Hello! It's a long time coming since I updated any of my stories. College has been keeping me busy lately and the writer's block is too stubborn to let me go. I think I even forget how to write, so sorry if this chapter seems rusty. Nonetheless, I do hope you still have hope for this story! I am on the verge of completing the new chapter for Looping, though I seem to have no energy to finish the scene. Please do leave a review in hopes for getting me inspired again. Thank you everybody!

Barely Alive;Hardly Dead

There were a lot of things the girl had grown to accept about her life, including were willingly embracing being Olive the Elephant Girl for the most part of her childhood years, knew that she won't get to live the life she had always longed for without having raised brows upon, welcomed death halfway across, relinquished her last dying breath with overstimulation of it, accepted that she'd no longer feel anything at all, much less even think...

Her mind still processed, the darkness was all around her like a warm glove that enveloped her shivering body during the winter. It was working still, surely of something impossible for the dead. Somehow then, her eyes were moving faintly behind her eyelids, her muscles were numb, as though operating from a different body, but hers nonetheless.

Suddenly, her eyes sprung, browns warm and very much sees. There were no passing panic she should've had, nor was there any coffin that could constrict her from moving. She could still see the oranges and yellows that colored the white room she was in. It glared strongly, daring her to wake up. Much to her surprise, she felt hollow. Felt? Any sensation was foreign then, like a lost limb.

She straightened upon the bed, quite new with the world and unused with feeling nothing. On the background, next to her bed, the monitor beeped with every tug her heart makes, the hallway outside pattering light footsteps, but everything was out of earshot. She was lightweight and drowning at the same time, the noises were as if beneath the sea and she was stuck below. Out of reflex and her personality, her eyes widened. Memories of what had happened rolled over like stills from a film.

She was dead, wasn't she? There was pain, a crap load of pain that ended up knocking her cold. But the surveillance was eliciting screeching noises of the organ that pumps air and blood into her body- the body she cannot feel. Was she dreaming?

The door clicked open, though it resounded with nothing. A nurse in white shoes peered in, her eyes scanning the room before pushing the door wider. Two figures trailed behind the personnel and her eyes immediately recognized the same browns. Her mother was speaking, though her ears couldn't function. It was as if she was watching a three dimensional silent film, all she could do was stare and try to make sense of the scenario. But her mother's voice must've been dry, her eyes were blotchy from crying.

Olive shifted then, sitting upright in the queen sized bed. Her parents were distracted and they looked weary, as if they aged drastically overnight. Her mother looked as if her body had been slumping down for quite awhile that it got used to the posture, and her father's hair were all pepper, the remaining tendrils of brown were like rusts on silver pavement.

"Mom, Dad?" Her own voice resonated in her head as though trapped somewhere inside her body. Her words echoed in its walls and she hoped, waited for their attention.

The nurse glanced at her heart monitor and her father's eyes trailed to her. Close enough, she made herself believe that he saw her. Their brown eyes looked at each other, something she cannot believe would mean so much until..

Until it didn't showcase anything at all.

She hopped from her bed, her feet were not cladded- she had just realized, but she couldn't feel the cold floor underneath. Possibly, she was floating and that scared her- scared, if she could identify the widening of her eyes and the gasp that left her lips.

"Mommy, Daddy?" She wanted to cry, wanted to feel how scared she was, how vulnerable but soon to be safe in the arms of the two people who sheltered her for all her life. But all was far unreachable. It seemed as though she couldn't reach them now. It was as if she was on a bubble floating in the skies, yet she couldn't breathe. She couldn't leave.

A pregnant pause, then her mother sighed, slumping down to her father's shoulder as the man comforted his wife from the pain that they were both feeling. Her father sobbed then, exhaling largely and gravely, yet no tears could escape his eyes. They were reciting a statement, replaying it like a mantra, though Olive couldn't make sense of it.

She inched closer. Almost a breath away, their ragged breathing would have been moist. Her hand deliberately reached out, fingertips opened in a manner of receiving. Yet..

The bubble seemed to burst. No matter what resolve that held her back lets her go. Her hands, her pair that clung to the same parents who comforted her ever since she was young, can no longer touch even the light hairs of their arms. Her one foot has its ground, yet she still fell,

down, down to the ground that caught her and missed her at the same time. Beneath her, there were no pulse counts or even the rays that shone bright light against her eyes, but there was a faint whirling sound and there were shadows that blocked the florescent light above.

