Shifted [z.m au]

II. Changing Wall.

◾ chan·ging wall

noun:
/ chānjing wôl /

a stone structure that encloses or divides an area of land to make different.

-

I started walk down the sidewalk for a couple minutes when I suddenly bumped into someone and to my surprises it's Zayn.

He looks like a mess but not messed as I am, I guess. I frowned when he gave me an embarce as if the last time he didn't make my life miserable. I didn't hug him back, my hands still on their side.

"I'm sorry, Rena. I shouldn't do that to you." he mumured in my shoulder.

I slowly to hug him back, I was suddenly overcome with emotion. Zayn and I have been best friends since we were in preschool and we decided to starting relationship.

"I hate myself so much." I blurted out. Hot tears ran down my cheeks.

I can tell Zayn was so understanding. So smart and he knew me so well. He slowly rubbed my back to calmed me. We had no secrets from each other. None at all.

"My life—It's all falling apart today." I told him. "Everything. I-I just feel so out of control. So miserable."

"My life, too." Zayn whispered back. "Such a bad time. Me too, baby. Me too."

I let go of him and took a step back. I wiped the tears from my cheeks with both hands and stared at him in surprise. "You too?" I choked out. "You're having a bad time, too?"

He nodded. Then his eyes flashed. Like green fire. "But I have an idea." he whispered. "I know what we can do."

"An idea?" I repeated, staring back at him. "Zayn, what kind of idea?"

His eyes lit up again. His face glowed with excitement. "Let's shifted bodies." he said.

***

I followed Zayn, felt a tingling excitement as we walked hand in hand. I felt charged, as if an electrical current circled my body.

Was he serious? Did he mean it? Were we really going to shifted bodies?

The ground grew dark, then light again as clouds rolled rapidly over the sky, blocking the sunlight, then allowing it to beam down again. The changing light gave everything an unreal feeling.

I told Zayn about my day, about my unhappiness. About Mr. Raymond and the science report. About my parents, smoothering me. Not letting me breathe.

He nodded, understanding. He didn't need to reply.

He wore a black jeans, and sneakers. His grey sleeveless T-shirt revealed his tattoos, I actually like it.

Our shoes crackled over dry, dead leaves from the winter.

The sun faded and the old trees over this city darkened. Then they flared brightly again, like someone turning the brightness control on the TV.

I shuddered as we stopped to stare up at the old Tramp Mansion. I'd heard so many creepy stories about the burned-out old house, about this street.

"Why don't they just tear it down?" Zayn demanded, squinting through the now-bright sunlight. "It's such an eyesore!"

"Maybe they're afraid to." I replied in a hushed voice.

I gazed across the street at the old cemetery with it's ancient, crooked gravestones jutting up from the ground like broken teeth.

Beyond the cemetery stretched the Linga Street. Ancient maple and birch trees, unfurling their fresh spring leaves, reached over the street, tangling together, like dozens of arms.