I do not own Tokyo Ghoul.

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Sometimes, people fall through the cracks, literally or not.

For one, I didn't realize I was falling until I hit the ground. The only slight reprieve came from the darkness that followed, but of course, there were drawbacks. For a long time, the pitch black shroud choked me. Strangled me. But somehow, I was still alive- or at least, my mind was.

The Darkness, as I had come to call it, was a void. Endless, it went on forever and ever. It was an ancient presence, and it probably existed from the beginning of time- and it will continue to exist to the end of time.

For a long time, I drifted along the border that separated reality and delusions. I watched as others slipped through the tears of what was real and what was not. Their souls were bright, and they radiated heat. Warmth. Passion that I have never possessed in my old life. And as quickly as they came, they left, slipping through cracks that I have never been able to see.

Blindingly, I watched as they soared past me in all their glory. Unlike me, they had direction and they knew were to go. I never saw the same soul twice, and that was when I came to the conclusion that they had passed on, they were at peace, and with time they would be reborn into the universe outside again to begin their lives anew, until they made their way back here again. Like spheres of light not unlike lanterns in the night sky, they drifted with a kind of effortless grace- beautiful and ethereal.

On the other hand, I was formless. Non-corporeal. Non-existent. Not even somewhat tangible. I was simply a phantom in a room of shadows, a not-being with a blurred sense of consciousness. While I was aware of what went on around me, I had no purpose- I had a will, but I had no control of anything whatsoever. With that said, I was as good as nothing.

For what seemed like forever, time slipped past me with the weariness that came with a lost opportunity. But patiently, I waited, confident that the cracks would claim me like it had the others.

(It didn't.)

Bitterly, I laughed. It was a hollow sound, and it echoed through the dark space and then... nothing. Until now, I never realized that silence could be so loud, and with bittersweet amusement, I wondered if it was trying to drown me out. But the truth had long since sunk in, that I was utterly alone. The foolish flicker of hope that there may be other not-being such like me was shredded from me like the glaring reality- I have always been alone, and I would continue to be. In this stifling shroud of black, I would continue this aimless existence, waiting for a change that wouldn't happen, waiting to be freed from living, no- existing as this not-being. Is it really wrong of me to want to see the light already?

...But alas, those that existed in darkness had no place in the light.

And that included me.

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Waiting is now easier, because I now know that there's nothing to look forward to. By now, the darkness had a choking hold with me. If I had been a physical being, the lack of oxygen and the choking that I underwent would undoubtedly be excruciatingly painful. But truthfully, I would rather feel pain than nothing at all.

Another soul entered the void today. It was arguably one of the brightest souls I've ever seen in my time in this abyss.

Like the others, it was a white color, but unlike the others, it was blinding, pure and pristine. The soul reminded me what hope used to feel like- it made me think of the sun. All the more, I was surprised when it hovered near my location and it demanded my attention even without words. Scoffing, I realized that I reminded my of a child. Maybe it was.

The soul floated, the only star in the abyss, and in spite of myself, my hand instinctively reached out to touch it, wondering if it was as warm as it looked. Then, it dawned on me how ridiculous the notion of touching the soul was, considering that I did not have a body, much less a hand. I quickly withdrew my hand. (Or at least, imagined that I withdrew it.)

I kept my sight trained onto it. Such a radiant soul would not stay here for long, meaning that it won't be long before I was alone again.

As if it sensed my anguish, it slowly hovered forward towards me, and after all this time, something changed.

I saw it before I felt it. Where my hand was, a flicker of light passed through my imaginary hand, like constellations scattered through the night sky. For a moment, warmth engulfed where I imagined my hand to be, and while the it faded away as soon as it came to be, it was irreplaceable. It was a welcomed change, feeling warmth instead of the cold emptiness that was the darkness. Then, I realized that I was moving, or rather, I was being moved. While I didn't feel, I saw the shadows around me distort and shift. As if a new-found connection had been kindled between me and the soul, it began to rush towards something that was not visible to me, and I was pulled along with it.

The cracks, I reasoned. It's headed for the cracks.

I could not tell if I was filled with fear or trepidation, because however hopeful I was, I knew this wouldn't end well. At this point, I was already a part of the Darkness, and in turn, it was a part of me. I was simply a not-being that drifted in this sea of madness, but at the same time, it was the very root of my existence. I would even describe it as a curse that kept me existing in this non-existent state.

As the soul disappeared through something, and sought to drag me along, as expected, the darkness reacted turbulently. Of course it wouldn't comply so easily. I felt it try to pull me back from the crack that had opened, fighting to relinquish its hold on me, and it would have succeeded if not for the brilliant, stubborn soul trying to drag me out with it, and with it, the pull of the darkness weakened, if only slightly. Preventing me from leaving might have been its intention, but it could not deny the soul, either. Sealing off the cracks would destroy the being suspended between the boundaries- me, but yet what seemed to be the easiest solution would possibly have the worst consequences. I wondered what the consequences would be if that happened, considering that I doubted that a phantom like me would disrupt the whole balance of life and death.

The pull weakened further, and the shadows seemed to shudder in a collective sigh, and I realized that for once, I was allowed to choose- be sucked back into the Darkness, or escape to a destiny that wasn't mine? Having the choice to decide what would happen next was not easy, considering that I've done nothing but make bad decisions in my previous life. I made my choice.

I'll be back, I told the Darkness, and I felt stupid for trying to communicate to something that didn't seem alive. But without a doubt, I knew that I would be back. After all, this void was ancient and ever-lasting, and one way or another, I would be back, maybe for good. I was meant to exist in the dark, and the void made that clear to me.

I was not expecting a reply, but the silence that ensued was still and eerie. The void didn't fully relinquish its hold on me, even as I found myself slipping through the cracks, and I felt a lingering presence around me.

Once again, I found myself falling. The hold of the Darkness only dissipated away moments later, like a deliberate goodbye, like a whisper carried by the wind. I felt the darkness inside me grow, and ominously, it warned me of danger-it was almost as if I had made the wrong decision once more.

(And soon, I found out that indeed, I had.)

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Feedback and speculation is welcomed :)