The Illusion of Separation

Chris wasn't the type to take things seriously.

When he first took over my body, it felt like I'd just stepped out into the icy winds of Antarctica. It was fucking cold and I guess that's why people say they feel a chill and think it's a ghost. They're probably right because even when I touched his arms or hands or neck, he was cold. It didn't bother him, though. He said it felt like his body was room temperature, and so mostly I had to suffer with the fact that I was sleeping with an ice cube. Thank God for electric blankets, and they don't massively electrocute ghosts.

Once he'd gotten settled inside my body, he decided he was going to make me do all kinds of stupid things. He went to the mirror and cupped my breasts in his hands, making stupid sounds and saying things like, "Shit, I'm stacked. Do they always feel twice as big when they're on you?" I wasn't stacked. I was a C-cup, borderline approaching D. But in a sick, twisted way it was kind of nice to have Christofer playing around with my body. Mostly, though, it was just annoying as hell.

Christofer, I thought to him, can we stick with what we came here to do?

"Oh...yeah, sure. In a minute." He was busy still playing around with my chest as if he'd never seen a breast before. I rolled my eyes inwardly, since I didn't have control of them right now, and waited for him to be done.

Carter was having the time of his life watching Chris. I could see this manic grin on his face, as if he was about to burst into laughter but didn't dare because he knew I'd sucker-punch him in the gut. He even had the hand up in front of his mouth and everything. "God, Chris, you're such a fucking pervert," he said, and let himself snicker just a little. "Poor Hannah. You okay in there, Hannah?" But the way he said it, he was about to crack up.

No, I'm being fondled by a Missouri boy who doesn't know the meaning of the word 'privacy', I said inside my mind, figuring Carter would know what I was about to say anyway.

He did stop, eventually, though. It took about ten minutes of agonizing invasion of privacy, but he finally got bored and decided he'd go to his house and do what he had been planning to do all along. Which was to blast Stephen Jerzak for texting his sister despite the fact that it wasn't really too much of a big deal. Oh well. At least it wouldn't be as intimidating coming from my mouth. Who's ever been scared of a southern seventeen-year-old girl, unless she's got some huge-ass older brother or dad? And my dad didn't even know Chris was still around, so he wouldn't get involved in something like this. Besides, it's kind of pathetic to have your dad fight your fights for you...at least in my world.

Sarah, Hannah, and David were all at the door before we even got out of the car. They'd accepted the fact that Christofer was dead so they didn't look like walking zombies or anything, but they did look sad. Probably because I had a close tie to Christofer, and we had spent a lot of time together. Seeing me without seeing Christofer was a pretty rare sight and I was almost sure they were imagining Christofer getting out of the car with me.

"Shit," Chris muttered as we got out. "Fucking shit."

Language, potty mouth.

"Yeah, yeah."

I'm a lady, Chris, and I expect to sound moderately like one when you're controlling my body.

Christofer might have been inappropriate and completely boyish, but he had been raised in the traditional southern way, taught to respect girls and treat them right, so he did listen to me knowing that if he started making me swear like a sailor like he did, I'd look like a total asshole. I did swear a lot, but only when it was around friends that knew me well enough to know that I wasn't trashy and that I didn't always speak like that. As we went up to his siblings, I could feel him surpress the urge to talk to them as their brother.

"Hey," he said, "what's been goin' on? You kids okay?"

...so maybe he wasn't as great at impersonating me as he thought he was. Nobody's perfect.

Sarah and Hannah attacked me in hugs while David stayed back a little ways, arms crossed. He was definitely holding his sadness in. David was the kind of guy that would be ready to burst into tears but you wouldn't know it because he was so damn impersonal until something hit really close to home and he just couldn't take it anymore. I'd seen him when Christofer had talked about getting famous as a singer at the table, or on the porch or something. David had intense envy in his eyes. He wanted out of Missouri more than anything in the world when he was in middle school and highschool, but he'd never been able to escape.

"Hannah," Sarah sniffed, "how've you been gettin' along without Chris?"

I could feel this surge of emotion in Chris, this overwhelming sadness. He wanted so badly to tell them that he was right there, right underneath the surface, that he could hear them, that he would talk to them if he could. But he kept it down and said, "It's been pretty hard, but I've survived. How 'bout you?"

Hannah and Sarah looked at each other, sharing a very sad, sisterly look, then looked back at me. Or Chris. Or whoever.

"It's been hard, like you said," said Hannah, "but I guess we've been alright. It's just hard when I see somethin' and it reminds me of Chris and suddenly I get all sad. Like the other day I saw this one guy playin' guitar on the side of the road and all I could see was Chris."

Fuck, I could hear Chris think. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Christofer, it's alright. Just keep your head. Don't blow it or they won't even want to listen to me anymore, and you won't be able to talk to them at all.

"How about..." Chris swallowed the lump in his throat and forced a smile. "...how about we go inside and talk a little?"