She sat up straight, her hands dug to the tiled floors though they felt as though phantom limbs. Before she had the time to register the new sensation, the upcoming noise from before whispered again, and then there was a wheeled stretcher rolling towards her, she was glued on the spot, closing her eyes as she prepared herself for the collision.

There was no panic, and there was also no pain. The cart moved through her, literally. There was just a rush of air, their panic, she even saw the bloody state of the man being carried, and the notion that that said patient just passed through where her digestive system was supposed to be, but she remained flat, her eyes just wide as saucers.

"What is happening to me?" she unintentionally shouted, though nobody seemed to care- at least that was what she wanted to believe. She knows she would be panicking at that moment, and her impulsive shout was a sign of her distress, but why can't she feel any of it?

She ran that busy hallway. Why? She did not actually know, it was some sort of automatic behavior. She knew she has such light feet but not to that extent, in which there was no sound being elicited at all.

If only her ears were working normally, she could've heard the nurse who was keeping track on her vitals a while ago, already left her room. The personnel was about to start climbing down the staircase when she saw her. "Miss, miss-" she hurried, racing herself first in order to corner the woman. She reached the lower level in such an impressive record of seconds that it was almost impossible- well, yes it is, it was due to her bare toes that passed through every stair.

She stretched her arms to the sides in preparation to having the woman's attention. "Miss what is happening to me? Can you see me?"

Still, like before, the woman's eyes were straight ahead, ignoring her as though she doesn't exist.

The nurse continued, passing her body, leaving some sort of mist. She was held aback slightly, as though hair strands on a windy day, as though chalk dust, she formed again. She huffed, spun and glared back at the woman, "well, excuse you, Miss, I'm standing right here."

She would've eventually resort to moping around, voicing random thoughts about her situation when there was a scoff somewhere down the hallway, onto the opening that she passed by in order to enter the floor.

Everything halted, more so she, especially. There stood a man, probably around her age. If she's uncertain if she's already dead or not, the presence of the guy gave her the vibes. He stood a foot taller than her, though she was not a tall girl to begin with. Nonetheless, he was tall, domineering over her. That height has a defined jaw and the bluest of eyes, but what stroke her even more was the rims under his eyes, making him have the dead set kind, as though seizing her soul. He looked like death.

He immediately reverted his eyes, though she was quick enough to notice.

What can she say that will be so eloquent he has no choice but to know she's to be taken seriously?

Greetings, I see you have the penchant for clairvoyance

or

Oh, hello kind sir, may you be so kind to tell me what on earth is happening with me?

"Hey," instead, that was what she came up with. She waved lamely.

That caught his attention. He blinked back at her, she stared back, her hand still raised and she found no willpower to accept defeat.

Then, the brow hidden behind his unkempt blond hair raised, she found hope in that, and so she smiled.

Apparently that was not the right move with the guy. He turned, slithering into darkness as his heels clicked. Strangely, she can hear his steps really clearly.

No matter how much he seemed like he could go on ignoring her for the rest of her days, she still followed suit. She was hopeless and curious as to why he seemed so clear to her and she seemed real or even alive to him.

She matched his steps, giving him just an inch of a lead because she doesn't know where to go. He couldn't murder her, she's already a ghost. Much like Casper, but less cute. "Oh, stop being dismissive, you can see me, can't you?"

She glanced at her bare toes, despite them being free from footwear, and of her having ghost powers, her dress still felt slightly heavy as though weighted with water. Now that she remembered, her phantom head and limb ached and hurt.

The man side glanced at her, unfortunately seeing her weirdly rubbing her arm in some sort of angle.

Beneath the lining of blinding lights, he was casted with shadows. Maybe she really was dead and the world she's moving in was only a mere copy. The guy must be an angel, or like, Charon, off to send her soul and making her passing more official. He loomed over her, his eyes darting a few times because he caught her shamelessly staring.

"Stop staring"

"Ah, so he can really see me"

Like a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar, he was taken aback, blinking a few in an attempt to ease his surprise, "no, I can't"

She would've scoffed then, but she was still unable to feel. Instead, she grinned half-heartedly.

