When I come to, I am lying on a stone cold floor. The iciness blooms across my back, and I shiver involuntarily as I struggle to sit up. I am dizzy and disoriented, my throat burning with an unfamiliar thirst. Once I managed to straighten up, however, I am hit by a sudden wave of nausea. I rush to my feet, and vomit into the toilet.
The substances I threw up isn’t something I’ve ever seen someone vomit out before. It is black, pure black, like thick ink. A thin mist rises from the fluid, but vanishes into air within seconds. I cough and hack until there is nothing left before wobbling to the sink, but slowly, my memories return, little by little. But not only my memories return. Images, events, faces of strangers--they invade me, and I clutch my head in agony.
I...entered his body. These are...his memories...
Suddenly, I realize that I have hands. Real hands, made of peachy flesh and streams of blood coursing through them. I stare down at them, shaking. Finally realizing, I crawl madly to the sink on my hands and knees like a crazed animal and spring to my feet.
In the mirror, I see him. I pause, and he pauses. I blink, he blinks. I open my palm and slide it over my face in disbelief. I am him. I really am him. His blue eyes are mine. His blonde hair is mine. His heart is mine. I light up as I feel the thump-thumping of it as my chest heaves up and down. A broad smile stretches across my face, and I laugh. I laugh until I could barely breathe, but I can’t seem to stop. I inhale deeply and relish the sound of his—no, MY voice.
He is the man that she’s waiting for. He’s the man she loves, and I am him now.
YOU ARE READING
The Shadow
HorrorThe first time I saw her, I knew that I was going love her. Her, with strands of reddish-brown hair escaping her ponytail as she sprinted across the field. Her, with sun-kissed skin and almond eyes, radiating light when she laughed. From then on, I...
