I told them how I would take runs out to the cliff. After every battle I came back from, left me stressed and in need of a release. Whenever I got close with someone, one I thought I could hopefully count on, they died. So, I started to isolate myself and the cliff became my safe haven. When soldiers first arrive, they are told never to go out there. When we do PT, we don't even run on the beach that far out. Fear that the cliff would give way. I just got pinned corporal and had been going out there for two years. Never thought that would happen to me. I was wrong.

It was like any other day on the island. The wind was picking up more than usual, but it didn't stop me. We had just come back from a disaster of a mission. The Decepticons got away and everyone was pissed. All the higher ups seemed to take it out on us lower enlisted. None of us had slept in over 72 hours. Somehow I couldn't sleep, so I went on a run at 0500. No one was around except for duty and the dead laid in their metal caskets. No one even knew I left.

I sprinted out to the cliff. Not caring about my burning lungs or the sweat dripping down my face and body. I was hot despite the cool ocean breeze. My feet kept moving until my hands stopped me as they hit the coconut tree that sits at the edge of the cliff. My chest heaved, pulling in as much oxygen as my lungs would allow. I brushed the sweat from my brow and let my hand slide off the trunk, taking a step closer to the edge. Something I always did not thinking anything of it. Unfortunately for me, it would be the time I should have been smarter. A large gust of wind hit me and the cliff. The ground gave way below me and I started falling. I'm not even sure I had a chance to scream.

The world went black. I don't even remember landing. I'm sure when I hit the sand it muffled the sound. I just remember waking up and looking up at the brightened sky. The sun was up higher, meaning I had been there for a while. It felt like I was laying there forever when I finally got up. I felt lighter as I forced myself up. Surprisingly, nothing hurt. I felt as if I had just woken up. More refreshed, if that was possible. My mind was fuzzy, but everything cleared up as soon as I turned around. There behind me, in the spot where I landed, was me.

The sand grounded into my knees when I fell to them. My jaw dropping as I stared at my twisted neck. My body made a dent on the beach. The tide slowly washing up closer along the shore. I felt frozen. I couldn't move. There in front of me lay my body, but I felt alive. Well, almost. After a moment, the shock settling, I crawled my way over to it. My hand moved without me trying and when I tried to place my hand on my body, it went right through it. A gasp left my throat. I tried over and over to grab my arm, but nothing happened. I ended up sitting back on my heels, staring at my hand. It looked solid; it looked normal. So did my other hand. What was happening to me?

I don't remember how long I sat, staring at my lifeless husk. A part of me was worried someone might come looking for me. It was getting late. The sun was falling into the ocean. I hastily brushed sand over myself before I began sprinting back to base. It wasn't until I was halfway down the beach; I realized I wasn't feeling breathless. My lungs weren't burning. My legs weren't aching. I couldn't feel any pain. I slow to a walk, then eventually to a stop. My mind was racing. Questions flashed over and over in my mind. What is wrong with me? Being one of them.

The slowly setting sun washed over me as I stood, trying to make a sense of this situation. There is only one answer, but I wasn't ready to accept that answer. In my mind at that moment, I was hallucinating. I hit my head hard and was imagining seeing myself laying in the sand. The cliff gave way, I fell, somehow survived, but I had begun to hallucinate. There was no reason for me to keep standing there, yet I couldn't get my feet to move. At that moment, I wanted to go back to my barracks room and crawl under my covers and fall asleep. My eyes squeezed shut as I wished to be anywhere but on the beach.

When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in my room. It took everything in me not to scream. My hands slapped over my mouth, holding in any kind of noise I could make. I looked around the room, trying to figure out how I got there. I was on the beach one second, the next in my barracks room. Nothing was making sense. I was more confused than ever. My eyes moved back and forth quickly, trying to reel in my surroundings. Then, as the shaking slowly stopped, and I gained some bearing, I rushed to the head.

My eyes could barely focus on myself in the mirror. I felt like I was looking at a ghost. It was me, but it felt unreal. When my hand moved, it moved in the mirror. It had to be me. Why did everything feel wrong? I could somehow turn the water on, then let it warm up. Then I cupped my hands and tried to gather the water, but it only rained through. I moved my hands apart, then back together, trying again. The water went straight through, like my hands weren't even there. My jaw dropped; my eyes were wide as I stared down at my hands. The more I tried to do, the less I find out I can. So far all I can do that is normal is walk/run. I backed away from the sink, still staring at my dry hands. I tried to turn off the faucet, but this time it took me a few tries to grip the handle.

I slowly walked back over to my rack. More and more questions sprouted into my mind. Why could I turn on the water, but not use the water? Why did it take so long to grip the handle? Why could I tough the facet but not my body? I must be hallucinating. But then why did the water run right through me? So many questions and no answers. I was so wrapped up with the problem at hand that I didn't realize I had walked through my rack. This time, I let out a small shriek and jumped back. I stood there, paralyzed with fear. I tried to take a deep breath, but my body, or whatever I was, only did the motions. This made me freak out more.