"Oh, I haven't introduced-"

He stopped momentarily, cutting her off mid-sentence" "I know you"

She held both her hands together,

What can she say to that?

It seemed as though his life is slowly becoming more atypical, so much so that he no longer tries to put every puzzle into place.

Especially the girl next to him. She was an odd, eccentric piece, seemingly alive more than the rest of them, him as well.

She very much still looked like the girl from the news, albeit only having her limbs and a peak of her dress on screen. He didn't know what to make of her then, because he knew that experiences can make the brightest of all people melancholic.

Still, seeing her blatant idiotic side, he couldn't help but be taken aback by her sunny disposition. The spirits once told him that they couldn't feel anything at all, except the throbbing pain of what had caused their physical body to undergo coma. They move around as though operated by their personality, but there weren't any sensations left to feel.

The notion and well, his company were enough for them to appear as though stereotypical ghosts. Some even fade gradually, whatever color left soon turn into dust.

She waved at him, as though it was another random boring day and she saw him eyeing the same indie album she wanted for herself. It was as though she's not at the mercy of death at all.

As she neared him, every line of her body began to articulate as he draws life to them. Although she was eerily gray with cold, soft glow wrapping around her, he sees her warm dark brown eyes, the slight tinge that should've been on her cheeks, and the upturned raises on the corners of lips.

Really, how can she look so alive and dead at the same time?

But so does he.

He started walking then, cause what on earth would he do in that moment? Unfortunately, she followed suit.

She started babbling about him, her voice, a step deeper which was unexpected.

Apparently, she was talkative, as what was expected.

He felt her shift suddenly, her expression morphed in reaction to a sudden pain. Her brows furrowed, eyes shut tight with one hand on her head and the other forming into a fist. There was a slight groan that resonated from her throat, but he guesses she was not aware of it.

Her physical body must've been currently feeling it. His father said she collided onto something rough with sudden impact.

She must've noticed him looking at her, yet she still maintained rubbing hopelessly on her shoulder, trying to soothe herself.

They continued their way into the labyrinth that soon became his lair. It was perfect since nobody ever goes there and it was safe to say he has access in. Being a student of Medicine with the pressure of being the next O'Connor to continue the legacy was constricting, since he was not allowed to experience handling cases yet. He honestly felt like a joke, that his father doesn't deem him fit enough, even though underneath it all, logically, he knew it was just because of protocols and ethics.

He could feel her eyes boring at his face, she was shamelessly staring at him, which caused his cheeks to threaten him with the building heat. In their position, he has the upper hand, but the girl was bold and she doesn't even try

He called her off, not realizing that he exposed himself, whatever resolve he has crumbled in the ghostly hands of the chocolate eyed girl. She will be an annoying one, he can feel it.

She had an absolute come back, her cheeky grin making him groan inwardly for the days to come.

Then, she starts trying to introduce herself. His stomach flipping as he almost shouted at her. It wouldn't do good to break his ways, no matter if she's similar to Emma, or on the other side of the spectrum. He must not know her.

She seemed taken aback, but the look on her face quickly made him know she dismissed the harshness. Either she's that light in reality or it was just her incapability of feeling at the moment.

But for the most part, that seemed to shut her up. He couldn't shrug off the guilt though.

Instead, he lets her come with him. His throat clearing as he warns her that he'll be speaking, "you're barely alive, hardly dead"

She momentarily stops on her track, blinked a few times and went along with him. Her aura seemed to shrink, the huge glow around her turning light, he wondered how her physical body took the news.

"The In-Between?" her voice drifted off, eyes distant as if dissociating.

"Still in the land of living," he said a though it was a matter of fact, "but I prefer calling it hell, actually. There's a superlative hell, and there's this hell"

Behind the huge lines of windows, there was a wooden door, a consultation room of some sort, but was no longer used since the hospital was renovated. He opened the door and lets her in first, as if she doesn't have the ability to just slide past the walls.

The energy inside swarm with different auras, he can feel her respond to it too. Despite having him next to her, it was a whole different experience for the first time.

Once she saw, her eyes widen and she whipped her head onto him, he can only smirk back, saying in a melodic tone, "Welcome"

Hm, so what could possibly be the surprise behind the closed door?