A New Body - original

5- Kate

    A loud banging vibrates through the room. It rips her from her sleep, startling her so much that she nearly rolls right out of bed. Kate pushes her hair back from her face as her eyes adjust to the light of the morning.

    For a second she thinks she dreamed the noise, until another series of knocks breaks out. It's coming from her left, the window right by her desk. Kate has no idea who it could be, besides maybe Nadia. But why wouldn't she just use the front door?

    She pads over cautiously, throws the curtain open, and chokes on her breath.

    Phoebe is standing on the other side of the glass. She's still wearing her costume, except now she's covered head to toe in dark red blood. Just like Carrie at Prom. She's alarmingly pale, as if she hasn't been in the sun in decades. Twigs and leaves cling to her dirtied hair, and her chest heaves like she just got done running a marathon. Seeing her expression is even worse. She looks downright terrified.

    "Jesus Christ, Phoebe? Are you okay?" Kate shoves the window open, still in shock.

    "Can I come in?"

    She doesn't say anything in response, she just extends her hand and helps Phoebe crawl through the opening. Her body temperature is glacial, which scares Kate.

    What if she's hurt? Why did she come here, and why isn't she at a hospital?  

    Phoebe straightens up, still hanging on to Kate's shoulder for support.

    "Are you okay?" She echos, examining the girl's body for wounds.

    The blood all seems to be dry, which hopefully means she's not in imminent danger. But she's so cold, so pale and shaken up.

    "Physically, yeah." Phoebe pants.

    She gently untangles herself from Kate's arms and takes a few steps into the room. Her eyes wander around, skipping over each of the posters and books and stupid trinkets. It feels personal. And also deeply embarrassing.

    "This is exactly what I thought it would be." She says, fingers gently skimming the old vinyls lined up on the desk.

    "Uh...what?"

    "I pictured your room on the way over here. I was curious. And I was also right."

    Kate can hear a small smile in her voice. It makes her cheeks warm, which is so not the point of this interaction.

    "Phoebe, what is going on? What happened to you?"

    The girl turns back around, her grin fading.

    There's an uncertainty in her eyes, and she shifts from one foot to the other. 

    "I promise that I'll try and explain, but I have a favor to ask first."

    "You name it."

    "Can I use your shower?"

    The pipes groan as the water runs. Kate can hear it as she sits on her bed, fiddling with her hands. She tries not to think about the fact that Phoebe is in there, using her bathroom, her shampoo.

    The past twenty four hours were surreal, and somehow it feels like the chaos is only beginning.

    Every possible scenario has crossed her mind. An evil prank. Murder. Ghosts—which, yes, is a silly thought. Kate yearns for answers. She's worried sick.

    The shower squeaks to a stop. Right on que.

    She grabs the sweatpants and shirt that are sitting beside her and approaches the connecting room. Her hand goes up to knock.