Nora huffed, briskly walking to the end of the alley before glancing back at her sister. It was dark, with only the dim street lights shedding weak beams into the passageway, but the Night Vision Skill gave her a clear picture; Fiona sat in the dirt, hugging herself with tears falling down her cheeks while her tiny frame quaked.

She’s crying, really? I’m the one that’s been invisible!

Only watching her sister for a moment, Nora turned away out of disgust. She followed the sidewalk; the anger flaring in her mind gradually faded, leaving her numb while prowling the night.

Her ears were stiff, listening to her sister’s soft sobs with a sick feeling of success; passing around the next corner, her soft voice began to fade. Few people ventured out this late at night since the small town shut down after nightfall.

All she could hear were business owners returning home or animals, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

A Fairy … of course, she’d be something cute and loved. How many of her followers are going crazy, spending all their time obsessing over her?

Oh, and this change has something to do with how we see ourselves? Then that’s how she sees herself, huh? A beautiful, elegant Fairy with magical powers, Fiona, right—while I’m a Slime that has to mimic anything I can find to feel something.

How is any of this fair? It’s not! I try so hard—I’ve gone on more dates than she ever has … tried to put myself out there, and still—still, it’s all about her in this stupid town!

Nora soon found herself at the Clifden community playground; she slowed, memories of spending time with her sister returning.

The chilling sea breeze gently flowed through the area, and she could smell the ocean scents; it was falling to seven degrees Celsius, the cool temperature helping to calm her turbulent emotions. She wasn’t cold with Iuchra’s Cold Resistance, but the knowledge made her shiver nonetheless.

Eyes closing, Nora could almost see her sister’s eight-year-old face, bright and cheerful, while allowing her to win at Tag.

Her golden-blonde hair whipped around as she tried shaking away the image, guilt touching her heart.

I’m losing my mind…

A soft sigh passed through her lips before she tamed her hair, moving on to the beach. Finding a grassy spot, she sat, looking down at the white sand and deep blue ocean waves

Her tail wrapped around as she leaned forward, arms linked around her legs while staring at the gentle water, trying to sort through the complicated mess in her chest.

I actually said all of that to Fiona … it wasn’t a lie, so why do I feel like it was, then? No … it’s more like I have three minds, pulling me in every direction.

Iuchra, whatever I am now, and … whatever’s left of me. How can I trust what I said was really me and not something else? What am I?

A tear fell down her cheek as a lump passed through her throat.

Fiona didn’t deserve that, but I just felt—I don’t know? I’m just so empty now.

Her mind shifted to Iuchra’s memories as they slowly unraveled; it would take months to fully incorporate her existence, but her instincts, and personality were absorbed first to allow her to mimic the girl.

Tucking her lower lip under, she took a shuddering breath, arms tightening around her knees.

Iuchra was so outgoing and had such a bright future. She could be mean and blunt if she felt someone deserved it, but there was a kindness and tenderness to her, too. So … why did I say all that to my sister? I haven’t seen her cry like that since we were kids.

The guilt creeping in was held at bay by fluctuating between Iuchra’s personality, herself, and something else hardly detectable. It was more noticeable when she’d first changed; now, she rarely thought about it.

I’m letting this change become me … I’ve turned more into a Slime than Nora—just let it keep going until I feel alright, but—there’s always a little more stress that makes me keep moving the bar over. When do I say stop?

I’m fine … but I’m not. I feel so empty, and if I just let it go a bit more … the weight will fall off my chest.

Happy moments with her mother filtered through—Iuchra’s mother, but it felt no different than how she felt about her own mother. No, Iuchra loved her mother more than she did, causing Nora’s frame to shake, nose burning.

I’m sorry, Mom … I’m so sorry…

The stress in her chest made her want to relent to the void that her Slime nature would bring, but she couldn’t let go; it was like an important thing was slipping through her fingers, and she was losing something indispensable.

Fiona’s pathetic? I’m pathetic … I feel nothing, or I’m reeling in pain—I want it to stop, but I can’t let go of it. I’m hiding in this skin like … how do I fix it? What would Iuchra do? I’m using her to keep me grounded, but for how long?

I took her in as my blood … the closest anyone’s been to my heart, but just like everything I love—you tear me apart. I’m not confident. I’m just biding my time. What can I do? What would she do…

Her tight body relaxed a little, blurry eyes opening with the revelation.

Sniffing away her tears, she wiped her cheeks, clearing her throat; Iuchra’s pain and rage enhanced her internal dilemma.

How could he … why?

