house.
This switch wouldn’t be a shock like it was with Leah Montgomery, or confusing like it was with Sharayah. This time I knew exactly who I would be, and except for Alyce’s recent issues, we shared all our secrets. Sometimes I felt that we were so close we were like twins, although we looked completely different. I was freckled with curly brown hair, and Alyce had exotic long black hair and golden-brown skin. I knew all her favorite things, her school schedule, her teachers, her friends and enemies. Once I found out what her problem was, I’d solve it and our friendship would be better than ever. It would be strange to see myself with Grammy’s soul living my life, but cool, too.
Being Alyce for a few days would be the easiest Temp Lifer assignment ever.
So I sailed free and gave myself whole-heartedly into my mission.
I imagined her bedroom at the back of their house, where an oak tree brushed up against the window, creaking eerily in strong winds and offering climbing branches for when Alyce needed to sneak out at night, or for when I wanted to visit without her mother knowing. I could almost feel the force of movement as dreams and reality blended and I neared my destination.
Then everything slowed. I had a sense of weight, as if I were a heavy stone and falling, falling until a jolt rocked me and I felt substance again. There was a gradual awareness of arms, hands, legs and Alyce’s silky black hair. I was lying on my back on silky fabric with my arms pressed against my sides.
I willed my eyes open … then realized they were open. Only I was encased in total darkness.
I knew Alyce’s house almost as well as I knew my own, and realized with growing alarm that while I seemed to be in Alyce’s body, I was not in her bedroom. The air was stuffy, with an overwhelming fragrance of woodsy pines and flowers. Not the natural outdoors, either, but artificial, like the spray from an aerosol can.
And when I moved my borrowed arms and legs, I banged into a hard solid surface. Lifting my head, I bumped it against a low ceiling. No, not a ceiling, I realized, as I ran Alyce’s fingers over a smooth, rounded surface. I was trapped somewhere dark and confining.
As my eyes started to adjust, I noticed tiny pricks of light at the edges around me. A growing horror was building inside me and I shivered. The silky fabric, smooth wood sides and artificial floral smells all added up to a terrifying possibility.
I wasn’t in Alyce’s bedroom.
I was in her coffin.
