An unfamiliar life

I woke up that day in a life that was unfamiliar.

The curtains were more pink than mine.

The bed was more comfy than mine

The chest was more heavy than mine.

And between my legs, what was supposed to be mine wasn’t there.

I pinched my arm, but the pain was too real to be that of a dream. I rubbed my eyes, but the unfamiliar sights didn’t disappear.

Finally, it set in that this was reality.

I slowly sat up from the silk-sheeted bed and got to my feet. My coordination was a little wonky, as if I was unused to controlling this body. My eyesight, however, was much better than before, and there was not a pair of glasses in sight.

Steadying myself on my feet, I trundled over to the full-body mirror at the back of the brightly coloured room. A face stared back at me that was not my own. It was that of a girl, likely seventeen or eighteen like myself, wearing an expression of confusion. She had a naturally pretty face and beautiful long brown hair, along with a tall and slender figure that both men and women would be jealous of. And when I moved, as did she.

I had seen movies and read books with strange occurrences like this, but never once entertained the thought of it really happening. Going to sleep and waking up in a body that’s not your own? Absurd. How could that even be possible? I could think of no feasible scientific explanation.

And yet, with undeniable certainty, it had happened.

“Rachel, hon! It’s after midday already, come eat some breakfast!”

A woman’s voice called out from somewhere in the house, assumedly addressed to me. This girl sleeps past midday? Must be a nice life.

“Coming!” I called back, not wanting to arouse suspicion. I threw a dressing gown over the pyjamas I was wearing and left the bedroom, stumbling my way down the stairs. Being half-asleep and in a foreign body really made that part difficult. Once down the stairs, I stepped into a large and beautifully decorated living/dining room. Between the extravagant bedroom and lavish living room, I had to assume the girl who’s body I was inhabiting was much wealthier than I.

“I know you like to sleep in, but you’re starting to take the piss a bit, y’know.” The same voice from before startled me, but this time it had a body attached. There before me stood a woman, appearing to be in her early to mid forties, with a disapproving look on her face. “I left some croissants for you. They’re cold, but that’s your own silly fault. Get eating.”

“Y-yeah… sorry about that…” I sat down at the table, where the plate of now-cold croissants sat, and began eating. However, a quick look at the suspicious look on the lady’s face had me worried. “I-is there something wrong?”

“You’re just… being weirdly polite today,” she said, cocking her head to the side, “normally you’d complain about having cold food and demand I make you more.”

What sort of spoiled brat did I take over for? I had a feeling this was gonna be a difficult day.

“Guess I’m just… too tired to argue today.” I replied with a grumble. The lady raised her eyebrow, but the following sigh and eye roll told me she bought the excuse.

“Just hurry up and eat. Aren’t you supposed to be meeting up with your friends this afternoon? You’ll run out of time at this rate.”

“R-right… I’ll hurry up…”

The exasperated lady that I assumed to be this girl’s mother finally left the room, allowing me a moment to think to myself about the situation I had found myself in.

I had no idea when, or if, I would return to my own body, but in the meantime I would do everything in my power to protect the girl’s way of life. There was still so much I didn’t know, but I wasn’t about to go causing problems while in the drivers seat then expecting them fixed while I ride shotgun.

As I chewed the stone cold croissant, I swore to swore to myself- no, to Rachel, that I would live her life properly, for as long as it took for me to get back to my own.

***

After awkwardly changing clothes with my eyes closed and desperately trying to remember how my little sister taught me to apply makeup six years ago, I left for my sole appointment for the day: meeting up with Rachel’s friends at the local pub.

I had to quickly read back through a very long group chat discussion to understand what was happening and where I was supposed to go, but eventually I figured everything out. Rachel was indeed eighteen, as were all of her friends. It happened to be the day her youngest friend turned 18, and the whole group had decided to go out for a drink to celebrate. I felt a little bad that it was me and not Rachel herself that got to go to such an event. It

“Sorry gang! Feeling a little under the weather today so I’m probably not gonna be out late tonight. Hangover’s the last thing I need 😓. I’ll still have a pint or two tho!”

I had sent that message to the group chat earlier, hoping I had properly emulated Rachel’s style. Getting shitfaced was just about the worst thing I could do in a situation like this, so testing the waters and calling it a day early was the best option.

It was mid afternoon by the time I arrived at the pub, and many of Rachel’s friends (who I recognised from their pictures) were already drinking.

“Rach! You came!” Said a girl holding a mostly-empty pint of lager. I recognised her as Grace, the girl who’s birthday we were celebrating.

“Wouldn’t miss your big one-eight, would I?” I replied, though it was hard to stop my voice from trembling. Pretending to be someone else, especially someone I didn’t know, was not likely to be an easy task.

“Well you did stand me up last time, but I’ll forgive you for that one.” Grace winked at me, which I took to mean she genuinely held no ill will, but I once again found myself wondering just who this girl I had taken over for was. Who stands up their own friends like that?

Luckily, with everyone getting progressively more drunk over time, I was able to keep up the facade of ‘Rachel’ reasonably easily. All I had to do was mimic the kind of language she used in her texts and no one was any the wiser.

I oddly found myself enjoying the night. Though staying true to my word and only drinking a single pint myself, I found the company of Rachel’s friends to be a lot of fun. It was the sort of carefree evening that I personally longed for, though I lacked the necessary parts like “friends” and “money.”

My guilt at taking Rachel’s place began to fade throughout the night, and I decided to simply do my best to enjoy it without giving it too much thought. I felt like that’s what Rachel would mostly likely do herself.

“Y’know, you’re a little different tonight, Rach,” said Emma, another of Rachel’s friends I had become somewhat familiar with.

“Really? I guess I am still feeling a little under…”

“No no, I’m not saying it’s bad!” Said the tipsy girl after taking another sip from her brightly coloured cocktail. “It’s kinda nice. No shit-talking other girls, no bragging about money, you seem all mellow and shiz. I like it!”

“Oh! Uhh… well, I’m just trying to enjoy the evening with everyone else, y’know, hehe…”

Jesus, just who is this girl I’m filling in for?

I passed the rest of the night having fun with Rachel’s friends, before excising myself early and wandering back home.

As I let myself back in the house and eventually clambered into the silky pink bed, I actually felt… glad. The day had been a fun one, even if I was constantly anxious that I would ruin this poor girl’s life.

All that being said, I was hoping that would be the end of it. One day to enjoy someone else’s life, before being back to my own body for good.

It wasn’t long before I felt myself happily drift off into a dreamless sleep, happy about the day behind and excited for the day ahead.

The next morning, I woke up, and sure enough, everything was mine.

The greyish-black curtains on the wall were mine.

The slightly springy but not unbearable bed was mine.

The boob-less chest was mine.

And the blood soaking the sheets was mine.