The weight against her heart shifted to something she could contend with.

Nora rose to her feet, composing herself before walking up the bank to the road, knowing exactly where she should go.

Stretching out her chest, back, and limbs, Nora ran.

Nora paced herself, knowing it would be a long run to Roundstone.

She stopped off at a few roadside ponds, using her Slime abilities to absorb the maximum water her transformation allowed to cool down and replenish the resources her Beastkin form needed. The animals still being dissolved in her stomach handled other nutrients.

The ease of returning to Iuchra’s body from her Slime state was becoming easier, and now she could even keep her clothes in a storage area that was slowly expanding inside her.

It took her forty-five minutes to reach the village, the place Iuchra was born. Doubt was creeping in the closer she got to Iuchra’s house.

What am I doing here? I’m confronting Finghin—it’s what Iuchra would do if she came back to life, but how does this help me? No … I can’t—what do I say to her parents?

The pull in her chest made her pause, gritting her teeth while leaning against one of the old concrete walls lining the road. She’d passed a few people on the road or within the town, but she’d been moving too quickly for them to notice her in the dark, or minded their own business.

Staring out at the dock and green, earthy shore, Nora growled; it turned into a moan, gripping her left arm while debating her constantly shifting emotions.

No … I can’t. A dead girl comes back to life and accuses a beloved member of the family of murdering them—what kind of fiction is that?

Nora’s stomach cramped as she resisted Iuchra’s instinctual need to confront the betrayal of a man that was like her uncle. She felt muddy, guilt returning with the shifting slider that brought her back to Nora’s personality.

Iuchra doesn’t care about Fiona … which means I can express every hurtful thing I’ve wanted to say all my life, but she wants to do something I can’t go through with. The way Iuchra would have dealt with Fiona if we were in the same place, though—it was too cruel … I can’t handle it.

I can’t go back … I can’t go forward … where can I go?

The hole opening in her chest hurt worse than before, causing her chest to spasm, tears coming to her eyes. Sliding down the stone wall to her butt, Nora buried her face in her arms as she cried.

Fiona came home … she looked for me, worried about me—and I ripped her apart. What have I become? This isn’t me—is it?

“I don’t like me—how can I still hate myself?” She sobbed.

“Dear—are you alright?”

Nora stiffened, ears rising as an elderly woman came out of a nearby business, likely working late for some reason.

“Wait—what are you wearing? Are you in trouble?” The woman asked, glancing up and down the street with a concerned look on her wrinkled face.

Iuchra knew the woman, Blinne Ní Suaird; her name popping into her mind with rudimentary information.

“Ms. Suaird,” Nora whispered, sniffing back her tears.

Blinne looked taken aback. “Oh, do I know you?”

Trying to give her a fake smile, Nora shook her head but soon broke into tears as she drowned in her guilt.

“Dear…” Blinne moved forward, grunting with effort while getting on her knees to hug her. “Hey, talk to me. How can I—my, you’re so cold and wet! Please, Dearie, come inside, and I’ll get you something warm to drink.”

Nora coughed, unable to respond with the mixed emotions flooding her mind, and the elderly woman helped her up, guiding her into the business.

It looked like a bed and breakfast; she guided her to an already lit fireplace. The furniture was well used and cleaned, and the room was designed around sitting down to have a warm discussion.

Blinne hurried to an Iris quilt, folded atop a couch before returning with it to wrap around her. “Here—let me get you a … oh, Dear—are you one of those changed people I’ve been hearing about in London?”

Coughing again with a short hiccup, Nora sniffed, trying to compose herself with little success. “Y-Yes—my name’s Nora … thank you,” she whispered.

“Of course, of course,” she replied, bustling to nab a box of tissues. “I have some—tissues … here.”

Accepting the offer, Nora blew her nose, rubbing her cheeks. “Why did this happen to me?”

The elderly woman got on the floor with some difficulty, taking care with her knees before sitting beside her. Blinne rubbed Nora’s shoulder while pulling her into her breasts to help warm her up. “My—you’re so cold and wet … what happened?”

Nora tightened her grip on the quilt, muscles relaxing while resting against the woman’s warm body, comforted by her touch. “How could I turn into this—this monster?”

“You don’t look like a monster!” Blinne protested, fingers tightening around her arm. “You’re pretty…”

Nora felt a bitter chuckle shake her stomach. “Pretty … I’m so ugly—I’m horrible!”

“How could you say that? Did someone tell you that—did your family kick you out? It’s horrible—some of those stories I hear.”

