yeah, you're right. He doesn't even look human in some places… "

Where am I? Who- Wh- Am I trapped? Trapped! I- I can't get out! Can't breathe! My arm jerked upright. Metal did not brush against my fingers, instead, a cold surface bit at my bare back. My muscles relaxed. I'm not trapped. My breath returned with a rushed, jagged pattern.

It took ages to sit up. My head swayed forward. I slid my foot off the table. A chilly wind rushed through my bare and empty body. My teeth clicked, starting a new bodily pattern. I hugged my arms.

This is a morgue, I concluded, remembering seeing a few on TV somewhere. I'm actually in a morgue. The overhead lights blinded me, partially obscuring the many shelves lining the walls. I took a glance at my midsection. The sharp ringing in my ears added to the eerie music my body produced. What was left of me- chunks of bloody meat, metal, and plastic, wires, and tattered clothing dangling over a misshapen structure- definitely did not belong to a human. I felt a gag reflex shake my esophagus.

Don't throw up, I told my light-headed self, your organs or whatever you have left. My face scrunched in disgust at everything. I gripped the edge of the table. Loose locks of hair slapped my forehead. What may have been my other eye rolled off my cheekbone. The room devoured it.

What the hell am I supposed to do? I- I lost everything. I don't know where to go- where to look. Where's the way to go?

I waited for a reply or snarky remark- or an idea. Something. The wait for directions lasted for an eternity. As silence greeted me, my face fell. Oh. Yeah. I'm alone for real now.

My jaw and eye sockets began to ache. After finding some sterilized clothes in bags that suited my prim fashion taste, I carefully concealed myself. Additional tape and stitches somewhat helped repair my horrible figure.

Hello? I called within my mind, just to make sure. No answer. I hobbled for the exit door. A door frame brushed my shoulder. The symphony of my no-longer-insides distracted me- bones groaning, heart pulsing and leaking with glowing acid, loose organs shifting, etc... You could never understand how it all sounded now.

Luckily for troubled ol' me, nobody stopped me from leaving that morgue- I wouldn't have been able to do anything in defence. I started down a familiar street. Where I aimed to go, I had no clue. I kept my focus on my wobbly walk and a few leaves rushing past the concrete.

The bash of basketballs slamming a backboard grew louder. I squinted through the gate. The two boys- Sasha's cousin's little friends- practised a game with only one goal.

Look, another thing I screwed up.

"Nuh-uh!" the pink hat boy sang.

"Yeah-so! Ask my Nana! The coyote was up there on the roof!" his buddy said, gesturing wildly. Pink-hat-boy rested the ball on his hip. He muttered, "Pants on fire." The other kid frowned.

"Whatever! You're just jealous that I-"

My shin struck the curb, sending me tumbling into concrete. Trying to push myself up shook my chest and shoulders. My energy dwindled rapidly.

Oh, great. I've fallen and I can't get up, my brain quipped. The boys watched me struggle. I crawled forward, mouth and bones groaning. Oh, how I longed for some assistance- some robots to take control of my heavy limbs and set me upright without pain!

"What's up with him?"

I grasped the gate with trembling fingers. It wobbled with my weight. Biting my lip, I managed to steady myself back onto my feet. I took a long breath.

"I think he got HIV."

"Grody," commented the other boy, at which I shot an ugly scowl. "He cannot play hoops with us again."

"For sure."

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A few hours later, word got out that "a body left the morgue". People stared and eyes drifted every-which-way. Everyone was on edge. One look at me and they knew. The thick purple hood atop my head did not cover my glowing irises or my busted face. They knew it was me, and they knew me was dangerous.

Who can help me? I kept asking myself. Sasha? I gripped my arm with a clammy hand. No. She can't. She doesn't understand. And I'll get attached again. I halted my walk, nearly bumping into an old phone booth. A leaf dashed past my shoe.

Father isn't coming back unless I really do come find him. But where did he go? He's hiding somewhere! Somewhere- he took her somewhere-

My teeth clenched together. I let my back fall against the mossy fence nearby, taking a moment to catch my breath. The quiet buzz of the evening amplified the music of my failing body. A humming from within mesmerised me. I forgot about being angry.

Circus Baby betrayed us- she thought that was the only other option. But she said there were other ways- that there's always another way. There are other options. I have other options. Father can't help me. Ennard can't help me. Sasha can't help me. Holly- she can't help me.

Tapping my chin, I set back to wandering.

Who can help me?

