Crow’s in her corner.

I can’t see her.

Only hear her.

‘You must become a dead girl. A not-feeling girl.’

She giggles.

‘We have no claws or wings or bite.’

More giggling.

‘No one gets away!’

She laughs so hard she falls onto the floor.

Laughing off lies.

I wish I could get rid of my grey that way.

I can’t. I’ve got to name.

Catch.

Fight.

My grey fights back.

But people can time travel inside their heads.

I catch a piece of grey: fear. And I remember.

The playground at school.

That bully Billy King, stalking towards little Josie Lewis.

Me, stepping into his way.

Courage eats fear.

The Feed’s handprint on my stomach disappears.

I move to the next stain on my skin.

This time I go forward.

Crow and me on the beach.

She pushes me into the surf.

I grab hold of her. We tumble, laughing, into the waves.

Joy eats sadness.

Trails made by tears on my face and neck fade to nothing.

There’s no way to know how long this is taking.

We’ve got no sun.

No moon.

No ticking clocks.

Just choices.

They measure the distance between who we are and who we’re turning into.

Except it’s the same choice, made again and again.

Choose the opposite of grey.

It takes forever.

It takes a moment.