“You wouldn’t—say that if you really saw what—what I was…” Nora mumbled between quakes and hiccups.

“Really saw you…” Blinne whispered, guiding her head to her chest. “All I see is a tortured teenage-girl, trying to survive something horrible that’s happened to her … I’m here for you.”

“A monster like me?”

“You’re not a monster.”

“I am!” Nora yelled, pulling away to glaring at her. “See—look at me—the real me!”

The world darkened as she dissolved into a Slime, clothes disappearing into her storage with the transformation. Spreading out, guilt seeped into every inch of her unformed body, and her encounter with Fiona returned, flooding her thoughts.

I broke my sister … I’m the worst sister in the world! Fiona just wanted to help me—save me, and I destroyed her. I can’t live like this…

After a minute, she returned to her Beastkin shape; her clothes melded into their proper places, and she looked for the hatred, fear, and disgust in the elderly woman’s face she knew she deserved.

All Nora saw was deep concern as Blinne rushed back into the room with a dustpan and bucket. “Wait—no, no, Nora, don’t die—why are you turning into—Nora? Nora, you’re okay? Nora—ah…”

Blinne stammered and tripped on the rug in her rush, dustpan and bucket leaving her hands as her arms flailed. Nora’s mouth dropped open, watching the elderly woman fall toward the sharp edge of a table.

“No!”

Time slowed as she lurched forward, using her body to cushion Blinne; the weight that hit her forced the air out of her lungs. She couldn’t feel pain but winced out of reflex as they hit the rug, the elderly woman on top of her.

Both coughing, they struggled to their hands and knees; it was the first time Nora realized while mimicking something, she had many weaknesses that her Slime form did not.

“A-Are you—okay?” Nora gasped, trying to fill her lungs again.

“I—I’m fine,” Blinne gasped. “Wait—no, are you okay? You just—you turned to water! I tried getting a bucket and—and anything that I could try to keep you together…”

“No,” Nora growled, making the woman’s muscles tighten at her cat-like noises. “I’m a Slime!” She yelled, leaning back to glare at her stomach. “I feel wet and cold because I’m not this—I don’t really look like this; I’m a glob of water that eats things and takes on their shape.”

Blinne’s arms started shaking as it grew difficult to support herself, and she shifted to her butt. “Slime … I don’t understand—what are you saying—things you eat? Are…”

She paused, confused blue eyes sliding down her body while working through her words.

“You—ate that girl, to—to look like her?” She asked with growing horror.

“Well—she was already dead—but yes, yes I did. See? I’m a monster!”

A lump dropped down Blinne’s throat, a hand clenched at her chest, but her tension slowly dissipated. “She was already dead?” She whispered, vision falling to the floor. “So—you didn’t kill her?”

Hot frustration rolled through her stomach and chest, reaching Nora’s face. “Does it matter if I didn’t kill her? I ate her!” Looking for any word in her vocabulary, she shouted, “I’m a cannibal—filthy—evil—insane—hungry monster that—I tore my sister apart! She tried to help me, and I told her it was all her fault—leaving her to cry after I blamed her for everything!”

Nora sobbed, folding down her ears. “I left my parents to worry about me—I betrayed everyone I love, and I don’t know if I’ll eat them if I go back—why did this happen to me? If I’m hungry, I can’t think—I just eat … I’m a monster—a demon…”

She stiffened between hiccups as Blinne’s arms wrapped around her; the woman’s weight forced her to the floor as she embraced her.

“W-What are you doing? I could eat you! Get off…”

“You’re in pain,” Blinne sniffed. “I can hear it—so much pain.”

Nora’s shaking arms rose, slowly closing around the elderly woman, chest burning as her emotions bubbling over. “I’ve been lying—I’ve been saying I’m fine—I’m not—I feel empty inside … I’m not fine. I want help … but—I hurt Fi—my sister. Why’d I do that? I can’t trust myself … I don’t want this … this life’s mine, not this Slime’s—I hate this … the pain—my chest hurts so much. I’m so sorry, Mom … I want my Daddy. I’m losing my mind.”

“It’ll be okay—I’m here … I’m here.”

Blinne cried with her.

The woman held her until her tears ran out, and she relaxed, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression. Sniffing, Nora took a deep breath. “What should I do? Every time I try to think about it, I get so stressed, or I feel nothing at all—I’m so broken.”

“Talk to me,” Blinne whispered. “Tell me about your sister.”

