* * *

* * *

* * *

“Where am I? What is this place?”

“Emma, calm down.”

“Who the hell are you?!”

“... Emma, don’t you remember your—”

“Where is this place? Why am I here? In this, this… body? Why am I in this body? Who did this to me?”

“Emma, honey—”

“Stop calling me that! My name’s not--”

My world suddenly turned dark. 

“Emma!”

* * *

* * *

* * *

“Emma, you need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Honey, please eat. Think about your wounds--”

“I told you, I’m not hungry.”

‘Am I losing it? Why am I still here? Why is this woman who's insisting I'm her daughter still here? Isn’t this all supposed to be a dream?’

“This is not... This isn’t where I should be. I’m not supposed to be here!”

“Emma--”

“I told you, that’s not my name! What did you do to me? What are you, some sort of weird kidnapper? Human trafficker? Organ trafficker? Let me go!”

“Emma, how can you say that? I’m your mother--”

“Stop it! Leave me alone! Let me go! Let…”

*thud

“Emma!”

* * *

* * *

* * * 

I couldn’t, for the life of me, comprehend how I got into my current predicament.

I didn’t want to accept it. It all had to be a dream. I still had hope it was a dream, but it did not appear to be ending anytime soon.

I had to face the fact that it was some form of reality, akin to living in a nightmare.

I was in someone else’s body, in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by people I didn’t know. 

It was too much to handle.

I had moments where I was blacking in and out of consciousness because of that, not being able to bear with my new reality.

But somehow, after countless moments of wondering whether I was losing my mind and crying to the point of throwing up, l attained a sense of calm. I found myself going with the flow of whatever it was that was happening. 

That didn’t mean, though, that I had accepted anything. 

I don’t know how long it took, but I eventually stopped spending too much time in my thoughts.

Maybe it was because of the medication the woman was giving me. Perhaps that had altered my brain chemistry. I didn’t know, and I didn’t really care to find out, fearing that I might have another breakdown. 

But maybe it was the realization that I had later, that freaking out wasn't going to give me any answers.

While I was going through that terrible period, I slowly got to know the name of the blonde woman who was always there with me; the same woman I had seen when I woke up as Emma. 

Her name was Alice. 

She was Emma’s mother, and Emma was the name of the person whose body I had possessed.

With Alice, it was mostly short, concerned conversations about what I was feeling, how I was doing, or if I needed something. Her talking to me was also a factor that contributed to my calming down and accepting my current situation, at least enough to observe my surroundings and think of what to do next.

One thing I noticed after I had calmed down was that Emma’s body had an issue. The girl's body was covered in strange wounds and bruises, some of which appeared to be recent. I also noticed, or rather remembered, the other person who lived with Alice. It was the man I saw when I first awoke as Emma. His name was James. We never spoke, but I was reminded of him and learned who he was from passing, not-so-whispered conversations he had with Alice outside my bedroom.

The conversations were also another thing, and they added to my already uneasy feelings about everything around me. It didn't help to silence the alarm bells that had been ringing in my head ever since I found myself in that house.

“Alice, how did I--”

“Mom,” the woman interrupted with a shaky smile. “Call me mom.”

We were alone in our room, or rather Emma’s room. The woman was there to treat my wounds again, and the room reeked of medicine mixed with a faint smell of blood.

“… mom,” I relented, though I felt myself mentally cringe at that. “How did I get hurt?”

I wanted to get more clues regarding my current situation. But, unexpectedly, the woman flinched at my question.

“You don’t remem--” she cut herself off. She quickly averted her gaze from me. She did not say anything else while applying some cream medicine to the cuts on my back.

I let out a wince.

“It looks like you’re getting better,” she said instead. “I’m glad. You’ll soon be able to move out of the room. Staying in here all day can be boring, right?”

She then gave a nervous chuckle, not really looking at me.

Ever since I became Emma, I hadn’t moved a lot. In fact, the bedroom and bathroom were the only places I had become familiar with. I had my food in the room and barely had any interactions outside of it. 

But the way Alice reacted to my question was suspicious, as was everything else in the house.

It was highly likely she knew something because she didn’t answer me. But what was it that she didn't want to tell me?

Or… was she the one responsible for the current state of my current body? Was that why I was being looked after at home rather than being hospitalized? 

Was my appearance so bad that she could not risk taking me to the hospital?

It would explain a lot, but Alice did not appear to be the culprit. 

“How could you do this, James? What…?”

I suddenly remembered those words. 

Those were her words, the same ones I heard when I first woke up as Emma. She told James those words.

I glanced at Alice, noticing she was trying to look ignorant while she was busy applying the medication cream on my back.

My mind began to spin, and I soon came up with a plausible explanation for everything that had occurred.

‘… Oh.’

I didn’t even feel like I was jumping the gun. Everything had been there for me to realize from the start.

‘Is it James?’

Everything was pointing to the guy. But even if I was wrong, it didn't matter. I wouldn't plan to spend another second in that house once I got better.