Calypso walked out of her house, with the routine sigh included. Funny how she’s able to hear the idiot lantern louder than the cries of her mother that wastes away in front of it.

Calypso had to walk forward. Away from the house. Away from everything that’s the source of her needless sorrow.

Her front lawn was always pitch black until the porch light or the neighbors was toggled. But the poor girl needed something blank to focus on, so she can once again accept her lot in life. Just accept, and not let herself drown in it.

She can’t get angry, simply because she’s Calypso. Calypso is the quiet, passive girl that probably “never” gets angry, an impossibility. She was simply a walking, organic idea of a person—versus living, breathing, human flesh. Even if she did get angry—it wasn’t the same as normal rage. It would peter out, only be a burst, fade before it even began. Maybe she always was angry, but her barren, empty body could never process such.

There was that inevitable crush that followed. A crush that invalidated everything but it.

Calypso can’t angry. Or feel remotely anything. She was too much of an other for that, and she just has to accept it. Accept it until her body dulled with exhaustion.

But it was odd… Calypso was fighting herself so harshly this time, there was this very sharp, everpresent aching across her body. She rubbed at her blazer-clad stomach, then rolled her neck as she clasped at the left side. It was so sharp, she had to close her eyes tight to weather it.

“Hey.”

The sound caused not only her eyes to shoot open, but ease the pain immediately.

Her dear friend was wearing her puffy jacket for the winter months. Torn jeans, one of her tight shirts that hugged her body and bared her midriff. Alice was trying desperately to pose under the streetlight, leaning against it like a 50’s greaser with lowered eyes and hands in her jacket’s pockets.

Trying so hard to be cool.

Calypso huffed in amusement. But lowered her eyes with a grateful smile, returning the sense of comfort.

“Hey.”

As Calypso walked toward her friend, she was puzzled at how far she walked… She was practically at Alice’s neck of the woods, which is 30 or so minutes away crossing a bridge… But the poor girl didn’t mind or care.

“So, Mama Penny fucked up again~?” Alice tried to snark, but her voice was nearly shot. If the sudden coughing fit didn’t somehow clue Calypso in further. That only meant one thing.

“More or less,” Calypso leaned closer to her friend. “Screaming match with the new boyfriend…?”

“Not mine, at least,” Alice said grimly. “It’s fucking stupid. I guess, with you pointing that out, there’s no doubt me and her are mother and daughter, huh…?”

Calypso put her hand on Alice’s shoulder without a second thought. Rubbing it softly, as Alice’s own hand met it to grasp it, squeezing it gently.

It was moments like these, that made them such great friends. Movies, TV, even literature… Portrays it as endless conversation, constant social stimulation… There were times when Calypso and Alice said nothing. For an hour at worst.

But they needed that.

“Thanks for making me not give up entirely on humanity, Cally…” Alice smirked, she couldn’t exactly take what she said seriously, before that smile wavered a tad. A grain of truth in the joke.

“Likewise,” Calypso moved her hand gently, to put it in her own pockets. “Sorry, it’s cold out here…”

“Duh, ‘cuz the world’s cooooooold~!”

Calypso giggled at that. So she was completely off guard when Alice leaned her head against her dear friend’s shoulder, causing Calypso to stiffen.

“They don’t know how to handle us, Cally… It’s only gonna get worse on from here, y’know?”

The poor, silly girl untensed. Letting Alice snuggle in closer as Calypso closed her tired eyes.

“Disappointed, but not surprised.”

She had to accept that, too. But she would be lying to herself, more than usual, if that truth was extremely taxing to force down into her chest.

But with Alice’s warmth, Calypso couldn’t help to fall into that pleasant lull. One of the few reminders that she could feel on some level, and it isn’t all terrible or meaningless.

Such a sweet lull, Calypso could feel the gravity of her head nod forward—immediately causing her to awake from the sudden rush.

It wasn’t the only sensory overload she was experiencing at that moment.

“Jesus fucking Christ on a bike, Cally! I get that you’re Einstein 2.0, but to sleep through the entire class?!”

Calypso wanted to ask what her friend was remotely talking about… But she looked around. She saw many of her classmates packing up, crumpled papers shoving against fabric—zippers—idiotic teenage chatter… All of it surrounded her.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

This was Mrs. Thompson’s class.

Alice leaned forward, her hands slammed against Calypso’s desk. There was never a sense of personal space in regards to her, as she smiled cheekily, looking her friend up and again. The freckles on her cheeks somehow highlighted her mischievous body language.

“Maaaan, you are out of it. Having trouble sleeping still or…?”

Calypso’s face was notoriously stoney. So neutral that others took multiple versions of what they thought she was feeling from one moment. So for her burrow to be tightly furrowed, her eyes squinted as she looked around… Utterly dumbfounded. It pained just how confused she was at this moment.

“…So it would seem?” Calypso loosened her face and proceeded to rub at her left eye with a balled fist.

“Poor baby,” Alice cooed in her special way. Her voice softened, yet playfully lilting, as if she physically took Calypso’s chin and raised it. Had it been anyone else, it would be demeaning. “Guess I won’t totally talk your ear off, since you need to crash or something. Winton Bridge or Mickey D’s~?

It proved to be very unsatisfying, rubbing her eye… No crust being cleared from the eye, and no need to wipe said eye due to the access tears… And as Calypso’s mind lingered on this detail, not much feeling from the action entirely.

