Sometimes the fear is choking; sometimes it is nonexistant. Sometimes, we have no idea who is standing where, and that just sucks.

---(A few for everyone)---
I think I'm dying, but that just seems blasphemous, somehow. I would've asked, but only he ever answered my questions, and I think he's dead too. Somehow, that seems even worse. We weren't supposed to die, after all. But I suppose its better this way. Who needs immortality when it's this empty?

Oddly enough, that feels the most blasphemous of all.

She found them in the library, slumped over their books and snoring in unison. One could almost believe they were brothers, twins even, despite their mismatched colors. She wondered, if they woke up and glanced at each other, would they be confused at the colors in the mirror? Or would green and silver, brown and gold seem commonplace to them?

She watched them sleeping a while longer, before carefully easing their books out from under their slack jawed faces. They did not so much as stir, and her cloak was large enough to cover them both.

She would see them again in the morning.
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Woo, obscurity. I love being vague like that.