It isn't too long after seeing his slashed open wrist that Luca fades back into the cold clutches of unconsciousness once more. The cold dirt road felt like the most comfortable place to be at the moment. Even while conscious, he couldn't move his legs. Something was wrong with him, and it wasn't the wrist.

The transparent Nari returned to his sight once more. In his state, he could stand. His legs were working properly. Nari wasn't alone however, as Luca soon realized.

Behind him was everyone. Kyle, Victoria, Jonny, his dad, his cousin Paulo. Everyone.

Everyone he knew who was dead.

"Luca, do you know why we all gathered here today?"

"Because I'm hallucinating?"

Kyle: "No Luca, we care about you."

"Look, I don't need the fucking intervention lecture. I'm not the one who was dumb enough to let Heiman tell him what to do. I didn't fake my friends deaths and then not even tell the only other one about it. It wasn't me who joined back up with Heiman AFTER someone went to the trouble of faking my fucking death. My mind never contemplated stealing a fucking hoodrat's girlfriend!

I didn't come after me with a damn knife.

I sure as FUCK would never go to jail for that spineless prick.

I'm not dead.

You are!

I'm doing something right!'

Victoria: "Luca-"

"Don't you fucking 'Luca' me! In the last days of your life, you were setting me up. You wanted me dead! You don't have the right to act like it never happened!"

Jonny: "Calm down man, this isn't a fucking intervention thing. We know how guilty you feel about all of this. It isn't our plan to make you even worse off! We just want you to know that you're forgiven-"

"For what?! As far as I'm concerned, each one of your fucking deaths was on YOU! Not me, not the guy who tried to stop everything from happening. I'm not guilty."

"Then why try to kill yourself?"

"What, I have to be thinking that I'm guilty to kill myself? Maybe I'm depressed, maybe I stay awake at night thinking 'Oh, I wonder how my life would be if my dad wasn't a douchebag who cared about Heiman more than his own family. Maybe I wouldn't be such a cunt if my friends didn't all hate me for smartening up. Or maybe, maybe I could've been a good person.' I'll never know any of these things, because none of you are fucking real!"

"We're only figments of your imagination because you make us so."

"Shut up, your figments of my imagination because I'm hallucinating."

"And why would you be hallucinating about us if you weren't guilty?"

"Maybe it's because, no matter how much I hate you all, I think all of you deserve to be here more than me."

"That's guilt, Luca."

"No, that's the truth."

As he fades back into consciousness, the ghosts begin to slowly blend back in with the ground of which they arose from. Something Luca had noticed just before they disappeared was that they were wearing the clothes that they had died in. He called out to the spirits one last time, but alas they couldn't respond.

Maybe they were more than spirits after all...





The light Luca thought was the Sun turns out to be the familiar lighting pattern of a hospital's ER. Lying on his bed, blanket pulled up to about chin level, the man can't move much of his body below the neck, and his head is killing him.

After sitting in silence in his bed like a good little patient for what felt like hours, the door opens and in steps who he assumed was the nurse. The first thing he noticed was her hair. It was a rather bright color of red, lighting up the room almost as she stepped in.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Arzegotti, I'm your nurse."

He tries to speak, but his comes out hoarse and crackly.

"Can I, can I get your name?"

She looks up from the clipboard she was focusing her attention on, a concerned look on her face after reading the report.

"Oh, of course! Katrina Perry, pleasure to meet you."

She sticks out her hand, but retracts it after remembering what she had read.

"So, you OD on sleeping pills, slit your wrist, and then manage to get an infection from that wound. Pardon my language, but how the fuck are you still alive, let alone conscious?"

"Sleeping pills?"

Luca had no recollection of even taking sleeping pills on a regular basis. Wait a minute, were they those pills Luca had stolen from Roger's body? He said that they were over the counter Ibuprofen!

"Yeah, they were prescribed to you, so no crime there...

Have you been depressed lately?"

Well damn, that was a direct question. Luca's face was sweating, was it how awkward he felt being asked that question like the nurse was some fucking psychiatrist or something? Was it the light shining right on him? It didn't matter, Luca didn't like the feeling.

"What's it to you?"

Again, Ms. Perry looks up from the clipboard. Why she's looking at the clipboard so damn much during a conversation is rather rude, but that's beside the point. Her eyes were lit up a bit after reading something.

"Oh nothing, nothing. Say, do you know where I could get some..."

She walks closer to the patient and leans in to whisper in his ear:

"Cocaine?"

Oh fuck. Was he tested or something? How would she know if that wasn't the case.

"Relax. I'm not going to let that little bit get to the cops, on the condition you tell me where you get it. I haven't had a hit in months."

"Then why do you want it?"

"I wasn't trying to quit."

"In that case, I guess I could tell you..."

It's at this point that Luca can see the scars on Ms. Perry's right arm. There weren't too many, 3 tops. He couldn't help but stare at them, at least he knew he wasn't going to get preached at.

"Wanna know how I got these scars?"

"I have an idea. Why do you do it? Just curious."

"I'll tell you if you tell me."

He nods, and on a silent count of three, they both say in unison:

"The pain lets me know I'm still alive."