Aya was burning. She was setting fire from the inside out, and could feel her bones splinter and crackle as her muscles, blood, and skin were consumed by flames. She was freezing solid and her blood was trapped in her veins, futilely trying to get to her pounding heart, but only left Aya cold and shaking, unable to move. Memories, thoughts, emotions, [i]Sebastian[/i] pounded through her head and reverberated down her spine. There was so much. There was too much.

The stars snuffed out around her and Aya snapped open her eyes to find herself in her body. She was shaking uncontrollably and her mouth gaped open and closed like a fish's as she tried to take in as much air as she could, but each breath was painful. She was already so [i]full[/i] like her body would burst just trying to contain her altered soul. The stench of blood hung heavy in the air and Aya was horrified to find herself comforted by it.

Somehow she managed to push herself up into a sitting position. Lifting her trembling hands up to her face, Aya stared. The hands were small and feminine and covered in blood. She recognized the odd freckle here or there, the shape of the fingers, but the skin was so pale. Aya dragged a hand towards her chest only to find it heaving up and down at an alarmingly fast rate. Her heart pounded underneath her ribcage. Finding familiar dark hair falling over her shoulders, she grabbed at it like it was a lifeline. It was sticky with blood and hanging in clumps but she was certain it was [i]hers[/i].

God, she just wanted her dad. But she'd killed the abusive bastard years ago.

Nononono[i]no[/i] her father had been caring and full of light. Aya loved him.

She then realized she was crying, tears falling fast and heavy from her eyes and down her face. They dropped onto her clothes, ruined by bloodstains. Some distant, more coherent part of her mind recognized she was hyperventilating.