( december 14th )

[firegap]

One day she walks a familiar hallway and she is no longer alone, someone else is walking it, too. Someone else is restless and knows not sleep. Sleep knows not her or them, in the plural. They are foreigners in the night, but not of the night.

Caroline Becker does not disturb the quiet when she sees her, she makes no sound of surprise, only her singular breathing echoes, coldly, between the walls, ah, ah, ah.

"Who are you," she whispers finally as the other draws nearer. Ghostly limbs pass through her body like she is a barrier to cross, dew forming on her skin, trickling down, running. She is frozen. A little piece of Caroline's own spirit clings to the muddy hem of shapeless skirts while her fellow nightwalker strides onwards, leaving nothing but wet surfaces behind.

No answers offered. Only holes where she was.