Brad had been wandering for weeks, without any idea where he was or where to go. He had quickly learned about deadspots, had lost his coin, and hadn't seen any other Afterlights. Brad knew nothing of the phrases Mary Hightower had created, and simply called the deadspots "resting places". He himself, he believed, was a ghost.

Walking down a living-world street, Brad noted in the back of his mind that he sank more quickly here. Frustrated by his lack of vision, he yanked as hard as he could at his hat. With a sudden burst of willpower, Brad managed to yank it off. He stared at the soggy cap in his hand. He hadn't been able to get any of his other wet clothes off, no matter how hard he pulled, until now.

He hurled the knit hat at the ground, watching with pleasure as it quickly sank through the asphalt. Then, Brad looked around, able to really see for the first time in what felt like weeks. He froze, sinking past his knees, because he was home.

Though Brad didn't know it, Everlost had guided him. It had influenced his decisions, leading him out of the woods, onto a familiar street. Now, as he stared at the small, yellow house, Brad pulled himself out of the pavement. There was something strange about the house, something different, that kept him from simply sinking into the Earth.

Brad was still a greensoul, and his limbs shook slightly as he climbed the steps. He raised his hand to knock on the door, but it passed right through. The little boy sighed, and stepped through the painted wood.

Now, he was sinking rapidly through a worn wooden floor. Brad, nearly to his waist, grabbed for something, anything. He wrapped his small hand around a table leg just as his head sank through the floor.

Eventually, Brad sat on the table. Though the surface was now covered with water that had oozed from his saturated pants, he recognized it. His grandma's old nightstand, which his parents treasured, had fallen and splintered at his sixth birthday party. Brad didn't know why it was here, but it had saved him from sinking and he was grateful.

Brad stopped thinking about the table, though. He stopped thinking about everything, because his mother had just entered the room. She was blurry and faded, so he couldn't see the sadness in her eyes. He knew it was her, though. As Brad watched, his mom moved closer. Believing with all his might that she could see him, Brad held out his arms-

But she walked through him, reaching to straighten a picture on the wall. Still near enough to touch, Brad grabbed for her. Though his hands passed through at first, they somehow stuck deep inside. He pulled with all his might and will.

The emotion was so much stronger this time, so much more desperate than when he had pulled off the hat, that he was more than a match for the universe. Even as it fought back, a hole began to open. Brad's mother gasped as she began to move through. Then it was over, and she stood in front of him, her face more lined than he remembered and her hair more gray. She was still his mother, though, and as she stared at him, her feet began sinking into the ground. There was shock, but something more, in her voice as she asked, "Brad?"


A/N: Sorry for the delay! School started and I've had more homework than ever. Please review!