My body

All of a sudden, she’s gone and I’m left all alone in my empty house.

I leave my wrist under the freezing water, and stare aimlessly at nowhere in particular. I have to get back to school, back to civilization, but there’s something burning deep inside of me, something I can’t ignore.
Something I don’t want.
Curiosity… and the post-takeover nausea.

I hate it. Because she slit my wrist open, I’m suddenly curious. I want to know why she’s like this, what her reasoning is for changing me, and who she is.

The blood stops flowing and I turn off the water. I walk up the stairs to my parent’s bathroom. Under the sink is a first aid kit my mother has never had to use. I pull out some bandages, wrapping them sloppily around my wrist. I hurry to my bed room, grabbing a jacket to cover up my injuries and leave my house.

My parents were both at work, which was good. What would she have done if they had been home? What would they have done if they’d witnessed me cutting myself? But I hadn’t really been doing it. It was all her.

I sound like a petty little girl. Never taking responsibility for my actions. But they weren’t my actions.

I make it back to school five minutes before the bell for the end of lunch rings. I walk lazily to my locker, leaning against it. The events of less than half an hour ago have left me slightly dizzy and food is the last thing I want.

I close my eyes, willing myself to relax, to forget about the stinging cuts on my wrist. But I can’t. All I can think about is that brief moment, where I felt the same longing for blood, for a kill, that she always has. For just that moment, she had won.

It wasn’t really me. She was influencing me, those gruesome thoughts would have never come to my mind if she hadn’t put them there. Death was the last thing I wanted. I’d already experienced death, two years ago. Once was too much for me.
But now it’s all I can think about, because I’ve reminded myself.

The memories start to churn, returning to life, becoming vivid and clear again.
”Ally!” Someone cries, but I can’t recognize the voice, there’s too much water in my ears, in my mouth, lungs, skin, bones. I’m being completely consumed and I can’t fight back. My jeans are snagged on a rock, deep in the bed of the river and now I’m really doomed, because there’s no possible way to reach the surface from here.

I let out a panicked, gargled scream, clawing against the freezing water, the rock stopping me from surviving. I’m giving up, I know I am. I can tell from the way my body begins to feel weak, my lungs aching excruciatingly and my vision going in and out of blackness. I’m done. Fifteen and done.

“Ally?” Dawson calls, grabbing my shoulder.
I gasp, my eyes flying open and I jump back, hitting lockers.

“Holy shit, you scared me,” I mutter, putting a hand on my chest, attempting to breathe normal. Dawson looks at me, his face full of concern.

“Sorry. You ok?” He asks, tilting his head slightly. I swallow, taking in a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little out of it today.”

“Where were you at lunch, I couldn’t find you.”
I was attacking myself with a knife.

“I went home. I had to get a jacket.”
Another lame excuse I’ve had to give someone because of her. I hate to lie. I hate to deceive people. Because trust is such an important thing to me, hell it’s important to everyone. And so whenever I have to lie, no matter how small, I always feel as if I’ve completely betrayed someone.

“Alright. Maybe you should go home,” He suggests, “You don’t look so good.”

“You’re not that gorgeous either,” I joke, but I know he’s not meaning it that way. And I know he’s right. I feel like hell, and I know I’m probably ghost pale. I still feel light headed, my stomach still doing back flips.

“I am gorgeous, thank you very much.” He folds his arms defensively, but I can see that he wants to smile. I shove him playfully and the movement makes me dizzier and I lean against a locker. “Serious Ally, I think you should go home.”

“I’m fi-“ I’m about to tell another flimsy lie and decide it’s not really worth it. “Yeah I feel like crap.”

“I’ll drive you home,” He volunteers, putting an arm around me and leading me toward an exit. I shake my head, trying to get out of his grasp but my attempts are futile because Dawson is a member of the football team.

“D, you’ll be late,” I mumble, feeling weaker as the seconds tick by. Was I coming down with something? Had I lost too much blood? Maybe I was just stressed.

Before I can react Dawson lifts me up into his arms, carrying me across the parking lot. It’s not a romantic thing. He and I have been best friends since we were fourteen, but there’s never been a spark. He’s like my twin brother.