Alice took that hand, gently taking it into hers. “Cally. You look seriously out of it. I’m getting worried…”

If being startled wasn’t enough, the rumbling of speeding cars that resonated down the concrete pillar Calypso sat under definitely caused her to lock up. Her head darted in all directions, taking in the fact that she was under the Winton Bridge now.

Calypso’s dour, droopy eyes were wide with uncertainty. Staring at her trembling hands, before quickly grabbing onto Alice’s outreached one again.

“…D-dissociation getting worse, I guess?” Calypso’s voice broke multiple times, due to shaking. “My brain’s getting sicker and sicker…”

“At least you have a word for yours, man…” Alice took the brown bag-covered beverage she’d been liking more lately. Sighing after she’s done with her swig. “That’s why you’re so fucking smart, man. You’re totally gonna beat whatever it is.”

Calypso immediately suppressed a huff of trite. As her aching mind quietly shot the various images, capturing the long hours at the library “researching” something to explain what mental disorder she likely had—all bad… She wondered what was so smart about failing, having even less of an idea before you came out with something?

“You’re crystal that you’re okay…?”

Calypso nodded, looking down. Trying to not give any signs of her self-doubt. “Rant away. I have a feeling it’s going to be a big one…”

Alice abruptly took a large swig of her drink, creating a very pregnant pause.

“So, Corey’s dumped me because he hated how I played his Bagpipes,” Alice lowered her head, huffing her barely contained hurt through her flared nostrils. “Cue another round of ‘Graves-Digger’.”

A sympathetic sigh whistled through Calypso’s pout. “Of course. Perverted ingrates... Between this and your bad luck in general, the world’s telling you to become a serial killer--”

“I JUST DON’T GET IT!” Alice suddenly roared, swinging her arms wildly in an arc. Even knowing her for so long, it always caused Calypso to tense.

“I know,” Calypso knew that her reaffirmation would be drowned out, especially in moments like these.

“They tell us to act all normal—‘go find a club, make friends, get with a nice boy: things’ll be hard, but it’ll work out! I’ve—LITERALLY—DONE FUCKING EVERYTHING! It’s stupid! It’s all fucking—”

Alice jumped from her cross-legged stance to her feet, chucking her vice into the concrete river to be swept away. She belted out a primal shout, clutching her fists, punching her calves until she simply got tired to keep going. Ending up just standing there, her face away from Calypso as she used her entire body to pant.

The poor, silly girl’s jaw clinched the entire time. Trying to find the right words to say.

“Well, for one, Corey clearly doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Calypso knew she had to be both bold and banal at this moment.

And considering Alice immediately giggled, it worked. “Cally—"

“Plus,” Calypso hid her smirk, before settling back. “As I keep telling you… All of these norms only worked one time, for the one person, and just wants to spread misery knowing people can’t live like they have. It’s collective bargaining at this point.”

And with that, Alice erupted in mirthful laughter. Hugging herself to keep from falling.

“W-what did you say to Mr. Erikson about that fucking book we had to read—w-with the American dream and how it’s a rotting corpse we all eat or something--?”

Calypso let her eyes move about, to signal she was searching for a memory. “I cannot tell you. I’ve made the statement, and other fucked up remarks, a lot during my career as a party pooper—"

“Aaaaah, Cally… I’m gonna marry you someday. And we’re having four kids.”

“Odd how the number keeps going up…”

“Hey, if we have four kids, we can ride a rollercoaster as an entire family!”

Calypso wanted to laugh. She wanted to stew in this lovely moment of kindred between her friend…

But something was clearly wrong. Utterly wrong.

She only just noticed how she was covered in Alice’s stolen drink… And she doesn’t feel a thing.

She never felt the wind that usually gusts, hitting her. Not even her clothes that should brush and hug the skin… In fact, her entire view—the world around her… It was there, but it had no detail.

She couldn’t focus on it.

“Caaaaaaaally…”

Calypso turned, only to see a corpse being flung directly into her face. Alice’s decayed, rotting skull continued to speak.

“Just fucking die already, you freak.”

Calypso screamed as she rose from her hospital bed. Kicking the covers off of herself because she finally found the courage to run.

“A---FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!”

She started to calm, looking around in her blue, overly lit room. Tiled flooring that reflected the strobe lights on the ceiling. She was the only one in the room, framed in the metal bars of the bed.

Her hands quickly rose to her face, smacking them against it. Stewing in her shame and sweat, she parted her fingers to look down at her gown.

“Well,” Calypso muffled against her palms. “Trip failed.”

She banged her head against the pillow, draping her arm against her eyes. “Whole purpose of the trip was to never come back. And I’m back. And Alice is probably in the other room getting questioned. And Mother should be barging in concerned and screaming any second now. What a failure.”

By moving her arm from her eyes, she wiped the sheen off her brow in tandem.

“I guess that’s what happens… Your brain trying to make sense of things at the last moment. Otherwise, yeah, what the fuck was that—?”

“The creatures of the damned—”

Calypso jumped, and shot her head to the left.

Where a mauled Alice stood before her. Calypso couldn’t even take the sight in, as the apparition was fading and barely there.

“And one’s eating you from the inside out right now, Cal. I want you to keep looking at me, Cal. Please. Just keep looking at me.”

But the poor girl heard the heavy breathing behind her.

She couldn’t help it.

Looking back, she saw the massive, hunched, decaying skeleton monster peering into her. Not getting a good look at it, as Calypso instantly ran from it.

She tried to scramble away, but the thing grabbed her by the ankle, using its claws to not only grip but dig into her now bleeding skin.