In which a psychopath somehow finds herself in the body of a young empath, and revels in the addiction of feeling emotions.
It only takes her two years of understanding her new abilities, and someone shortening her name in passing, to understand tha...
She felt like drowning, or like a boat being thrown between waves without land in sight. She had a feeling she was dreaming- a nightmare maybe. She didn't have many of those.
She didn't quite know if it was fear or apprehension that consumed her, but then again she was never quite sure what she felt. Descriptions worked better- realistic in the way that feelings weren't, her imagination wasn't as stunned as the majority of her emotions. they always felt quiet, only making noise in extreme situations
A repeating sound woke her up, more annoying than her usual alarm. She stretched her arm in the direction the sound was coming from, touching it would keep it quiet for five extra minutes of sleep.
She tried to grab her phone, but nothing felt like it. She kept hitting something metallic and cold, it didn't feel right. Frustrated she kicked the blanket that was keeping her warm away, and huffed in annoyance as she opened her eyes. She wanted that alarm off, now!
She looked and instead of finding her phone, she found a metallic alarm clock. She frowned for a moment staring at the thing, she didn't have one of those. It took a second to glace around the room she found herself in, because it definitely wasn't her room. She saw another bed on the other side of the room, empty and recently made. The room was separated into two living spaces, reflected into one another. like a dorm room?
At the end of her bed was another door, semi-open. It was easily to notice it was a private bathroom. Her side of the room had no decorations, everything plain and simple. The other side had a few posters on the wall with what appeared to be bands, and a few personal photos to make it homey.
She kept trying to understand what was happening, but reason was failing her. Not one to loose her marbles, she forced herself up and walked around the room for a few minutes trying to find a clue as to where she was. Other than a photo of a family she didn't recognize on the other side of the room, nothing else stood out.
She decided to wash her face, and moved along to the bathroom. It was a small thing, but It was well illuminated. She turned on the water, and washed her face with icy water to force herself awake. As she finished she looked up, staring at the mirror. A pale face with wide eyes looked back at her.
She wanted to scream, but she didn't. She had too much control for such a reaction, even if the last thing on her mind right now was control. Because nothing could control this, whatever this was.
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Her blonde and straight hair and shifted into a dark brown with curls- dear lord she had a fringe and brown? Such a boring color. Her blue cold eyes turned into a green-ish hazel color. And her face? Her face wasn't her face. This one had softer face lines than she had, younger as well.
She was in such an internal panic that she barely noticed the headache until it got too much. She grabbed her forehead, trying to keep it in, as he knees buckled under the pressure. She fell on the cold floor of the bathroom, hands still putting pression on her skull, to ease the pain.
She came to soon after, or maybe a long time had passed but she hadn't noticed. She grabbed the sink, propelling herself up. She looked at the mirror again, making sure it was real before letting out laugh that would sound strange or broken to anyone else.
She had just remembered her name, Willow Graham. Well, the best way to put it would be her new name because she somehow ended up in another body, in Louisiana, in the bloody 90's.
Willow was starting college tomorrow, she was doing a degree in Criminal Justice. Her father had just passed away two weeks prior, she was alone. She was also poor as a pauper, growing up in a trailer in the New Orleans Bayou while fishing to survive (while trying not to be eaten by alligators and leeches).
She was smart, and got a good scholarship. However, what made her different, unique in her own way, was the ability to feel what other's feel- an empath. Not that the girl had appreciated it, no - to her this power was a curse. Made her nervous, made her feel too much, made her see people for what they were. She didn't accept the truth that she saw. afraid to see to much, afraid to show to much
As she processed all that; she could barely contain the pure, genuine, happiness that she was feeling. A new life, no family to burden her and her wish granted- she could keep being unique but she could also feel. With this she would be able to do more than observe and reflect, with this she would know. Her mask would never have a crack to be exploited, instead she would be the one doing the exploiting.
instead of looking for a drop of water in the desert, she would be able to conjure water anytime she wanted while calmly crossing the dunes. she could drink it if she was thirsty, or she could create a lake big enough to reflect the image of the moon in the sky
She recalled anything she had on empathy and empaths, but the information that she had was mostly scientific and strictly theoretical. An empath could easily put himself into another person's shoes, which while yes it matched the memories she had just recovered from the previous owner of the body, didn't explain looking somebody in the eye and just knowing shit. In fact, it felt like something out of a fantasy novel.
She recalled the time she had read the Twilight Saga in high school - which had been a pain to accomplish in itself - there was a vampire in the story who had the ability. He could feel emotions, and manipulate them to his bidding. Although if memory serves correctly, he was also the most prone to bloodlust because of said power. double-edged swords must be handled with caution
This thing needed to be trained, controlled and sharpened like a knife. The previous Willow had been weak, she wasn't so easily bent by power or frightened by it.
"Hey, are you coming out of the bathroom? I need to shower!" A female voice called out, knocking at the door. It was the dormmate, Clara. She recalled they had meet the previous day, barely even a greeting. Well, it seems a test subject just volunteered.
She cast a final glance at the mirror, making sure her mask was in place and opened the door.
"Hey Clara, sorry about that." Willow said, her face forced into genuine apology. Meanwhile, she was looking at girl in front of her trying to dissect her feelings. "I'm on my period, you know how it is."
The first thing she felt was annoyance and slight frustration, she recognized the emotions easily as she had felt them before, but it felt so strong in comparison to her own. It felt acidic, like a cold lemonade without sugar.
Then as she mentioned her period, she felt understanding still tainted with annoyance. That particular emotion was new. Understanding was the base of empathy, she wondered if pity felt similar. Mixed with annoyance it reminded her of a rainbow, or more precisely, sun with rain at the same time.
"Yeah it's fine." Clara replied, passing her and entering the bathroom.
Willow let a smirk touch her lips as soon as she was alone in the room, the girl had left the room but she could still pull those emotions to her now that she knew how it felt.
It was time to create a new mask, Willow Graham would be something else.
