He clenched his fists, trying not to lash out. He knew it wasn't real. He knew it was just his echo trying to trick him. He knew she wasn't here.

"Really?" Sophie's voice interrupted his thoughts, this time sounding within his mind. "You think pretending I don't exist will get rid of me?"

He put his hands to his ears like that would silence her. "Get out of my head."

She chuckled. "I don't think so. This is too much fun."

He stood and faced her. "You're not Sophie. She would never do something like this."

She cocked her head. "Are you sure? Given how little I knew about you, what makes you think you know anything about me?"

He stared her straight in the eyes. "Because Sophie is the Moonlark. She's good and compassionate and kind. She respects a person's privacy."

"What about the ogre king?" She challenged.

His eyes widened. "That was different. She learned her lesson the hard way."

"Did I though?" She asked, planting seeds of doubt in his mind. "What did I do only a few months later?"

He didn't answer.

She walked around behind him and whispered in his ear. "I did exactly what I'm doing now, invading a mind without permission." She circled him like he was prey. "You know, I came here to see if I could bring you back, but... now that I've seen who you really are... I'm not so sure."

He sighed, his shoulders slumped, and his eyes closed. "But your just as damaged."

"What?" She almost laughed.

He opened his eyes and looked at her. "You're not Sophie. You're my echo, which means you're part of me. You're just as damaged and screwed as me, because you ARE me."

The figure that looked like Sophie, convulsed and twisted grotesquely. When she settled, she no longer looked like Sophie.  This shade, or whatever it was, looked exactly like him. It was his twin.

The shade smirked. "You got me. I'm not your Moonlark, but I do know EVERYTHING about you. I can tell her what you really are." As it spoke, the shade seemed to turn into a dark version of him. Bloody cuts spread across his pale skin. His hair went limp and messy. His clothes were tattered.

He sucked in a breath. This was how he saw himself in his mind - damaged, hurt, ashamed.

The shade met his gaze, his eyes a mixture of grief and anger and guilt. The desperate eyes of mind about to break.

His heart pounded wildly at the all-too-familiar sight. This was the real him - a boy fighting so hard to hold it all together; a boy who hated his parents and himself; a boy who only held on because of a single person, a single hope, Sophie. Now, he feared he might lose her.