I was right in my prediction that we would become good friends. Currently Olivia, or Liv as she told me she prefers, and I were walking through the city. She was patient as I cooed over all the amazingly weird things around me, even laughed as I made her join the cue to a cookie dough shop, that sold it by the scoop. I had to restrain myself from dragging her into a waffle house, stopping for flower shape scoop ice cream and buying at least three of the best looking hot dogs I had ever seen just so I could try them with the different toppings the vendor offered. I reminded myself that as I lived here now, they were all going to be here tomorrow and that pacing myself was probably a clever idea.

We had talked the afternoon before, and I had walked down to the library foyer with her and made her promise to meet me in the same spot at midday the next day. I exchanged numbers with her just in case I needed to hunt her down, but there was no need for any drastic measures, she had showed up- subdued and nervous, but the fact she had, proved to me that I had made a little bit of a difference already. We had text each other non- stop for most of the evening getting to know one another, so it didn't feel like I was meeting up with a stranger.

I had learned that Liv is super smart. Like the super duper smart you see on stage giving presentations on how their latest innovation is going to save the world. She is studying Engineering and happy, I learned, to be spending her weekend out of the library.

She laughed for the first time since we met when she told me she got her results last week from her latest exam and had aced them. I was so happy for her I had practically jumped on top of her to give her a big hug.

Everyone needs someone to give them a big hug once in a while.

We were currently sat in the park, lounged out on the grass licking the remnants of cookie dough from our spoons.

"I had a really good time today." Liv said, putting down her spoon and picking at the grass beside her.

"Me too." I agreed, giving her a smile.

"And thank you." She mumbled, not looking up to meet my eyes.

I knew what she was talking about, and my heart ached for her pain.

"Your welcome. Any time you feel like that you call me, OK? I'm here for you."

She glanced up at me, watery eyed. "I really needed to hear that, thanks."

I sighed, reaching over to grasp her hand in mine.

"You know that this isn't over though, don't you? Making friends- no matter how awesome, beautiful, smart and funny they are-" I teased, "will not make these feelings go away."

She smiled ruefully at my joke then sighed and nodded, looking out to the distance her eyes glazing over as she thought about what I had just said.

"I'm going to call him, tell him I'm going home next weekend. I'll talk to him then, properly. Tell him everything I'm feeling." She said, nodding to herself as though she had convinced herself that this was the best thing to do.

"Great Idea." I replied. "And I'm here for cookie dough ice cream and what was it? Saturday Night Live? When you get back." I was eager to watch a new show, especially if it would make me laugh as much as Liv said it would.

Liv went home soon after that to call her dad and I trudged home feeling full. Home. It was weird that I was already calling it that in my mind, but I liked the fact that I was settling in already.

Dagon met me at my front door, laughing as he saw me waddle through the door and collapse on the white sofa I had previously been tentative to even sit on.

"You do remember me telling you that we don't have to eat right? Our bodies don't need nourishment to stay alive, because technically we aren't."

"But the cookie dough looked so good..." I moaned, pouting, before I smiled brightly. "Does this mean I can eat as much as I want of anything I want, and I won't gain weight, or get diabetes or have a heart attack?!"

Dagon chuckled. "You dancers, always looking out for the bright side of every situation."

I grinned in response, sitting up, wondering whether to choose takeout pizza or Chinese food once I felt a little less full.

"I just called round to tell you well done on your first dance. Expertly preformed." Dagon said, breaking me away from my food related fantasies.

I smiled and nodded, before collapsing back down onto the sofa. "It feels good knowing I saved her life."

"It always will." He replied. "Now you have gone through your first Jump, you will be able to Jump anywhere you want to without the need to experience the pull. Just picture where you want to be then pull yourself there."

I gasped, sitting up again. "I actually have a real life super power."

Dagon rolled his eyes. "Just keep it inconspicuous and don't become reliant on it, sometimes you need to walk down a street or two to remember there is a world around you too."

