I hate you . Natalie lay awake. Her body was exhausted but her mind was on fire, spinning out of control.

I hate you I hate you I hate you. Maybe, if she thought those words loudly enough, there would be no room for anything else and she would never have to think or feel ever again.

I

Hate

You

But Natalie didn't hate her mother. That would have made things far too simple. Hating is easy. It only exists in the mind. It can be compartmentalized. Rationalized. Controlled. But love is in the heart. Swimming through arteries and veins like a disease, infecting the entire body. Love can tear a person apart. And so Natalie convinced herself that she hated her mom. She shut out all the happy memories. The little, hopeful glimmers of light.

Like the day she had brought home a perfect report card and her mom had put it up on the fridge and told her how proud she was. Or the time the two of them had stayed up nearly all night watching bad movies and eating ice cream. Even the smallest things had to be forgotten. The way her mom's eyes lit up on the rare occasion that she genuinely smiled. The faint smell of perfume when she hugged her. Each moment was a glimpse of what might have been. A glimpse of what would never be. For those instants, Natalie knew what it felt like to be normal. Loved. Wanted. Coming back to reality after that was almost unbearable.

In the end, though, she could handle the memories. They weren't what terrified her. What truly shook her to the core was the constantly looming thought that, one day, she would become her mother. Every moment reminded her how similar they were. They had the same dry sense of humor. The same laugh. The same need for everything to be perfect and precise. Who was to say they didn't have the same demons, as well? One day she would be the one staring into the abyss. Trying to find herself. Falling. Maybe she already was.

She had to sleep. Stop thinking. Eyes refused to close. The glowing, red numbers on the clock by her bed pierced the darkness. Time ticked by impossibly slowly, each minute carrying the weight of an eternity. These sleepless, endless nights were going to crush her or drive her mad. Another minute. The clock knew she was suffering. It mocked her. The whole house mocked her. Another minute.

She pushed back the blankets and stood up, groping around blindly for the light switch. She flipped it on and immediately recoiled, shielding her eyes from the incandescent brightness. Stumbling slightly, she made her way to the dresser and opened the top drawer, hastily pushing clothes aside until she found what she was looking for: a pill bottle. The bottle opened with a satisfying pop and she choked down several of the little blue tablets, not even glancing at the label. Now it was just a matter of waiting. For the numbness. For the thoughts to stop. For sleep. She turned off the light and collapsed into bed.

It wasn't long before everything began to disintegrate. The air hummed with static. Faint kaleidoscopic images spread out across the ceiling. The line between the bed and the air seemed to soften and then vanish altogether. Everything buzzing. The moonlight streamed through the window and painted her like a ghost. Gaunt face. Pallid skin.

You're pathetic.

It was something between a thought and a whisper.

Pathetic.

The voice was stronger now. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to ignore it. Was this reality or a dream? Or both at once? The barrier between the two seemed so fragile.

Why don't you just take the whole bottle now and end it? Don't you think they'd be better off without you?

Natalie felt nauseous now. She wanted to get up. Run away. But her limbs wouldn't respond. She was faintly aware of a strange figure in the room, lurking just at the edge of her field of vision.

Henry would be so disappointed. You promised him you'd stop. Even your lazy, stoner boyfriend thinks you're a failure.

The figure paused, as if waiting for a response.

And what would dad think if he saw you like this? Don't you think he has enough to worry about already? You were supposed to make everything better. The perfect plan.

The figure moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. He was not nearly so intimidating now. Only a boy. Not much older than her. He looked almost as tired as she did.

I'm sorry...I didn't mean to hurt you. You know I'm only telling the truth.

"Leave me alone." Her voice was so ragged that it was barely recognizable.

Mom acts like she can't even see me anymore. It's so lonely around here without her. I know how you feel. I know what it's like to be invisible.

Just look at me. Please.

"No."

I can help you, if you let me. Don't you trust your own brother?

All at once, Natalie unfroze. Newfound energy coursing through her veins.

"No! I don't know what you are, but you're not my brother."

She sat up and clumsily lunged at Gabe, trying to shove him away. But her hands went right through him and she tumbled forward, landing with a thud on the floor.

She heard her parents' door open. Footsteps.

"Natalie?" Dan sounded only half awake. "I thought I heard something. Are you ok?"

Shit. She couldn't deal with this right now.

"Nat?" he knocked and then stepped into her room.

The beam of light from the hall cast uncanny shadows over everything.

"Nat, what happened? What's wrong?"

He rushed over to her and helped her up. Finally, she mustered up a response.

"I'm fine, really." she said, painfully aware of how unconvincing she sounded. "I guess I just had a bad dream."

"Sweetheart, you look sick. Are you sure you're alright?"

Under normal circumstances, she would have brushed her dad off with some snide remark. She wasn't five years old anymore. She didn't need anyone to comfort her after a nightmare or check for monsters under her bed. She could deal with the monsters on her own. But not tonight. Before she could even think, she wrapped her arms around Dan, hugging him as though her life depended on it. Everything was falling to pieces. Turning to dust. But he was still there. Always there. For the first time since her mom had gone away to the hospital, she let herself cry. The world was deathly still. Neither of them knew what to say, but it didn't matter. What remained unspoken was more powerful than words could ever be.