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I found myself at my big brother's doorstep. A full day of searching for one house that appeared in an e-mail in spring; an entire day trying to trigger my own blasted memory. Eventually, I pinned his address in the yellow pages. I felt astronomically stupid for not doing this first. Every moment that a car rushed past, I contemplated the action of leaping its way.

The late afternoon sun cast my gangly shadow on the front door.

He's helped me before, I kept telling myself to spark some shred of hope deep within. He should be willing to help me now. He still cares, right? My jaw tightened at the jolly welcome mat at my feet. A leafy plant flapped in the wind.

What do I say? What if he doesn't care anymore? Nobody loves me- he never even called- what if this isn't even the right house?! Oh, man, oh man- my thoughts clambered around in my head. I pivoted on my heel, catching the gaze of a bystander. They hurried off. I adjusted my shirt collar and jacket as if that was the reason for my unsightly appearance.

"I c-can't do this," I mumbled. The doorbell taunted me with its shiny, spotless glow. I lifted my finger. I halfway expected the rest of my arm to move itself or stop in place. My arm fell back to my side.

Press the button, dummy, I forced the thought. My hands formed fists again. Fine. I gave two small knocks. Tap. Tap. Then I stepped closer to press my ear against the door. Footsteps travelled across what I assumed was the living area.

"Hello?" asked a muffled voice. My pulse quickened when the doorknob rattled. I covered the door peephole with a finger and put all my weight against the door.

"W- b-before you op-pen… the door," a warning shot out of my mouth, "please understand that- that I- I might freak you out." My shoulders tensed at the silence. I chewed the inside of my mouth.

"Uhh, who is this?" James' low, gruff voice reverberated through the wall. Hearing it now brought a twisty weight in my gut. I pressed my body closer to the door.

"I- it's, um, it's me, Michael. Your little brother?"

A decade seemed to pass.

"Whom you've forgotten entirely about," I muttered inaudibly, which wasn't fair considering I hadn't bothered to call him either. The door opened. A chubby, bristly-faced man dropped his jaw.

"AHH!"

My foot caught the door before it shut.

"Ow…"

I locked eyes with widened, faded green ones. Sweltering pain began to form in my skull. I've seen them. My breath fell short. The man finally snapped out of his trance, which snapped me out of mine.

Of course I've seen them; that's my brother!

"GET AWAY!" he screeched. He jerked back- a delayed action.

"James, please, I can- I can explain everyth-thing," the words spewed from my mouth rapidly. "I- I'm not safe- I need help- help me, please." I clasped my hands together. James kept his white knuckles fastened to the door. He scanned me up and down. A lone strand wandered from the rest of his neatly-combed hair.

"No," he began in a hoarse whisper. My heart dropped and my mouth flung open. James didn't let me speak.

"You're- you're not him. And if you think you are… you aren't- you can't be… anymore. I knew that- I- he-"

He stopped to frown at his string of nonsense. The silence composed him. I stepped forward and his hands twitched. My muscles stiffened beyond possibility. The imagery of a fist contacting my face swam in my aching head.

"This never happened. Get off my property, and have a nice evening," spat my older brother.

"H-HEY!" I shouted, my voice glitching a bit. The door slammed in my face. My eyes burned as I stood there. I couldn't keep my breath steady no matter how hard I tried.

He doesn't care- my distressed brain began but I clutched my head. The world swayed with colours.

No, he's being a stubborn asshole! He knows something! Why would he say something like that?!

I stepped off the porch, gripping its railing desperately. My head swam. After a few steps, I halted on the brick pavement. I turned back to the house. Knocking again I knew would be stupid, so instead, I surveyed the house's backside. A small window sat at eye-level.

I'm not climbing into any more windows, I told myself and crouched in the grass. My feet crunched some hidden rocks. I peered through yellow curtains. James' quaint little kitchen practically gleamed with its marble countertops and floral decor. My eyes caught movement on the far right. I gasped.

Who is that?!

Her tied-up hair bouncing, a slim woman brushed a cloth over a plate. Soapy dishwater soiled her striped button-up. Every few seconds, she turned her head aside to speak. I followed her gaze. She held a conversation with the man at the table- James. My knees buckled.

My brother got hitched and he never told me! I sprang to conclusions dizzily. Why didn't he- But I wanted to get married! Settle down- buy a house- a car! But he-

To make matters worse, a short someone strolled into the kitchen. The table blocked some of my view until they stepped past. My breath caught in my throat. I distinguished what looked like a scruffy-haired boy- about four or five years old. A dull Lion King onesie stretched around his chubby body. The boy's face lifted. He whined something to the woman I assumed was his mother.

