Nothing is forever.

Not the prettiest flower.

Not the strongest diamond.

Not the strongest hate, the purest love.

Not the evillest deed, nor the kindest.

We do everything with impermanence, hoping to make a difference, and it does, but only for a time.

Everything will fade away.

Nothing is immortal.

“I am who I am after all, but a child, pleas’d with the sound of my own name? Repeating it over and over; I stand apart to hear- it never tires me.” These words from Walt Whitman always struck a cord with me. I always made the words my own, curling up into them like a blanket on a long, cold night. I believe it’s because I chose my own name; my own identity, that it resonated with me as much as it does. I have always been an outcast from everyone else, never quite fitting- not fitting the gender binary, being bisexual, and something far beyond that. I am not the only one who occupies my mind. Many spirits live with me, guiding me, supporting me. I am there host, they cannot harm me. I am in control.

"Afra!"

I heard my name, presumably called by my father.

"Time to get ready for bed!"

Now was NOT a good time.

"Just a minute!" I yelled back at him, focusing hard. My mission was to save a soul caught in the void between life and death, a soul who had requested harborage in a human's mind. Even after years of doing it, it was tedious and dangerous work.

"How are you doing?" I called to Molina, who was an angel and taking charge of bringing the soul back from the void, while I anchored her, making sure her spirit didn't get caught in the void.

"Almost got 'em!" she replied, voice clear and enthusiastic as always.

"Coming back now!!"

"Roger that!" I replied, helping her back into my mind. For a human, I had exceptionally strong psychic abilities, a hosted something known as a 'soul harbor'- a safe place for all souls, as long as they followed my rules and regulations.

"AFRA! NOW!"

My father's voice yelled, calling me into the physical present.

"Coming!" I called, and hurried up stairs to brush my teeth.