Esther waited patiently, listening for the voice from her Other.  It was meditative, in a way, focusing on nothing but the sound inside her own being.  It caused her to become aware of herself, her breath.  Her surroundings.  And the manifold of thoughts that she was trying ignore.<br/><br/>She was sitting alone on the bathroom floor, at a sleezy gas station, with the scent of urine and putrid deodorizers around her.  She had chosen this, because she felt safe.  A moment ago, she had been a mistress, who could have demanded a lifetime of worship or a career of theft from a panting, gorgeous whore.  Now she was in this miserable place.  Safe enough to ask questions that she needed the answers to, but without anyone besides her silent Other to ask.<br/><br/>What were the Parasites?  A natural predator, another clan of Other in rivalry for mortal will?  Agents of a God, as those things Olivia had spoken with claimed to be?  If that was the case, was it right to destroy whatever Effigy she expected to find this evening?  Was it even possible?  Would the Other be helped?  Were they strong enough to threaten Billy?<br/><br/>When she had tied up Kaylee, she had expected it to give rise to their pleasure.  Indeed it had, although the Other had broken free of those bond almost instantly, not needing them.  How was she supposed to act, to help the Other better?  Trading pieces of humanity for otherworldly powers and pleasures seemed fair enough, for a pact.  But her Other was a lifeform.  Could she create a relationship with it?  As a host, wasn't that preferable?  Or was she simply a vessel, to be filled, broken and discarded.  She thought of Billy then, wondering if, for all his powers, he was just as transient.  A suit made of flesh, easily worn and casually discarded.<br/><br/>Still no reply.  Esther felt herself balling up, holding her knees to her chest, as guilt assailed her.  Twice today, she had betrayed her own morals on sex, ruining not one but two lives in a way so hard to imagine she almost didn't believe it, even now.  And yet, she had<em>loved</em>it.  She could feel part of her already yearning for her next time.  Was it just pleasure?  Was it power she wanted?  To feel like she was the strongest of her coven of trans-human fledglings?  Hadn't she already guaranteed herself that she would never,<em>ever</em>fail again!  She would never be lost, broken, or defeated!  What more did she need?<br/><br/>Esther felt strength return only breifly, until she looked around and sniffed.  Fresh sorrow welled up in her throat, once more reminded that despite the guarantee that she couldn't fail, she was balled up on a bathroom floor, trying not to cry.  The only thing more powerful than a wish, was the genie that granted it.  Even Disney could tell her that much.  The door inside her was shattered, the Other growing stronger as she slowly lost touch.  Was she doomed, then, to be devoured?  Was that what had happened to Billy?  Had he offered all four of them up to whatever god creature he'd called up to, to stave off his own inevitable extinction at its hand?  It seemed sickeningly plausible.  What was she to do with such a fear?  There was no one, literally no one that she could speak to about it, let alone to comfort her.<br/><br/>Esther's eyes narrowed.  There was a truth, shared between herself and her mother.  Something only the two of them knew, but that had never been spoken or acknowledged.  Both of them were hard to loneliness.  Both of them believed that as long as they could rely on themselves, they needed no one.  That they could challenge this world without help, without support, without anybody.  It was a lie.  They knew they couldn't do it all by themselves; who could?  But after years of disappointment, they hid the truth from even themselves.  And so, they clung to each other.  Both of them<em>needing</em>the one other person in the world who understood what they themselves couldn't bear to face.  The Wilmington Women, and their secret pact of social dysfunction.<br/><br/>Last night, Esther had conquered that lie.  Last night, she had danced beneath Armageddon itself, laughing, her fears expunged.  Never again would she be a person that couldn't rely on herself!  She would never fail, never know the desperation of crying for help!  And all it had cost her was the grey shroud of bitterness that had protected her from others.  Up until now, she hadn't missed it, even thought it was funny that such a useless, petty part of herself could be traded for such great things.  But now, holding her knees in the dark and waiting for a reply that never came, she realized she was truly alone.  And she didn't even have her bitter shroud for defense.  And what she needed, even though only her Mother would have known, was someone to help her.<br/><br/>Esther sobbed, remembering how beautifully, comfortingly<em>normal</em>yesterday had been.  A world she hated, but understood.  A mother she hated, but cherished.  A school she hated, but went to every day.  A life she hated, but that she kept living.  Tears streamed down her face.  She missed her hate.  She'd never felt lonely at all, when she'd simply hated everything.  And now, with what she was becoming, 'normal' seemed hopelessly impossible, and her only hate was for herself.<br/><br/>Something outside of herself lit a candle in her core.  Her face was buried in her hands, and the sobs eased.  The candle light was warm, comforting.  Somewhere around it, she felt her Other quiver, and she felt the small light reply, to offer something.  Esther's tearful eyes quirked in confusion, as she felt her Other subside.  And then there was an embrace.<br/><br/>Someone was holding her, telling her it was alright.  That she was special, beautiful.  Blameless.  It whispered words of comfort to her, the comfort seeping into her like a warm balm.  It was inexplicable.  No part of herself or her Other was making her feel this way.  She deserved to feel horrid.  But even as she said this to herself, a hand cupped her cheek, words told her that she was wrong.  That she deserved to feel happy, to feel hope.<br/><br/>Some kind of faith took root, the candle flame lighting her whole body.  It wasn't her hope, but she needed it.  She tried to resist, to fall deeper into her own misery, but the light weakened it, making it seem silly.  Esther found herself smiling weakly through her tears, surrendering to the feeling.  It was going to be alright.  She was simply afraid, simply adjusting.  Things were better than ever, and they would only get better from here!  Everything would work out wonderfully!<br/><br/>Esther lifted her head from her knees, looking at the stall nearby.  And then her eyes went wide, her body flinching.  There, fluttering right in front of her, was an inch high expression of sheer concern and friendly worry.  Olivia's pixie companion.<br/><br/>"..Rose?"  she said, alarmed.  Esther hurriedly starting wiping the tears from her eyes with her wrists.  "Wh-what are you doing here?"  Esther sniffed, trying to compose herself quickly.  This wasn't a side of herself she was entirely comfortable with, and she certainly didn't want Olivia to see it.  That Teenage Bourgeois had everything.  There was a part of Esther that would always envy her for it.  And that same part would die if The Princess, of all people, pitied her.  "Is Olivia alright?" Esther asked, honestly concerned.  And then a little more crossly:  "Did she send you to spy on me?"