I nodded in reply, smiling at his words of wisdom. "I will definitely remember that, oh wise one."

I was met with a lopsided grin slash grimace before he Jumped out of my living room with a "see you later Ellie."

The night was hot and clammy as I tossed in my bed, debating whether I had the energy to wake up properly and open a window. The Chinese food had been a mistake. I was riding on the high of the revelation that I could never get fat or ill from food and had eaten way too much. Ordering the meal for four just so I could have a little taste of everything had been overkill.

With a huff I stared up at the ceiling, in the dark, shadows casted across the walls. I followed their intricate shapes until my gaze met with the curtain covered window. The bright city lights peeking through the gaps.

I was not hungry, and no longer tired. I couldn't decide what I was. Would the rest of my life consist of waiting for the next pull? When exactly would 'the rest' of my life end?

It started as a dull ache in my chest, I rolled over thinking it was all the food I had gorged on earlier that evening. But the pull began, and I knew it would become a familiar feeling. I rolled out of bed and walked over to the wardrobe to change before I jumped. Me in a white nightie wasn't a sight anyone needed to see.

I managed to make it to the mirrored doors of the wardrobe before the pull overwhelmed me. It was so much stronger than it had been with Liv, so much so that it brought me to my knees while I grasped at my throat for air.

I didn't hesitate, my eyes closed, and I felt the world fall away, the pull growing stronger until it released me from its hold and I found myself on cold white bathroom tiles. I glanced around me, gasping in horror as I saw a broken figure in the empty bathtub. Crawling over, I checked their pulse. They were still alive, but the empty bottle of pills by their side told me that without help it wouldn't be for long.

I stood up and raced out of the bathroom, telling myself that I needed to remember to take my phone with me before I Jumped next time. The man's apartment was small, a studio with dark and brooding charcoal pictures hanging from every surface, an abandoned easel in the corner. He was an artist. I grabbed the phone on the wall and quickly dialled for an ambulance, once I knew they were on their way I released the catch on the door so they could get in and ran back to the man.

"Hey." I said, shaking his shoulders, trying to wake him up. I shook a little harder. "You need to wake up, you need to live." I tugged at his arms, willing him to look at me. "I need you to live."

His bleary eyes opened and blinked deliriously around the room, his eyes settling on me in shock and then wonder.

"Who are you?" He whispered in a slur... "Are you an angel?" his voice was weak and broken.

"Can you tell me your name?" I asked, but he didn't listen to me, only stared. I sighed, rubbing my head in frustration- how had I been too late?!

"Why did you do this to yourself?" I asked softly, stroking his arm this time, trying to bring him some comfort.

"I didn't think I would, I never do. I'm always such a coward." He sobbed, his eyes closing only to flicker back open when I shook his shoulders again.

"You have so much to live for!" I said. "Your art, It is beautiful."

"My art is my torture. Only I think It is beautiful." He squinted at me. "Am I imagining you? Are you a figment of my imagination?"

I smiled at him, realising the role I must play. "No, I am not a figment of your imagination. Just someone sent to watch over you. Your time Isn't up yet, you still have something to give this world."

His eyes grew round and wide like saucers, his mouth hanging open. "I don't believe anyone would want to look out for me, nothing good ever happens in my life." Tears rolled down his cheeks, and I softly wiped them away.

"Believe it." I whispered as I heard pounding on the front door, I smiled at him, and as the front door was swung open I knew I had to leave, or questions would start to be asked. It would be easier to fool this man into thinking I was a figment of his imagination that had just disappeared than answering the questions of the EMT's or jumping in front of them. I hoped Dagon approved of my choice.

I closed my eyes and pictured my own bathroom, and in a flurry of wind and weightlessness I Jumped, with the shouts from the EMT's in my ears as the bathroom door swung open.

It is a scientific fact, supported by data, that artists- whether painters, writers or dancers are prone to and have more mental health difficulties than the rest of the population. You can find more information about 'The Writer and Depression' over at official-visible