“What is going on,” I ask in the speakthink way I have to talk in here.

The Girl steps out from the darkness, into my line of vision.
Her face is calm, but her eyes betray her. It’s not an evil look, exactly…but it’s not a look that provides comfort, either.

“You’re dead”.

Her voice is smooth. Sultry, even.
Doesn’t stop the fact she’s just told me I’m DEAD.

“How can I be? And even if I was, how am I talking?”

None of this makes any fucking sense. But it’s not a private thought – she hears it, and the corner of her lips curve into a smirk.

“This is the Inbetween, as I call it. This is where you come when you’re not exactly alive anymore…but not exactly dead, either.”

“So this is Limbo? Why am I tied up? Who are you? Why are you always lurking around?!”

My inability to differentiate between speakthinking and thinking proper is driving me mad.

“So many questions. Problem is, the answers will lead to further questions, and then we’ll never get to where we need to go…”