That was how badly I pictured this kind of hurt. 

On the bright side, at least this was a sign I regained some sense of awareness. I couldn’t be sure if this meant I was conscious… Not in a natural way. For all I knew, I could’ve been waking up in that frozen level of Hell. I wouldn’t mind chilling out with the ice giant if it meant reducing the feverish degree I was at.

...Like I really expected this inhospitably Hellish world to have anything good to offer. Even the demonic residents wanted nothing more than to give my fucked up life a swell time while here.

Sadly, that would be more believable than if I were to awaken in the company of those concerned over my wellbeing. What had been more sorrowful was that I could have counted on one hand those who cared about me.

Other than my missing dad, the Boyd family was all I had now -- a really confused Mike would be a stretch to include him. I saw him as just doing his duty as an officer.

My opinion was low on anyone else was giving two-shits what happened to me.

But there were a few at school that went out of their way for me. I wouldn’t know if doing what they did to have finally silenced those rumors was a difficult task or not. Their popularity would’ve made the task that much easier.

Except now there was a new image for the rotten student named Clint; a crossdresser. I supposed that was half true. I visited the school with a mind still set on me being a boy, but that night…

When I thought about that night, I wondered, ‘Was that my lowest point?’ I had tried to commit suicide that day and night.

That demon, Grandma Satan, not only made it crystal clear she called the shots, such as on when I could drop dead, but also how I would live the rest of my life… That was, if I had an end.

This concept still had me confused, but I didn’t let it rest and wondered, ‘What does it mean to exist?’ I had thought it meant being here and living, but that wasn’t how these demons talked about it.

...Not sure, but if I had anything to go by how Kris would’ve schooled me, I had quite clearly remembered the conclusion of Mrs. Pureview’s last attempted escape. Despite how I hated my late teacher’s guts, my own were wrenched out of me by that horrific sight of her. I still had a hard time believing she’d sacrificed herself to protect me, but she did.

Truly thinking about it, I wouldn’t step a foot near someone who was talking to themselves, and I could claim that was close to what Grandma had been doing. I took the time to consider how much progress I had made to reaching consciousness, and I wasn’t coming far along. With just the pain and sporadic noise that told me I had a couple of senses back, I wouldn’t count myself out of this weird state of practically being disembodied. So back to my view of the crazy demon lady talking to herself, I had a valid excuse when I currently lacked the capability to respond.

With me trying not to fully focus on this pain, I didn’t have the mental capacity to take in everything. So there was a huge probability I had been missing out on some other demon popping in my head.

This was Grandma’s legitimate kid, which, to me, didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Further and further, I fell into a state of confusion. I had thought, ‘Isn’t the fiery daughter hers?’ I could’ve sworn Laurel was tagged as a wild daughter too.

She could read my mind, so I wondered, ‘If she can do that, why am I being asked?’ Rather than handling a questionnaire over how everything worked here, I preferred she’d listen to my pleas over my dad, Adam, and myself.

Then there was a tiny issue that I still wasn’t certain which version of Grandma this was. But given a reviewed consideration on how our one-and-a-half way conversation had been held, I leaned towards this being the real deal. I was hinted at the constant reminder of my ‘dull’ nature.

Grandma had a major superiority complex, but I found on more than one occasion that she knew when to dial things back with me. Not much to go by a moral compass, but with me, that was a bit of a good direction. If anything was good about her shadow, I had comprehended more of what was coming out of that wicked smiley face. But that would be about it.

...No idea why I was searching for anything virtuous in them. I wondered, ‘Maybe I’m desperate?’ I wanted someone to help me, but the kind that these demons offered weren’t pleasant experiences.

If I could choose someone to save me, I wanted Helen.

Whenever the stress became too much for me and I had broken down or fell ill, she’d been the only one to truly calm me down. And she went above and beyond in accepting me for who and what I was becoming.

Dad had never gone that far. But then again, I never really got sick. That might’ve been due to being fed my vitamins. And if I had a problem, I was either tossed a bottle of medicine for that ache or, if it were daytime, told to simply work it out of my system, but at night, I slept it off.

Not once had I been comforted and watched over by Dad as I had been by Adam’s mom. I had to admit that this made me envious of the life I missed out on if my mom lived.

Now I felt a far too dense and weighty object in me, trying to fall out and away, and in a very strange way, I was being pulled with it. Just like everything else revolving around me, I could make very little sense of it.

There was barely time for me to theorize what this out of body experience had been before I felt the drop. That was how I interpreted this sensation of falling down someplace incredibly fathomless.