And they had a CHILD?! I thought angrily, my eyebrows scrunching on my face. Why didn't he tell me?! Why wasn't I invited to the baby shower? Hell, the wedding?! A wife, a kid... I can't have any of that! Why does he get to have it?!

With a stuck-out lip, I watched the parents talk to their child. He dragged his feet as he walked off. They'd sent him back to bed.

Father took everything from me, and James gets to have it all, I lamented in my head. James rose from his seat, joining his wife's side. She slipped her hand into his. I still couldn't hear their words. They leaned together in perfect sync and shared a kiss. My zipping heartbeat faltered in my chest. Everything blurred.

No, they- I couldn't repress the memories that began to surface. A kiss… Smoke and perfume burning my nose- spine-tingling as I traced Sasha's lips with my tongue while she stroked the hair along my neck- the swelling aura of heat expanding with our contact- IT'S GONE! IT'S GONE!

"N-nooo," a whine escaped past my dry throat. My fist pressed against the glass. THUNK! I didn't know my own force. The couple broke apart and glanced my way. With a tiny yelp, I ducked.

They didn't see anything, I said once a minute passed. I'm stealthy. I felt a whim of confidence; I almost cracked a smile. After another minute, I popped my head back up.

"OH SHIT!"

I'm actually just stupid. I jerked away from James' perplexed face and crashed onto my butt. He opened the window to fire a scowl.

"Get off my property!" he bellowed. I sat upright with a feeble wheeze. James shut the window and curtains. When I got the air back into my lungs, I scrambled awkwardly to my feet.

"Wait, wait! Pleease, you h-have to- you- I- I'm your brother! Do you kn-know how long it took to g-get here?! JAMES!"

He didn't give a damn. My bad leg went slack, causing a stagger in my walk. I lurched forward. My hip clicked out of place for the umpteenth time. A swear fell past my lips. Everything sucked right now- my voice, my body, my situation- everything. I limped away in defeat.

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Lucky for me, not a soul lingered outside at this hour. Gold street lamps contrasted the indigo darkness of buildings, streets, and sky. I hadn't been this far from home in a little while. It was refreshing, admittedly, but also brought a heavy feeling low in my stomach.

The old bench creaked when I sat. I stared down at my sneakers- how dirty they'd gotten. Dark brown grime discoloured their once bright red mesh. I set to thinking about more important things than shoes.

I can't go back home, I knew. I didn't want to, anyway. The Bidybabs and Bon-Bon… are they still there? I left them alone. My jaw hardened. I didn't want to see them either.

Do they know what happened with Ennard? Do they wonder- care about me? They don't. They're probably tearing up the furniture. I bet the house is on fire.

A piece of litter blew past me- a paper. I chewed the edge of a hoodie string, wishing for better flavour. Guilt weighed down my chest as I wondered if the police got the little robots. Another paper scurried across the ground, the wind carrying it. I caught it with my foot. The blocky lettering across the top nearly stopped my heart.

"End-of-Summer Festival! Come celebrate the conclusion of this year's exciting summer with us! With live music, free food, free school supplies, radical ministry opportunities, and even fireworks, baby! Don't worry, we got permission to bedazzle the sky!"

It would have been stupid anyway, I tried to convince myself. Just a dumb conversion event. A small, faraway part of me knew it would have been fun though, because she would have been there, too. She made everything enjoyable.

And she really liked fireworks.

My throat closing, I squeezed my shaking hands together.

To see the speckled lights dancing in her gaze, lighting up her eyes- her smile, genuinely, bright and all-white toothy smile- I'd give my life to see it.

I snatched the paper up and ripped it into a million pieces. They fluttered away like butterflies. I wished I could fly away, too. Forcing away more thoughts that wormed into my head, I curled up on the bench. Every bone in my body hated me. I hated me. The pained grimace faded from my face eventually.

I'm going back to James. I can't give up- this is the "another way". I'm by myself, but that's just fine. I just gotta keep my head up and pretend everything's gonna be okay. Like Mabel would do.

A heavy yawn overtook my face, and as I stretched my cracked jaw wide, a sticky leaf landed on my tongue.

"ACK! D-DAMMIT!"

I flew upright, coughing. To my dismay, my hacking did not expel the stray leaf. I clutched my sore throat and winced. I'd really just swallowed that.