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By AllyTrish34, inspired by the FantasTeen novel of the same name.

PlotEdit

"What are you talking about?"

I'm saying that; nonetheless, memories of my adventures with Devin come colliding into one another, like in Aligned Planets. I hear lots of buzzing as memories return to my brain.

This is why Devin can't see Rafaela, Tristan, Lexi, or my other friends. This is why I can't hear ghosts' howls or their flashbacks. This is why the boy in the girls' bathroom can't possess me. This is why ghosts can't hunt me down.

I am not a blasted solid.

"I'm not a solid," I say — at last, brave to declare it out loud. I repeat, "I'm not a solid. You can't see Rafaela and Tristan because they are nothing but my imaginations. I can't see ghosts' flashbacks, I can't be possessed, I can't be haunted, and I can't be hunted because I myself ain't no solid! I'm a maven of ghost-whispering because I'm a ghost!"

"N-N-No way," Devin stutters, even though he was the one to find that information. He shakes his head emphatically, his face paling. "No way. If so, how can I see your two parents? How can my dad and Rocky see you?"

Right now, I remember. Right now, I remember it all!

"The truck that clashed into me," I say, weirded out. It was no truck; it was your Jeep. Your family's Jeep. Lines on your Jeep reminded me of a truck, because I thought it was one. You collided into my car — you and your whole nuclear family!"

"No way! I would've known if I were about to crash into you!"

"Your eye became blind not because a tennis ball hit it, but because you hit the gear shift in your Jeep. I remember — I remember it all!

"This is your dreamworld, Devin! You're comatose!"

Devin only stares at me, full of questions. Tears begin to create puddles in his eyes; but he blinded my eye first. This is a dream. My days with him is nothing but a dream. 

"This is your dream," I say again, this time drawing a shaky breath. "And your dream, merged with my imaginations — my longing — because I've become a part of you; eyes, the gate of supernatural abilities. That's why you can see my parents, and so your fam can see me — it just goes to show that we two want the same thing."

Devin shakes his head. "No way. This is just one of your outlandish theories"

I shake my head back as a response. "This is no theory," I declare. "Life wave — you gave me the idea. We have a pretty similar wavelength. When we were younger, we've owned supernatural genes and, therefore, powers. That's what makes me attracted to you. That's what makes me have consciousness in your dream. That's what makes me not just a fragment, a part of debris in your dream. That's what makes me able to live here."

Devin shakes his head again.

I can't bear to see him keeping on shaking his head, declining reality. "You know it, Devin. You've long known it. Even since Reiner Rivera, you've felt it." I sob, wiping away my torrential tears. "You heard me scream, moaning. You heard me like all the other ghosts. But I'm quite real that you didn't realize it. Then, you heard me shriek...in the hallways. I see the way you see me; you see my life flashback."

Devin's lips screw shut. I sob again, this time harder. I know I'm right. I know he saw my endgame, but he keeps on denying it. This explains why he holds my hands, not letting me go; he wants to persuade himself that he can still feel my presence. But I'm a part of him — his eyes; in this dream, I am real.

Devin drops himself on the nearest couch, stifling tears. I inch toward him, accelerating as I get closer. I place my hands on his knees. My body is quite translucent when my hands touch his knees. I can see the deep color of his Lois jeans. I whisper, "How's my endgame?"

Devin waves his hand, dismissing my request.

"Tell me, Devin," I breathe. "Please. Or I — we — will be stuck here for eternity."

Eventually, he opens his mouth. His breath is shaky. He slowly says, "You were in your car..." he starts off quietly. "I was chatting with my parents, trying to move forward, so my dad's steering wheel jerks to the left, taking your way. We thought it was an empty road — your dad didn't see us. Your dad...and my dad, they were too late to turn the steering wheel. Then a crash..."

Devin closes his eyes, inhaling. "Our vehicles crashed. You were standing up; it was shaking like crazy. You were slammed forward, hard, that your eyes went blind."

"Your parents," he continues slowly, "paid a visit to my room in the hospital, finding me too weak, almost comatose, and blind in one eye. They decided to give away one of your corneas for me, so that at least, a part of you is still alive."

I grin. "Part of me's gonna stay alive, right?"

Devin lifts his face, looks into my eyes, and smiles. He closes his eyes again, nodding. "Yeah. Part of you will stay alive."

I look downward. "If I'm not mistaken, you once mentioned that life art is the ability to enjoy a little and endure more pain. You said, I could be a life artist?"

He nods, tears falling onto his pants, immersing through my hands. I lift my right hand, trying to wipe his eyes, but I end up empty-handed. Even in his dreamworld, I'm an apparition. He puts his hands two inches above mine, as if he can still feel me. I'm tickled pink. 

"'Coz so, you're a genius. Jane Ellice Hopkins said that ingeniosity is the infinite ability to endure scars. And you always can do it. You lived your life in fear — even in dreamlands — and you successfully went through it. You can always endure scars, and you can always hold onto yourself."

I smile. "Say something about farewells."

"Grayish dawn rises, hunters' trumpets heard across the hills, birds with their bright wings blasting through bright dew — are you still sleeping? Have you forgotten just how fast we have to end this? Have you forgotten that we have to part ways today? Peradventure years, or even forevermore: why are you silent, conscience?" Devin stifles tears. "Louisa Crawford."

"Say something else," I breathe.

"When we wave goodbye, in silence and in sadness, half broken heartache to end these years; your cheek pales and coldness tinges, your kiss is frigid and freezing; from the bottom of my heart, we could foretell this silence..."

Devin explodes into tears. He even misses the chance to say who said the beautiful, heartfelt words. Only an atmosphere of sadness, torrential river of grief, and explosion of emotion encircles him. My heart breaks into pieces, debris, to see Devin — Devin who always smirks widely, always laughs, always messing around, and does something awesome — now crying like a newborn baby, whom their mother just gave birth to. Vagitus; Devin once told me the term to describe a baby's first cry. He cries, as if this is his first time.

I throw my hands around his neck, pretending he can still feel my presence. Devin's eyes shine brightly at mine, like the sun when dawn breaks. I see my encircling hands. Really, I'm almost about to evaporate into thin air. I whisper in his ear, "But I'll miss your arms around me. I'd sent a postcard to you dear, 'coz I wish you were here...Then I'll forget the world that I knew, but I'll swear I won't forget you. Oh, if my voice could reach the past, I'd whisper in your ear." I smile. "You know that song? Vanilla Twilight by Owl City? Can you sing it?"

Devin nods slowly.

I smile again. "Go ahead. Sing it. Sing it, till the world around us turns into vacancy, and white light. Sing it, just keep singing it. Sing it, and remember, part of me will continue to live, with you."

Devin opens his mouth, letting out a shaky, soft sound. He sounds a little like Charlie Puth; at some points, he pauses due to stifling tears, but he's singing it. Without realizing it, I shape-shift into a spotted hyena and Devin wolf-shifts near the end of the song. Our snouts move toward each other, as if kissing. Our surroundings have turned into vacancy and white light coats us. We shift back. All that's left is just me, Devin, and vacancy.

Lucid dream; a dream, seeming to be very real. And now, it's time to wake up.

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