<strong>Franny Stein</strong><br/><br/>Fran sighed, once again the third wheel. She was roundly ignored by everyone standing there, like she didn't even exist. A fate she'd been relegated to before. While the drama played out before her, she stood up and walked away, knowing she had no place in it. There was never a place for her. She was just a walking corpse, after all. Borrowed life. Borrowed body. Not a real person. Fran walked off the roof and headed back downstairs, then left the school all together. She was determined never to come back. What was the point of it all? She'd gone there to make friends. How had that worked out? Not well. So, she headed to a place where she fit in most. The cemetery. The construct walked deep into the graveyard, crested a hill with a lone, withered tree atop it, and sat there, looking out over all the buried pieces and parts of former people. It was quiet. She liked that. "Maybe I should just stay here until I rot away." The construct slouched and closed her eyes. That seemed like a good idea.