It's All in the Eyes (Jelsa/The Host)

Pretend

What's wrong?

I winced, shuddering as I heard the other voice in my mind. The voice that wasn't mine. My eyes were closed and my body felt like lead.

Why isn't anything working? Why can't I take control?

The voice was still speaking. I could feel every pulse of blood pound through my head. I hated the feeling of not being alone in my mind. It made me feel . . . crazy. But wasn't this how it always had been? Wasn't this normal? Somehow I figured it wasn't. I searched my memories, but only came up with blanks.

You! Why are you still here? It wasn't supposed to be like this. They told me that you would be gone. That I would have complete control over my new body and your memories!

I ignored the voice. Listening to it made my head pound. I searched my memories again, hoping to find out something about myself. My name. That was something I knew. I was Elsa. But that was all I had.

"Why isn't she awake yet?" a worried male voice asked.

"Be calm," a female voice responded. "She's getting adjusted to her new body. This is perfectly normal."

Let me out! the voice screamed in my mind. I want my old body back! I want to be out of here! Pitch Black Night Sky, help me!

Shush! I thought back, putting as much force behind the message as I could. I need to think.

"Song Of The Young Birds?" the male voice asked as I felt a light touch on my arm. "Are you alright? Speak to me."

I'm right here! the voice in my head cried, a sob hidden within the words. I'm right here, trapped!

I opened my eyes. I was in a bright room lying on some sort of bed. A young woman was standing a short distance away in hospital scrubs. Standing beside me was a young man. He had spiky black hair, pale skin, and hazel eyes. Both the young woman and the man shared a single characteristic, a purple ring of color around their pupils. I made a split second decision.

"I'm here," I said. The man smiled in relief.

"Oh, Song," the man said happily, "you had me worried."

Liar! the voice in my mind, the real Song, screamed. Pitch! I'm here Pitch!

"I'm fine," I began, hesitating slightly. Pitch sensed my concern.

"But . . ?" he asked.

"I don't have access to any memories," I told him. The young women frowned.

"It might take time," she said. "The transfer can be hard to handle for some."

You call this hard? Song demanded. I've completely lost control! I'm trapped, locked away from my dear Pitch . . .

Quit talking, I replied mentally. I don't want you here any more than you want to be.

You wait, Song seethed. You just wait. I'll make you tell them the truth. They'll realize that you're defective, and then everything will be right. I'll be back with my dearest Pitch . . .

"Let's go home," Pitch suggested, helping me stand. I felt wobbly. "I'm sure after some rest you'll feel fine."

"Yeah, probably," I lied. We left the room and walked down a sterile hall. I glanced in a mirror as we passed. My platinum blond hair was in a loose braid over my shoulder. My eyes were a sparkling blue, all except for a purple wing around my pupil. For some reason that made my heart sink. That purple ring was bad. It meant something awful.

"Everything will be alright, my Song," Pitch told me, brushing a kiss against my cheek. I felt a shiver along my spine.

I was about to play the most dangerous game of pretend in my life.