Coughing a short laugh, Nora applied a little pressure to tell the woman she was getting up; they scooted to the back of a couch, and a small, fake smile lifted Nora’s lips. “Fi … she was always the star of Clifden. She’s pretty, outgoing, and can talk to people without a problem—plus she’s got a good voice and is really good at teaching Gaelic.”

Pulling her blonde, gradient black hair out of her face, she fiddled with her thumbs, still trying to calm the turbulent emotions in her chest. “She’s always so nice—probably never swore in her life, and super smart.”

“She sounds pretty perfect,” Blinne evenly replied. “You idolize her?”

“How couldn’t I,” Nora weakly shrugged. “Fiona’s the golden child—she even moved to the U.S. with all her supporters, and she makes a lot of money.”

“But?”

“But what?” Nora asked, refusing to raise her eyes while rubbing her left arm.

“You aren’t saying everything,” Blinne prodded. “Is there something that bothers you about your sister?”

“No … not at all…” Nora softly protested. Swallowing, she took a few deep breaths. “No … I’m the issue—or everyone else is. My whole life, I’ve been living in her shadow…”

“Hmm … and there’s no way you could compete?”

“Never … she always wins—and if I win, then—then it’s because she let me. Every boy I’ve dated just talk about her—it’s like they’re using me to just feel a bit closer to her, and—it just never really felt like my life … I’m invisible.”

Blinne reached over to hold her hand. “That’s horrible. No one should feel like that.”

“I can’t blame Fiona, though,” Nora mumbled, “even though I did … I hurt her so much—I don’t think I’ve ever seen her break down so much.”

“She’ll forgive you.”

Nora shook her head. “Of course she would … I can’t…”

Blinne slapped their linked hands, startling Nora. The elderly woman had a stern expression. “You’re just trying to punish yourself, but you’re only hurting those that love you! Is hurting yourself worth the pain it would cause them?”

“I—I never thought about it like that,” Nora mumbled, yellow irises falling to her lap. “No—it wouldn’t be fair to them, but—all the things I feel … a part of me still blames Fiona—my parents—even if I say I don’t … it’s a lie.”

“Of course,” Blinne gave her a compassionate smile. “Those feelings won’t just vanish; you’ve been holding them in for years, but now that you’ve told your sister, there’s time to heal.”

Doubt crept into Nora’s voice. “How could I ever heal? I’m so broken.”

“Dearie,” her fingers tightened around Nora’s, lifting their hands to Nora’s chest. “You’re not perfect, are you?”

“No…”

“Whatever you’ve done before, accept it and let it go. None of us are perfect, including your amazing sister; we’re all capable of making mistakes.”

“Maybe if I was human,” Nora mumbled, Blinne’s elderly strength failing to keep her limp hand against her chest, they fell to Nora’s lap.

“Mhm-uh—no, Nora,” she whispered, shifting to show her concerned blue eyes. “Stop hiding from the shadows inside your heart; don’t be trapped by those shattered memories. Let the light pass through and free you. Forgive yourself because it’s the only way to start again.”

“What if—I don’t want to start again…”

“Then, things can only get worse. Do you want to feel more pain?”

Nora’s gut tightened, nose burning again. “No…” Her voice cracked.

“Then be patient with yourself, Nora—accept this new you that can bring so many wonderful things to the world, and learn how to move forward with your loved ones—not without them.” Blinne smiled. “Can we start here?”

Nora couldn’t answer, vision unfocused as her question rolled around her head. “I—don’t know if I can face Fiona alone … not after what I did to her.”

Blinne licked her lips, grunting while trying to get to her feet, but her attempt ended in failure. Chuckling sheepishly, she gave her a weak smile. “Mind helping this old lady up, and then we can call your home and set it up. I’ll be here to support you.”

Some of the darkness clouding her mind lifted. “Why?”

The elderly woman giggled. “Everyone needs someone in their corner, and if you don’t have one, then I’m more than willing. I heard sobbing outside, and I found a broken girl—I was that broken girl at one point … and someone was there for me. Helping one person might not change the world, but it could change the world for one person.”

Fighting back the tears threatening her eyes, Nora reached over to embrace the stranger that had brought her into her home when she’d been at her lowest.

“Thank you…” She whispered, feeling her head break past the ocean of depression she’d been drowning in. “Thank you.”

Blinne rubbed her back soothingly. “There, there, dearie … let’s get everything out before I drive you home—oh, it’s pretty cold out there. Would you like a cup of hot cocoa before we hit the road?”

Nora swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling warmer than she’d felt in a long time, but all she could do was mumble, “Yeah…”