I paced. I'm not sure how long before I realized my shoes weren't making any sounds against the tile floor. Taking a few more steps, focusing on my feet, I concurred they were silent. The entire room was silent. Not even an echo when I tried to stomp my foot. Then I tried to clap my hands, not a peep, but at least I could hit them together. It didn't hurt either. I would come to miss pain. There became so many things I miss. As the sun started setting that day, I figured a good night's rest would solve things. Hopefully, I would wake up and this nightmare would be over. I looked over to my rack, realizing that I can't lay on it. Thus, making me freaked out and frustrated all over again.

Instead of trying to sleep, I spent the complete night trying to grip a water bottle I had on my desk. I couldn't sit down or move the chair back. So, I stood in it and focused all my energy on grabbing the bottle. It wasn't until the early morning that I finally had success. Besides my grunts and groans throughout the night, my cheer radiated around the room. I held on tightly to the bottle and danced about the room. The first good feeling I had all night. After celebrating, I tried to grab something bigger. Concentrating as hard as I could, I grabbed the chair and could pull it towards me. My cheeks would have hurt if I could feel anything.

Time for my shift was getting closer, and the smile on my face was replaced with a frown. Dread was slowly consuming me. There was no way I could hide my new condition. How would I be able to master everything to seem normal in the two hours I had left? It took me hours to master holding a water bottle. Trying to hand on to something was one thing, but wearing gear and shooting a weapon was another. Though, we had just gotten back from a mission yesterday. Today would be more about briefs, reports, and cleaning our weapons. Could I hold it all together for that? But the other problem...What if someone touched me?

There was no way I couldn't show up for duty. Someone would for sure come for me then. My weapon was filthy from firing it and the battle. Even I couldn't let it sit like that. The Armorers would skin me alive if I did. So, I spent my last two hours working on staying solid as well as gripping anything. I was able to get my uniform on. The buttons being the hardest part. It surprised me when my uniform didn't fall right through me after I relaxed a little. My skivvies never fell off. It was also a struggle to get the sand out of my hair. I hoped I didn't look too disheveled. I was just happy no one questioned me when I finally showed up.

Getting through that first day was a struggle. I got a funny look from the armorer when I handed my rifle over with shaky hands. Luckily, no one touched more or needed me to do any heavy lifting. It was an accomplishment I was able to remain in my seat during the briefing. As soon as I got back to my barracks room. I changed to go on a run. There was still time before the sun set and I needed answers. I left through the hangar, praying no one would stop me. As soon as I hit the gravel, I started sprinting to the beach. The place I wanted to be wasn't on top of the cliff this time.

The sun was gleaming against the pile of sand as I ran up to it. I slid to a stop, sending the tiny rocks into the air. The mound was still there. My heart dropped. I had been praying all day that it wasn't real. With slow steps, I approached it. The wind had blown some sand away, making parts of my face visible. The tiny grains lined the indent of my lips. My nose pointed towards the ocean. I shuddered at the sight. Carefully, I wiped away the sand, revealing my face. I looked asleep. Like I could wake up at any moment. But I was awake, looking at myself. It was something that would take a while for me to understand.

Every day for a month, I went out there after work. When I wasn't begging myself to wake up, I was working on honing my new skills. Everything changed overnight, and I struggled to understand. As I did training, I realized more that I had to hide. I became angry, frustrated. Towards the end of the first month, I was screaming at myself. I wailed loud enough to scare the birds from their spot in the trees.

I was lucky that there were no missions, but by the third month, the alarms blared. I got ready like everyone else. There was no way for me to know what would happen. At that point, I had already been isolating myself from everyone. I got on the Osprey with everyone else. Ratchet, Ironhide, Skids and Mudflap were in the middle in vehicle mode. I was sitting towards the end, between two guys in my squad. The runway was pronounced clear, and the Osprey began to move. I never had time to react. Once the Osprey was in the air, I was lying on the sand on the beach, watching it head towards the south. All my gear and weapon were surprisingly with me.

At that point, I had finally figured out the teleporting. I hadn't mastered it yet, but I had the concept down. I was able to jump back to my room. Then I rushed out to make it look like I was too late. It was stupid, but it was the only way I could think of to not have anyone realize what was wrong with me. Because I had missed the flight, I was put on a computer. I used to mess around with computers when I was in high school, so I picked up everything quickly. I did good work while everyone was on the mission but got a reaming once they got back. It was then I asked if I could switch jobs. It turns out one of the new guys that joined wanted my job, so we were able to switch.

After that, I realized I would always be like this. I realized I was dead and still tethered to my body. But I still had so many questions. Some that are still unanswered. I'm not sure if I will ever get the answers. The next day after that mission, I went down to the beach. My body still looked like I was only sleeping. It had been three months, but it still looked alive. But I was done waiting for my eyes to open. So, I dug a deep hole in the sand. As deep as I could go before the water would seep in. It was the first time and the last time I would see my entire body. I eased myself into the hole. Laying my hands over my stomach and keeping my feet together. Then I slowly filled in the hole. I padded down the burial site and found a bunch of rocks to make a marker. Anyone would just see them as a pile of rocks, but to me, it was my grave.