So as he carries me to his car, and gently places me in the passenger seat, there’s not double meaning. He just cares about me, like we’re family. Cause really, we are family. We’d been through so much together, there was no doubt in my mind that we were.
I’m half conscious by the time we get to my house. Somehow he manages to get my keys out of my pocket. He takes me inside, and puts me down in my bed.

My body feels hot, too hot, and I thin layer of sweat is starting to form. I start to pull my jacket off, my arms feeling tangled in the fabric.

Dawson helps me out of it before I can struggle for too long. My eyes are shut and I know at any moment I’ll really be out of it. Dawson lightly takes my arm, holding it for a little bit. I don’t really register what’s happening.

“Feel better Ally,” He murmurs, and then I’m gone.

The world around me is glassy, dark, and frozen. I sit up; wincing as I peel myself of what I realize is ice. That’s all there is. The sky is dark, but not in a cloudy way. Just never ending blackness.
I think I’m alone, but I notice a girl standing a few feet away from me. Her skin is pale, her hair dark, almost black. She’s facing away from me, so I can only see her profile. Her lips are almost as white as her skin and the skin under the eye I can see is a faded purple.
There’s something else about her that stands out.
She’s dead.
I don’t know why I know this. Maybe it’s just the place we’re in, or the dark aura that seems to surround her, or it could be the unhealthy blotches that cover her pasty skin. It was like she had dead stamped on her forehead.

“You’ve never come here before,” She murmurs, not looking at me. Her arms are folded, but the chill air doesn’t appear to affect her.
I don’t know how to respond. She seems so familiar.

“Who are you?” I ask. A small smile lights her lips, and it looks wrong. It looks… difficult.

“I don’t really know anymore,” She replies, turning to face me. The other side of her face is the same. Pale and blotched, greenish and purple bruises spread randomly across her skin. “Why are you here?”

“I… I don’t know,” I answer, finally getting to my feet. “Do I know you?”
An unreadable emotion clouds her eyes, that don’t seem to have a reflection anymore. Just grey and glazed. She turns her face away from me again, staring into the nothingness.

“You did,” She says, so quietly that I’m not sure whether I’m meant to hear it. “You knew the old me,” She adds, and I know I’m meant to hear that. The old her? What was the talking about?

“Who are you?” I ask again, still feeling the need to know.

“I don’t know,” She repeats through clenched teeth. Her outburst catches me by surprise and I’m not sure what to say. I rub my arm awkwardly, the cold raises goosebumps on my skin.
It occurs to me this is my dream, and if I’m sick of the temperature I’ll change it. I concentrate, letting all my body heat flow out, filling the air around us. Slowly the ice begins to become slicker, small puddles forming.
My small shivers end, and I feel cozy as the ice gets thinner.
The girls head snaps to look at me, her eyes wide.
“What are you doing?”

“Uh, warming it up in here-“

“No!” She screams as the ice below her cracks, and she falls through it. I gasp, running toward the hole, my bare feet lose purchase almost immediately and slip. I slam on my side and cry out in pain. But I’ve got to save her. I’ve just got to.

There a panicked feeling clawing up my chest, constricting my air way. I clamber forward, plunging my hand into the cold black water. I cringe at the freezing feeling, my arms going numb almost immediately.

She latches onto me, her head and arms bursting out of the water.
“Help me!” She shrieks, as if she’s not clinging onto my arms, like she got up herself.

“I am! Calm down, I’ll save you,” I promise, my eyes stinging. My chest is aching, and it feels like there’s a hole in my chest as I see her terrified, dead face. I memory flashes in my mind, briefly, but long enough to send me into a panic worse than before. “Who are you?!” I scream, wrenching my arms out of her grip.

I sit up, my breathing heavy, my heart racing. Sweat is covering my body, making my shirt cling to my, my hair a matted mess against my neck and brow. I pull it back, hunching forward and taking in a heavy breath.
“Oh god,” I choke, feeling like I was going to throw up. I know her. I knew her. I let out a strangled sob, tears pouring down my face. “Oh god,” I repeat, the memory of her face suffocating me. “I’m sorry. Shit, oh god.”
I let out another sob, “I’m sorry!”