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Inherit, Posess

Inherit, Posess

By A Person

Lying on the floor, my dying body ached for sustenance. My coupled mind processed the pain like it had everything else before.

When I came here, and inherited Emily's body, I knew it would be wonderful. I knew it would be transcendant. I never knew how strong it would be, but that was the best part of it all.

Emily and I became one, we became me. For a time, we were separate, in a vague sort of way. She could feel me, but I was locked out of her head, her heart, and her spirit.

Slowly, as I faded away, Emily was able to become me, surrendering every irrelevant need--for the most part--and becoming submerged in feeling. In knowing. In an absolute, exquisite way of living.

It was too strong. Or It was it.

was it...

...

That night changed everything for emily, and every night folliwing. Emily would separate from me, and I would see her pain without feeling it. I had to put her in the hole under the stairs to keep her from ending it, because it seemed so unfair for her to feel while I could not. The sun would rise, and she would forget, and we would become me again.

Me.

My hands reached forward, dragging myself down the hall, step by step up the stairs, past the landing, across the tightly woven rugs that Mrs. Albert spent so long making. I--inside me, a memory was alive: Jack, wrapped in it that night, in front of the fire. He looked so calm.

As my fingers grasped its fabric, the dried blood cracked a little.

Jack's body was still by the fire.

One more flight of stairs before Emily was where I found her, and I could leave. We just had to get me there.

Each board seemed to creak, each time I put my hand down, the wonderful texture of the wood's grain caressed my fingertips.

Down the hall, the door was cracked open. Emily's room.

Inch

By

Inch

I

Crawled

Forward.

The gap widened silently as my hand pushed it inward.

I slid over, next to the bed, next to Mrs. Albert. Her dress is torn like mine. These fingers were good at tearing.

Were they too good?

No.

The anger was bad. The anger was what brought the end. When the anger was too much, and it took Mrs. Albert, and Taylor, and Jack, and Evan, it took the future. It took away future happiness. Future pain. Oh, the pain. I didn't mean to end it. I didn't mean it.

A new me...

Another me would be the greatest thing possible.

A new...

New me.

.

END

Author Notes: Please tell me what you thought of this series. I really don't know what my feelings are, so...

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About The Author
Shy
A Person
About This Story
Audience
All
Posted
25 Jan, 2020
Words
443
Read Time
2 mins
Rating
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Views
135

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