On some deep, unconscious level, he had always known it to be true. He was an invention, a fictional character. Jacob Lightfoot didn't exist. 
It doesn't seem right to throw dirt at you when you're dead ...
With the warmth of an alien sun on his back, Jacob took a deep breath at the door and knocked. 
Being amongst rough lives and confusion does not make you less, it only makes your beauty shine out more clearly.
Sometimes he was weird, sometimes he was Captain Douchebag, but he was always my best friend.
