I scream and I scream, but nobody hears. People don't recognise I'm there. I just float around after myself, trying to convince them that they're doing it wrong.

Pacing to and fro in this hellish world, telling myself I'm fine and I'm not going crazy.

Listen. That's what I say all the time. Just listen. Listen to me, listen to yourself, listen to your parents.

And now, I'm taken hostage by myself. Forced to live out all eternity as a ghost.

There's a saying that sums up this. 'Memento Mori' or remember we all die. We all die, but I'm dying twice. Revived only to be put to the test and killed again.

And again.

And again.

But a tiny voice in the back of my mind speaks when I feel so low. Normally, it's a degrading voice of myself.

This time it was different. This time is was loving. This time it was a voice I knew and I loved to hear.

Lizzies voice.

"Pearl, I know you're not here physically. But I feel your presence when they're around. Please. Come back."

(Short, like me)