3 Three.

    The broken wall lies under me; it had been the face of the building that hit me bare seconds ago. My cheek is pressed against the grit and dust swills away at my breath. This is wrong.

This is wrong.

This is so wrong! I should be... gone, somewhere else... not here... Because... this mammoth building hit me, I know it did, so why am I now on the other side of the wall?! I sit up and smack my head. Craning my neck around in my hunched position, I find myself in a ribcage of debris just big enough to lie in; clacking shards drop from the roof, burying me under layers of white, bones of metal and other jagged materials poke out at odd angles, and groaning steel beams support a ceiling of cracking stone and... and splintering sense. Because this is wrong- it doesn't make sense; this building landed on me. My fist thumps the ground and it hurts, and the stone stays intact. So the front wall should have crushed me... yet it didn't... but it did... or did it? Perhaps I missed something vital? Perhaps... no. I can't think of any reason I should still be surviving... Would other people survive from this? Yet I have read in newspapers where they have... stopped... stopped surviving? When they fell... Did buildings fall back then as well? Before the years stopped counting did the buildings fall? I realise I am thinking about people again, about the old world and I told you I would stop so I try to. Yet, I feel the paper against my skin and pull it out. In the partial light, I see Davinia's name. I see Nic blinking with all its little lights, the spinning stars. Nascent...

    As I sit thinking, stitching so many questions and doubts and thoughts in my head I abruptly hear you. I hear you calling, your voice catching on every syllable as though overused, begging me to tell you where I am.

    I'm here! I'm here! I yell, but it's too quiet, too distant for you to hear and yet your voice stays constant, over and over asking where I am. Faithful, certain that I am still surviving. I'm here! I shout, but it's still too quiet. I notice a gap in the wall, enough for me to wring myself though without the backpack. Where is the backpack? It isn't on me, where could it be? Was it caught on something or maybe this building tore it from me? Or did the straps finally give out while I was running? It's just like the dome building again. I ignore the heavy weight in my chest and scramble on elbows and knees through the narrow opening and my body aches, as though every movement is breaking it. The marrow of the building grabs at me as I clamber towards your shouts, pinching me as I funnel through the tight gaps. My breathing grows loud and heavy as I slowly get nearer to you, your voice not moving as you yell. I'm here! I scream back but it's still too quiet and we are too far apart.

    Somewhere along the way my skin becomes viscid from sweat and blood from numerous scrapes under the beleaguer of the building. My clothes tear against the floor. My head a nothingness. I don't realise it has become brighter, nor that the body of debris has gone, not until I almost crawl over the edge of a crevice. I stop. My heart leaping in my throat as I stare into the yawning mouth of darkness. I hear your voice behind me but a wail I haven't heard before sings in my ears. The shadow is there, in the abyss as it's mammoth arms reach up to embrace me. I push away from it and it drops its arms, the wailing, I realise is crying. Coming from that shadow. It breaks me to hear it. My body tips forwards and though ground holds my skin, my head falls over itself and plummets into the dark.

~~~

I wake to buzzing.

Buzzing vibrating through me. You are here, leaning blearily over me as you push the tablet against my chest. Heavily, I rise to sit and you let go. In my lap I can see (only just) Yourtube on the screen playing the buzz in loops. YouTube, you say still too stupid to understand. You shake your head and laugh thinly. Slowly, I blink and in that time you suddenly have the backpack with you, in your hands, reaching it out to me. I sit up, not remembering having lain down. You passed out, you tell me as you give the backpack to me and I take it, my bloody hands smearing rusty greys over the old material. I thought I had lost it. I sit, cradling it, and then look up at you, and ask you to help me stand. You shake your head and laugh softly. Abruptly, I find I have had enough. I want to know answers. You laugh again and ask why I am not standing, why I am looking at the backpack so strangely.

I don't say anything- I don't even glance at you. I stare lividly at my thoughts. Of all the thoughts I have ever had, of what grass smells like, of what ghosting was, of the spinning stars, of Davinia, of voices, of touch, of the sounds on YourTube (the bone-bare very few noises able to come through on the tablet's muffled speaker), of that first video, of who that person was on the video, of their life, of their thoughts, of the dome building, of people now so... gone, of that question, of THAT question, OF THAT UNANSWERABLE QUESTION:

  Where are you ?

    You say something. You attempt to assuage my silence by speaking because you are too stupid to see I want to be alone.

    I can't forget.

You stop talking and smile tilted-ly at me.

    I can't forget people. You don't smile now, I see the rouse pilling between us again, like that one so many many lonely time miles ago.

    I need them. I NEED them. What am I? What are you? Why don't I know anything? Why does everything feel so strange? Why do you not ask questions? Why don't you need people?

    The tirade is on your tongue, your shoulders rise and drop shakily, a snarl in your brow. Yet you say nothing; you stay silent. Then, in a long breathe out you say that those people only hurt me. I don't understand, explain it to me clearly, I argue. How can you, you say and there is something about you now that I can't place; something so painful to watch as you whisper how can you explain when I don't know already. Then you turn to leave. I grit my teeth, I shouldn't be surviving when nothing else is, and so, neither should you. 

So what are you? I scream at you: WHO ARE YOU?! I expect you to keep walking, to ignore me like you always do, except, you stop.

    Are you finally...

your voice breaks, wobbles.

Are you... are you finally...

finally...

looking at... me? Are you finally ready...to see...

to feel my hurt?

    And then... you start to cry. You start to cry, then sob, then you make a sound- a wailing sound so filled with pain and hurt I start to cry too. I try to reach up, to touch you, because perhaps I was wrong; maybe you are a person.

You are the person.

    You are you. Where are you?

Let me touch you. I try to crawl towards you, but you take steps away from me, shaking your head, still screaming. Please, just tell me why I can never touch you? Why didn't I realise for so long that I don't need people if I have you? Why can't I touch you?! Why can't I see you?! Why can't I remember you?! Where are you? Please just tell me how to get to you! Please answer me! Tell me please please

Where are you?!

Then a thought comes into my head that doesn't make sense;

I miss you...

