Ours

Modern Earth

Back when Afan had been a child, he and his friends run through fields, lost in their own little worlds, until they collapsed gasping for air. They'd shouted and laughed so much that all they'd be able to manage was to stare at the sky. Their minds would race and once their lungs had recovered, one of them would speak one of these thoughts, creating a new game. Often, it was a new premise for a game where they tried to throw a piece of wood into Darsh Reddy's garden, delighting when he appeared to chase down the neighbourhood menaces. But on a few rare occasions, somebody had started envisioning the future and they'd all chimed in with their fantasies.

Over the years, they'd come to take certain things for granted. No more sickness--aside from Ishani, who insisted a plague would wipe out humanity. People would manage to fly. Dessert could be eaten as a full meal. None of their ideas had come close to the strange reality Afan had woken up in.

Metal boxes lined up next to each other in front of stripes on concrete that suddenly went racing past when the little green man turned red. No trees for miles, just rocks and stones. People staring at little lights for no apparent reason. Bizarre clothes, some of which barely seemed to be appropriate for the weather. Bright flashing lights in shop windows that deterred Afan more than drew him in. And the sky he'd love to stare at as a boy? It was bordered by giant concrete buildings, cut far too small.

Afan stopped along with the others when the little red man appeared, but remained standing when the others crossed at green. He didn't know where he was going, nor what was going on. Last thing he knew, he'd been on a train, barely conscious. Then he'd woken up, surrounded by teenagers who used words he'd never heard and shepherded from one class to another by "friends" who looked at him funny. When asked why he was acting strange, he'd eventually said he felt sick. It had been no lie.

Based on the information he'd been able to gather, he was a girl called Simone who liked something called "musical theatre". He was even wearing a skirt, which set him on edge each times his legs brushed against each other. He couldn't help but wonder whether this was the reincarnation that some of his childhood friends had believed in, but he'd thought you were reincarnated as an infant. Besides, his past decisions couldn't have resulted in him receiving such a comfortable life, as much as it stressed him at the moment. He had friends, money and food, although whatever he'd had for lunch had tasted foreign and looked unnatural.

'Hey there, Simony.'

A short, plus-size girl with heavy eye makeup who was dressed in all-black stood opposite him. He vaguely recognised her from school, but he couldn't recall when he'd spoken to her, let alone her name.

'Good afternoon,' he said, then worried it sounded too formal. He'd heard an array of greetings today, most of which had been short and new to him.

'I'm really glad to see you. I was googling Heathers earlier and I've gotta say, it could be my sort of thing. So, who are you hoping to play?'

Afan barely managed to contain a shudder. It was her and she was drilling him again. He weighed up his options and realised he was chewing his lip. Evidently, she'd realised too because she was looking at him funny.

'Erm, uh, anyone...?' He almost winced. That sounded far too much like a question.

'Fair, fair,' she laughed. 'Got a favourite song?'

'All of them...?' he guessed.

'Name one,' she demanded.

He froze. She was onto him and he didn't know how to fix this. He couldn't fake an answer, but he couldn't exactly explain the truth either. Oh, I'm Afan Karam, I died a while back--what year was it anyway?--and am now possessing a teenage girl against my will. That sounded like the quickest route to getting labelled as a madman.