“There are eight planets in the solar system, and I’m stuck on the only one that’s not out of this world.” – From Jesse in Missed Conversations, Vol 1

Ellie was alone. She had always been alone. The fact that she lived in one of the densest prefectures of one of the densest cities on the planet, did not hinder this realization for her. In fact, if it weren’t for the crush of people on this train - breathing on her, rubbing against her - she might just have been able to pretend like she wasn’t a board-certified pariah, at least until the next stop came. But rush hour was rush hour and her eyes, which so unnerved any who stared into them, had already started to glow.

It began with the usual chorus of murmurs, travelling outwards from those nearest her.

‘A gifted.’ They said. ‘A freak.’ They meant. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine a world inhabited by giant grateful moths. Then, with a start, she opened them again. Maybe this isn’t so bad, she thought.

They only ever glowed when she was near lots of people, for reasons she’d yet to ascertain. It wasn’t like she could do anything special with them – heck, they didn’t even help her to see better. Ellie sighed and turned her gaze over to the window, watching the parade of houses fall listlessly behind.

“There’s going to be trouble.” A voice said. Ellie followed it, finding a boy around her age, relaxing in the seat directly opposite her. Had he always been there? She wondered. He held Ellie’s gaze, which was highly unusual in and of itself, and gave her a disturbingly warm smile. He had dark hair, tousled and thrown over one of his eyes, as if to draw attention to the other – which seemed of a different, wilder shade. The boy continued, his every word unnerving her. “But don’t worry.” He said. “I have it under control.”

She didn’t know what to say. The boy was clearly confused. So she shirked his gaze, as was the protocol for dealing with crazies, and returned her attention to the world outside. It had started to rain, she noticed, the window shimmering as if it too were of water. The world became soft, muted and full of shadows – and her bright eyes stood with them, never managing to break their grip and always shining, like jewel companions to the night. The wind whipped the rain into a deluge, and she planted her face against the window-pane, feeling the storm’s drumbeat. Then, noticing something strange, she furrowed her brow and pulled away from the window. It wasn’t the morphed scene outside – for little could be determined in the blur of shapes. No, it was something about the flow of the water. And then, in the space between heartbeats, she realized what it was that so concerned her – the water was flowing upwards.

She turned, casting a questioning glance to the boy opposite her. When she found his seat, however, the boy was nowhere to be seen. She was about to ask if anyone around her had seen him go, when a shudder rocked the carriage. Everything and everyone went suddenly quite silent. They were still moving along, but the whine of the metal wheels on the track could no longer be heard or felt. Just as someone was about to talk, the train lurched suddenly forward. Ellie found herself reeling, part of an unintelligible whole – the lights in her carriage cut out and the world started to keel over – slowly into nothingness.

A few memories survived from that point. A loud, thunderous groan as something huge and made of metal started to break apart. Faces cast in fearful relief one moment and then lost to the all-consuming shade the next, like light hitting a fan. A feeling of being dropped – which over-shone all other vectors and senses. And, as the only shred of sense – knitting together all those other memories and thoughts – a pain through her chest and the flashes of sight, painting for her a picture of something bright and metallic erupting from her flesh. The cold. The stillness, as if everything were piling up, hoping to break this precipice and send her on to something else. She was going to die. Then, finally, the boy’s eyes returned to her. Warmth touched her hand. His eyes in hers, and in that moment, one became another, and one became nothing.

***

She awoke, feeling the press of covers wrapped around her form. Somewhere in her mind warning bells were being rung, but it was too early for such noise and so she managed to nuzzle her way back into her dreams. A young boy, whom she quite liked, was trying to catch her attention. She kept getting angry with herself for stringing him along, but string him along she must – for that was the dream. Light was pouring in, somewhere far off, and in her mind she began to follow it, up and up she travelled through the layers of sleep and into--

An unfamiliar but utterly ignorable set of shapes greeted her bleary eyes. Ellie dragged the covers off her weary body, fingers fumbling, and sat up. Her head felt like an anvil, heavy and hammered upon, but she stood up nonetheless – ever the soldier. That’s odd, she thought, feeling somehow much taller and more gangly than before. Wiping away some of the sleep from her eyes she took a step towards what she had passingly assessed to be a mirror – and fell flat on her face. That’s very odd. She thought again, as the pain and utter exhaustion threatened to throw her back into a world of sleep. Not exactly where I expected my feet to be, she guessed, pulling herself into a crouch and subconsciously rearranging her scrotum so that it wouldn’t-

Ellie paused, hand frozen mid-act, and looked falteringly down at the dreaded nightmare between her legs. Her mind weaved past a number of explanations for what she was seeing; some hypothetical situations unfolding like skits in her mind: a doctor claiming that he’d originally mistaken her for an unfortunately unendowed young man, a whirling newsreel reporting the case of a misogynistic genital thief still at-large. All so very unlikely.

She gave a short, sharp laugh, thought the word: yikes, and then passed out on the floor.