~~~

   I wake up abruptly.

Tears are smeared over my face and there is that feeling that I know so intimately. Indescribable, the feeling that only those who know it will understand.

I grab my phone from beside the pillow and check the time: but don't actually care, it can be 59:09pm or 1am for all I care. My head aches. I will have to get up at 9:30am today though. I have to everyday. Everyday starts at 9:30am. The loss resets all over again.

I hug the teddy you gave me tighter and tell myself it's you, again. I tell myself I can wrap my legs around yours like when I was small. I can stroke your shoulders, play with your hair, inhale your aroma as I burry my face into your back. I tell myself it's you. But I can't go back to sleep, and I don't know how long I can hold onto the thought which I more-than-half truly believe. So instead, I push the teddy away; you have simply rolled over. Staring at the ceiling, I eventually find myself comparing the shades of black. As though the shadow from the dream is so large it fills the whole room.

Remembering small pieces of the nightmare, I mostly remember the awful feeling it left behind. I wipe the tears away. You always knew when to wake me up. You always just knew. But I find the dream also left behind something else- I feel the denial start slipping. Try as I might to grasp it, I abruptly see it. I see you. This is it, isn't it? You are really dead. I launch out of the covers like I might throw up and sit on the edge of the mattress. I finally hug the shadow that had been trying to embrace me the entire dream and I sob like a child. For a long, long time.

~~~

    It's like a weight has fallen, like the shadow has shrunk to a child again like when I first saw it. Wiping my eyes and blowing my nose into a tissue I stand, sit, yank my hair, release it, pull, release, stand and walk over to the curtains to draw them apart. The moon is waning into a slither- so the stars are out tonight. I sigh, my whole body feels like it can buckle under the enormity of it. Each breath is a kick in the ribs. Each breath a lifespan without you. I cry again. I stay standing, staring at the stars which spin in my tears, my tears billions of years old. Billions of years away from you.

   'Where are you?' I whisper in a voice like spreading cracks. My phone buzzes. I go over to it and see a notification on Facebook, an image of a woman dressed in mourning clothes surrounded by others in black and all with smiles for a wedding with party lights streaming across all the glittery faces. It's like a joke, like bad actors.

'Why is she wearing black? She's not fooling anyone... she isn't sad at all, is she?' I choke on a brief, cold sob and swipe up. The light washes over my face. I dial her name and stand again at the window watching the cross of Cancer graze the sky, staring bare-faced back. The number rings out and a happy voice comes through 'Heyyyy! It's me, Debbs Autumnbell! I'm probably too busy working or, you know, helping my ill sister out right now cause I'm a decent person - so stop phoning me Jordon - but I'll get back to you! ... *beep*'

   'Hi Debra... it's me... I just... I'm struggling a bit here and... well yeah...' Sigh, send, wait for no reply. 'Well, she's not interested anyway... I should've said something like "Hey! I'm feeling shit right now, but how's your favourite ex Jordon? You always talk about Jordon, not caring what I need to talk about. I thought you promised to change your answer-phone message, but you don't care anyway. I mean look at this picture with you and your friends. All just bad actors."' Muttering frustratedly, I throw the phone onto the bed and glare at Cancer again. 'I hate you... I just want to die.' Something about the dream comes to me. Nic. And Davinia, Davinia the astronaut who... who discovered Nic... and it didn't look like it was supposed to be... a dragonfly. Nic didn't look like a dragonfly even though it was supposed to be one. Constellations tend to be like that, I think as I watch the stars, yet cancer, the way it looks like a cross. That seems right. A cross.

