I knew she was badly broken. The bruises and cuts would never fully heal but maybe I could find what she lost. The little twinkle in her eyes, the cheer in her tone, why, I could even turn the pale colors back to their vivid hues. Yet I knew it would take awhile before she came back.

In a way she was like me, switched, I must add. She had a body but was missing her soul, I had mine but no flesh and bones. And yet as we took each step, and my floating ones too, we seemed to mend and fix our broken parts.

No one would see me, but they could see her. No one could hear me but she could. In a way I was still gone, but… I was also found.