Young Writers Society

I nodded in agreement.

"No matter alis are," Nathaniel said, taking back control of his mouth, "it seems like this London is different than our Londons, even ignoring the difference in time periods. You don't have de-spirits, and you have the..."

He glanced over at my body as if I was still in it.

"The Problem," I filled in. "Not that it was a thing back during this time, anyways. Fittes and Rotwell hadn't started tearing holes between life and death. Life was mostly in life, and death was mostly in death."

Saturn blinked. “Pardon me. Tearing holes between life and death?”

I blinked. That didn’t sound right. Or possible. How could one tear a hole between those who had died and those who continued to live? I mean, it made some sort of sense for the situation they were in. Skull had the powers of possession. So did spirits. Therefore, it wasn’t terribly difficult to conclude that Skull was some sort of spirit that haunted the Earth. “How did they manage that?”

"Lots of Gates," I said, which didn't really explain much. These people were nice enough to give me medical care, sure, but I had seen what happened the last time people went stomping into the Other Side. The balance between life and death was fickle as it was. I wasn't going to give the key to taking ghosts out into the living room to them on a silver platter.

I shrugged.

"It's been fixed," I added. "Or should have been. I passed on before I could really find out."

Estella Fay laughed nervously. “That’s a… disquieting thought. I can’t say I like that all too much.”

I nodded. “And you’re certain it’s closed?”

I mulled the possibility of it not being fixed over.

"Lockwood & Co does have a tendency to screw things up," I admitted, thinking of the many fires they had caused before on various jobs. "But London's in good hands with them. They're probably the lead agency now..."

That was a sobering thought, thinking of where Lucy and all of her friends were now. I tried not to think much about the time I had spent with them. It hurt too much, these days.

Nathaniel awkwardly coughed.

Achebe was now lifting Skull slightly to bandage his stomach wound. “Well, regardless, your friend is almost bandaged. I can fetch something for the pain once this body… is occupied.”

Estella Fay nodded. “Thank you, Achebe.”

“It’s my job.”

I eyed my body.

"You sure it can't be taken before it's occupied?" I asked.

Nathaniel sighed. "Skull."

"Fine," I said. "I'm going, I'm going."

I walked over to my body and grabbed onto my wrist. With a breath in and a little bit of thought, I switched back into my own body.

"Ow," I immediately said, feeling all too aware of my injuries then. "That hurts."

Nathaniel, who took a second to regain his balance now that he no longer was fighting me for control over his own body, just gave me a look of disbelief.

"I thought you were an all powerful ghost," he said.

"I am," I protested. "But my body's corporeal. Pain doesn't feel the same when I'm spectral."

Nathaniel just sighed again.

Achebe just came and sat Skull up gently. “Just drink this. It should help.” She put a glass bottle to his lips.

I frowned. “One would think with so many injuries you would have… become used to the pain.”

Saturn held me a bit tighter and kissed my forehead. “Don’t say that. It’s not his place to get used to it. Just like it wasn’t…”

The unspoken your hung heavy in the air. I flinched and fell silent.

I narrowed my eyes, a scowl on my face.

"I was a ghost for over a century," I said. "It wasn't like I was getting stabbed all the time then."

I didn't really need someone to hold the bottle up, now, so I raised a hand up and grabbed it from her hands. I downed the medicine quickly, grateful for some other than Asmira's all-too-painful antiseptics. That was what I usually got treated with.

"Besides," I said, "Natty boy handles pain worse than I do."

Nathaniel frowned. "I don't."

"Tell that to the tree that made you cry when you stubbed your toe on it last week," I said, smirking and all too happy to taunt him in front of everyone else.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” I looked away from Nate, fidgeting with my fingers. I saw the scars and assumed Skull was like me. But, he wasn’t. I was still alone in that feeling. Skull had no understanding of how I felt.

Saturn leaned down and gently kissed my forehead.

Estella Fay huffed. “Well, sometimes stubbing your toe is worth crying over. It hurts.”

"It was still funny," I said, grinning.

Nathaniel groaned.

"You're so immature," Nathaniel said.

"Says the, what was it? Sixteen years old?" I pointed out. "You're just a kid compared to me, Natty boy."

Nathaniel crossed his arms, bristling with annoyance. "It's eighteen."

"Oh yes," I said, "there's a big difference there."

"I'm turning nineteen in a month," Nathaniel reminded me. Though I would have never told him that, Nathaniel often came across as older than he actually was. It was probably how he dressed and held himself. It was clear that he had come from a position of power, if you knew to look for it.

“My best friend is nineteen. She’s very mature.” Estella Fay picked at a stray thread on her gloves.

“She shouldn’t be. Not for the reasons she is.” I took in Nathaniel with new eyes. He was younger than I thought. I remembered when I was nineteen. My father was dead by then, and I was up for election. It was a terrifying time. A time I didn’t want to remember.

"Well, I'm over a hundred," I said, just to really point out how old I was compared to everyone else here. "You're all children compared to me."

Nathaniel just shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Malvis says that maturity isn’t found in age, but in the violence of life experiences.” Estella Fay’s wings fluttered. They always fluttered when she mentioned Malvis.

"Oh, I've had a lot of violent life experiences, too," I said, gesturing down at where all of my scars were.