    I sit down and remember pieces of the nightmare, writing them down as they come. The church. I was trying to go back to the beginning and never made it. You stopped me, didn't you? You stopped me from going back to the beginning. 'Thank you.' I whisper, clutching my chest as more silent tears spill down my cheeks. 'Thank you for stopping me... it's been a long time now hasn't it? It's been six months already... It can't have been six months. You said you would see me soon just yesterday- I swear it was yesterday.' I smile achingly up at the broken lights, spinning again in my watery vision. 'Thank you so much. I really miss you... maybe it's time... I stop thinking that way. I have to keep moving, I have to keep going don't I? I have to start taking the happiness without you. It's so unfair. But I guess, we were never promised fairness in the first place.' Abruptly, the shadow in the nightmare comes into my head. I realise now how the 'shadow' was all my feelings, all of them folded into a single shadow that kept growing. The hurt I have been avoiding, all the emotions were in that shadow of me. That small shadow that followed me in the nightmare, it just wanted to be seen, to be felt.

   The phone buzzes again, except it's continuous. I pick it up with a ridiculous fear Debra might have heard me, until I see the number. I answer it.

   'Hey, I had a feeling I should call, not sleeping either?'

   'Your timing is always something else. You can't say you aren't a mind reader.'

   'I'm not! I just know you.'

   'Mind reader.'

   'No.'   ...   'I wish I could be there with you.'

   'Me too...' Quiet. Moments ease past, listening to the post breakdowns in each other's voices. I look up at the stars, searching between the bright ones for those infinitesimal ones. Searching for Cepheus. 'I had a strange dream.'

   'You did? ... I am real; just so you know.' I laugh a bit, they kind of do too. 'What happened?'

   'I don't know how to say it- so must happened and it's all really confusing... I don't know... I just... HHHhh...' I sigh, my head clamming shut, going white. 'What was I talking about?'

   'Um, a dream. You had a dream.'

   'Yeah but what was I trying to say?'

   'I don't know, you didn't say it.' We both wait. 'You had a dream.'

   'Yeah-yeah and... and I was in this city.'

   'City?'

   'Yeah, and it was all like... dehydrated of colour, like black and grey... that's a good line, I need to write it down.'

   'A really good line.' I grab a pencil and pad.

   'What did I say?'

   'Umm, dehydrated of-'

   'Colour. De-hy-drat-ed-of-col-our.' I put them down. 'So, so yeah. The city didn't have any colour or people-'

   'Spooky.'

   'they all disappeared because of this thing called "ghosting" or something and I was all alone except this "you" who kept really annoying me because they were so stupid.' My mind drops into the pillow of white. They wait a few seconds before inhaling loudly- the way phones make a break in silence painfully sharp and loud.

   'Was it... do you think it was them?' Taking a deep emptying breath, I breathe out a-

   'Yeah.' They make an empathetic noise.

   'Was that all the dream? Ghosting sounds awful, dreams can be a bitch can't they?' I laugh weakly.

   'Yeah, but I was alone for so long and was so so lonely-'

   'I'm not surprised.'

   'so I wanted to go back to where I started (this little church that looked different from the rest of the buildings (which were made of some sort of futuristic glass)) but it took a long time because it was so far away. You know, I was collecting paper in the dream to put on the surfaces where I lived in this old apartment, but everything was so old that clothes like... melted off... but of course there was still paper, you know; dream logic.'

   'hhhaa, dream logic...'

   'So anyway, I was going back to the beginning when this building fell on me...'

   'Fell on you? Did you wake up?'

   'No, but for some reason I couldn't grasp what death was but knew I should be... I should be dead. But I kept wanting to go back to the beginning suddenly, the need just came out of nowhere. But I think the beginning was me... killing myself...'

'But the you stopped you?'

'Yeah.'

'I'm glad. How did they stop you?'

