The Letter Arrives

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I went out to get the mail this morning. The cool, crisp air whispered that change was afoot. As I opened the mailbox, a strange looking letter caught my eye. It was in a brown envelope, addressed to me, Esme Alexander. I never get letters. A bit weary because there was no return address, I picked up the envelope. Memories that I wasn't in flooded through my brain as soon as I touched the envelope. They bounced in my brain, ricocheting off the sides of my skull. Noise filled my head. Crying, laughing, screaming, every single noise a human being can make. It invaded my thoughts. I screamed to myself through the sound, "What's going on?" I dropped the envelope in a hurry, and my mind went silent. Shaking, I took a slow breath in. What is happening to me? I picked up the envelope, trying to shut out the thoughts that bore into my head. I ran up to my room, nonchalantly yelling, "Nothing!" when my mom asked what was wrong. I threw the envelope on the floor, wanting to bury it somewhere where no one would ever find it, somewhere where I would forget it, forget it even existed. But I couldn't. My heart pounding, I tore open the seal of the envelope. The letter, in loopy cursive, read:

Esme,

This is not your body. You are in my old body. I am writing you to warn you: your life is in danger. I cannot tell you who I am right now, for that will put me in more danger than ever before. You must find a way to save yourself. The rest is complicated, you will find out in due time. Do not tell anyone about this note.

There was nothing else, no more hints. And that was when it struck me. My life, as I knew it, was a lie. And that lie was in danger.

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