Author's Notes: Being half ghost should've had more mental reprecussions. Please ignore the faulty science mentioned; chalk it up to ghost biology being really, really weird. I have no idea where this idea came from. I may turn it into more than a oneshot in the future, I think. I'm not sure. But I had to get this out of my head so I could sleep.

Another insomniac night spent fighting my own racing thoughts because somehow I can't just lay my head down and sleep like a normal person.

Another night spent staring at the walls, trying to convince myself that I'm okay. If I lay down it will only make me more restless, so I'll wear myself out. I'll surf the internet, watch videos online, read, even, God forbid, do my homework. There's a lot I need to be doing, but I'm leaving it alone right now. I fail regardless of how hard I try. Trying is needless, another exertion I just can't muster up the effort for. Hell, I'm sitting here listening to the humming of my computer instead of even browsing the internet. That ought to say a lot about my mental state right now.

It always comes back to this. Always. It's like that incredibly depressing story Mr. Lancer made us read, that Scottish story. The one with the little girl who's half Folk and half human; Saaski Moql'nkkn. Who would have thought I'd ever pay attention in class? I almost understand what he sees in books. I'm as weirded out by anyone by it. Not that anyone knows I like the story. How could I ever explain to Sam that I relate to someone who's never existed? And Tucker would never take me seriously. Few people do. But I close my eyes and picture her, snub nose, pointed chin, platinum blonde hair whipping around a dark chocolate face, eyes shut as tears leak out.

Neither one thing nor quite t' other, the Prince said. And then he threw her out like trash. I wonder if Dani would like this story. She would, I think. I think she'd understand, and she'd be as addicted as I was. Saaski gets a happy ending eventually, after she works her ass off for it. If by happy you mean being totally alone and leaving behind everyone she ever knew, but I was just glad she got out alive by the time I was done with that thing. One of us should have some kind of happiness. At least she was free in the end. At least her family was happy. At least they didn't kill her. They didn't have to try it, the world alone almost did for them in the end. She was alive, alone. Trapped in their world, which was supposed to be half her world, she was dying. I think I know how she felt.

My human body isn't the real me anymore. It's not who I think of when I think of myself. I think of flying when I close my eyes. I think of running around invisible, of floating through the world, of dying. I find myself running faster, hitting harder, being stronger, in my 'human' form. Something's been shifting for a long time inside me, for a long time. The real world feels fake, shallow, like it's something I have to do rather than want to. Eventually, I'll go to sleep and the racing thoughts will stop. And briefly it'll be better. Then the alarm clock goes off. Like that cheesy line from Avatar, sooner or later, you have to wake up. But I don't. Not really.

There's a lot more constructive things I could be doing right now. Homework, studying, reading, watching the NASA channel, something. I stare ahead blankly instead. I wonder what it would be like to be a ghost. I wonder if anyone would notice if I vanished. If it wouldn't just make their lives simpler, easier. No more ghost attacks with Phantom on patrol 24/7. No more Sam or Valerie or other innocent bystanders getting hurt. No more putting peple around me in danger. Those are nice, altruistic pieces of bullshit I can tell myself to make myself feel better about my own crumbling sanity. The truth is I just want to go ghost and never, ever stop. I want to haunt a place, want to wander the Earth, want to fly instead of walk. And that wouldn't bother me, if it were just desires, because as hard I pretend otherwise I've felt those since the accident. They haven't been as bad before but they were there. So if that were the whole problem I wouldn't be losing sleep. You get used to it eventually, like a smoker who quits and has cigarette relapses periodically. You survive until the next one.

My eyes are teal now, not blue. My hair's coming in gray. Yesterday Sam told me I was going transparent. I was, from the knees down. I didn't even notice. I keep forgetting to eat. I'm beginning to think maybe something bigger is going on than some ghostly growing pains. I should be talking to Clockwork or Vlad or even Jaz about this.

Neither one thing or quite t' other, the Prince said.

But can't I try to live among the Folk? Moql asked.

I glance down. My legs vanish past the knee and my arms are see through. I can feel them. They're there. They just aren't showing. I can feel the glow in my eyes. My sixth sense has been acute lately, that beautiful inexplicable thing I can't get enough of. It's an oxygen I've been deprived of for too long. The sense of where every living being is around me, the light of their life, that thing that's not quite aura that surrounds them, and the faintest echo of thoughts and emotions. I don't know how to live without it anymore. That unexplained knowing of what will happen, what someone's going to say, is keeping me alive. Because without I feel nothing. I don't even feel dead. I'm just gone.

There's so little that seems to matter. Let Sam date that silver eyed boy with that stupid name you have to be a linguist to get right, let Tucker spend his every waking moment with that shy new Vietnamese girl. Everything fades. Everything drifts away from me and I'm tired of fighting for everything. Let my grades fall, let my parents obsess over Jazz while I slink off in the background; do I care? I just want to get away from everything, transform, leave the weight of everything behind. I want to be free. I want to run away.

Sometimes I can't stop my own thoughts, about running away forever, about breaking free. It should scare me. It doesn't. That does worry me. I'm not sure what is happening. I'm not sure I care. If it's a problem they'll want to cure it, and I don't want a cure. I want to fly away, never be visible, explore what this sixth sense can really do, maybe even know what it means to haunt something. To have a connection to something, anything, even if it's sick and twisted. These things are only wrong from the point of view of human beings. Humans can't see past their own points of view. They can't even see from the eyes of another culture. How could they ever understand what it's like to not really be alive, to be more spirit than living thing?

What if I never work out amongst the humans? Moql'nkkn asked.

I could go to a counselor, a therapist. I could answer questions, have my parents called, be diagnosed with what I know I'm suffering from. The human me has a case of Depersonalization Disorder so intense it's nearing the point of no return. I need help. I know I do. I make no move to get any. If I did it wouldn't work on my hybrid biology. Pain killers, aspirin, cold medicine, everything's been off with me. Some things have to be doubled, some never work, some work frighteningly well in tiny amounts. The people around me would never understand. This isn't going to go away. This can't be treated by mortal medicine. This isn't Degrassi; it won't go away next week, or the week after that. There's only one possible cure, only one way out.

Human disorders can't affect the dead. Or the undead. Whatever you classify ghosts as. I stand up, my feet never touching the floor, and turn to the window. I open it with hands that barely appear to be there. My reflecton isn't showing up in the window pane anymore, other than a faint outline. There has been a shift inside me, something biological. I've been becoming less human by the day. I can't even fathom what's happening. I just want it to stop. It's not the hope or the despair I can't handle, it's having both and neither going on in my mind at once. Everything is so completely meaningless. I want to feel something, anything. I swing my legs over the ledge. Even if it can't be seen, it's felt. Down below the streets are alive with sounds. Somewhere a woman is laughing so hard I can hear it from my building. I see the lights of the high school football stadium in the distance. Someone's car alarm is going off. And there's music drifting in from somewhere. My sixth sense might as well be my only one for how little it all means to me. I might as well be watching a TV show; no, it's like having a TV show on in the background and not being able to understand a word of it.

I die so that I might live. How poetic and emo. I think the thought would've made me smile once. I think maybe Vlad told me about halfa DNA being unstable once, about mutations and possibly my powers changing as I got older. I think I hear someone scream behind me. Is it day or night? Is it a dream or am I all too awake? I don't want to doubt anything anymore or overthink every damn thing anymore. I want to know.

I jump.