'I can't really remember. I think they just kept warning me, but they weren't that smart so it took them ages but they finally got me to look at them and... what was I talking about?'

'Umm... the you stopped you from going back to the beginning?'

'Oh-Yeah. So... I just kinda realised in the dream that-that they're really gone. That I can't keep avoiding it...' A pause. 'You know I think... I think the you wasn't just... them but also-also you, and my brother and all the people I love now, I think the you was everything. Everything to live for. But I don't want to live without them... I just- I just-' I start crying silently and I'm not sure, but maybe they do too. They take a sharp breath.

'I'm so sorry all this had to happen to you and I am so so sorry life is treating you like shit. I wish I could just go get them and bring them back for you or do anything... Is there anything I can do?' I shake my head, realise they can't see me and croak a no, staring at the stars.

'They're just... they're just so far away.'

'I wish I could reach through the phone and give you a big hug. Come round to ours tomorrow. You don't have to stay there, Debra is just - I'm sorry I have to say it - she's just treating my best friend like shit and I want to steal you away from there and bring you here.' I laugh appreciatively.

'How are you?'

'I'm not doing very good. I mean, they were your-' a deep breath. 'And I loved them sooo much. I love them so so much.' I can see the tears carving down your face, shaking your head, looking up in that way that you do, wiping just under your eyes with your fingertips in that way that you do. I feel so grateful for your being. 'So so much. And it just really isn't fair. It isn't fair at all. It can't have been six months already, I mean, I remember it like it was only yesterday. They were such an amazing, strong person. So unfair. I found a poem that reminds me a lot of them, you should read it - I mean you don't have to... but you have to read it.' A small laugh, a sniff. I rub my own eyes.

'I think the people in my dreams were memories, you know how... grief stops you from remembering things, the subconscious takes it all away to protect us, I think in the dream the you was trying to get me to see that I need to get out of the past. I need to stop looking for my memories... You know, there was also this person I kept thinking about called Davinia.'

'Dav...'

'Yeah, and Davinia had gone to live on the moon and she found this constellation and called it Nic and it was a dragonfly..' A huff at the irony. 'But in the dream Nic meant nascent which means potential. It kinda speaks for itself... anyway I'm really tired so I might try to go to sleep.'

'Me too... Goodnight, sleep well... you should write all this down.'

'Mindreader. I was gonna write a short story about it anyway.'

'I'm not a mindreader!'

'Sure, whatever you say.'

'We should go stargazing soon.'

'Stop reading my mind. See you tomorrow, love you.'

'Love you, see you tomorrow. Oh, the swimmer's out, can you see her? She's doing a backstroke, her head is over the moon, she looks like an Angel right now.' I look out the window, searching for a cloud and then I see her in the distance.

'Oh, I see her. She isn't over the moon for me, but she is heading towards it... Do you remember when we first found the swimmer?'

'We were on the bridge... after the funeral.'

'I really wanted to jump. I'm glad we have the swimmer, she reminds me about the bridge, about why I didn't jump. Maybe in the dream, it was so cloudy because the swimmer was all over the sky trying to remind me it isn't as lonely as it might seem. Anyway, nigh' night. Love you.' We hang up. I stare at the stars and gaze at the swimmer, her dark frame driving through the sky. I think of the creature. I think of all the reasons to keep going. I stare at it all, bare-faced. I remember reading somewhere that the missing changes. I think is it, it's changed. Ineffably changed. Always changing.

'Okay. I'll live. I'll live for you. And then come pick me up when you can and we can both live on the moon together... I won't ask where you are, but please wait. I've just got to pack as much happiness as I can first.'