Shorts

The Observer

Winston and I were sitting at my kitchen table. It was a cold Saturday morning and we were having a cup of hot chocolate and staring out the big bay window at my father raking the leaves. It was a beautiful time of year with the leaves changing color, it was one thing that i noticed to never have changed over the millennia. It was timeless.
"So...you are serious?" Winston gives me this odd look.
I roll my eyes "Yes. I gave you so much details, why do you doubt me still?"
Winston sips at his drink "Because it seems so far fetched....like...you could have just really great research skills," he gives me another look "Or a great imagination."
I sigh.
He puts his mug down "Possession is far fetched."
"I wouldn't exactly possess the body or have complete control. Two souls would be in one body so 100% possession is impossible because there is a constant push and pull. Its more like sharing a body."
He raises his brows like hes trying to say, exactly...still far fetched.
I look out the window and watch my dad chasing the dog away from the pile of leaves he just did, but Max runs right through it. I smile. Our shepherd was funny.
Winston laughs and then turns back to me "So what's the catch? With great power, there's always a catch or there's a weakness..."
"Don't mention Kryptonite, or so help me god i'm gonna smack you."
He laughs.
I lean my elbows on the table top and push back my long curly hair, i feel slightly sad now.
 "The catch is that if i am in the body when the person dies, i will die with the person, so i must pull back to present time right before the moment of death."
Winston plays with his fingers "So...do you like...disappear? Like, if you die in the past, you never existed or something?"
I give him a sad smile "No. My soul dies in the past, my body dies in the present."
"So, you just die?"
I nod "I wont be responsive, I would be like a vegetable. Asleep or in a coma. I'm not exactly sure. I just know my body will die within 24 hours of my soul being gone."
Winston is quiet for a while. He stares out the bay window and sighs. Clearly debating whether or not this is real or just a messed up joke. He finally turns his head to look me up and down. He looks scared.
"Okay, Hannah. 1967, The Davis Massacre. Anthony Davis."
I let out the breath i was holding.
I nod.
The house is very quiet and i focus on the sounds outside.
Swoosh....swoosh...my dad's rake against the leaves gives me some sort of peace. The peace of knowing i'm safe with him so close.

I get comfortable in my chair and breathe slowly. I feel myself stretching like a rubber band, a tingly sensation comes over my body and i feel the blackness behind my eyes pulling to the center of my minds eye. Time-Jumping gives me the same sensation of stretching before a workout, there's a slight warmth and ache to my muscles. There's a loud snap and the temperature changes instantly. 

Its sticky hot. Humid. Stifling hot. I open my eyes and i'm quite small. I'm a 7 year old boy who's hands are bound behind my back with scratchy rope. It digs into my flesh and i utter a small cry. I fight for some control  to get loose. My heart aches for the child, but i know his fate and no matter what i do, it will be the same. I'm inside a huge barn and i'm not alone. There are two other children, the boy's brother and sister. One has an angry, gaping, bloody gash at her throat. She isnt moving. Its dark in here, but i can see the pool of dark liquid forming around her head and upper body. Shes face down, slightly on her side, but i can see her hands are bound behind her back as well.
I start to rub the binding around my wrists against the post next to me, i feel it coming loose. There are screams outside and the sound of people running.
"Anthony..."
I stop and look at the other child. The older brother is barely 13, but the look in his eyes shows an old soul hoping for the best outcome for his little brother. He is weak from a stab wound to his chest and the light is fading from his brown eyes. Those brown eyes remind me of Winston's.
"Go to the hidey hole, stay there. Don't make a sound, okay? Don't look at what is outside. Don't look for Mom or Dad. Just go straight to the hidey hole. They are too big to fit down there so you'll be safe."
I continue rubbing the binding for the next few minutes. The brother takes a shallow breath, chokes a little, then softly exhales... and doesn't move again.

It was another five minutes of rubbing the binding but it finally breaks. The boy's tiny legs pump as he runs out the barn door. He stops short when he sees the big farm house in flames. In horror he stands frozen to the spot. He can hear screams still and he thinks of his Mom and Dad, two loving parents...
I push for control and force him to move. Standing there will only draw attention and shorten what little time he had left. Find the hidey hole. I have a mild knowledge through his memories of where the hidey hole is so we go off towards the fields. I realize that we were noticed and a large man is running after us. There was no hope for safety, we were too weak, too small, too young...
The hatchet buried itself in my shoulder and i let out a scream of pain. My legs were kicked out from under me and i fall to the ground. I look up into my killer's eyes and gasp. The man has a wicked grin on his face, but his eyes seemed to glow in the dark.
"I thought i was killing a little boy..." he laughs "I didn't realize i was in the presence of a lady."
I push the boy's dying soul aside and in a choked voice reply "What?"
"I know its you, Hannah" His eyes seem to glint red.
I frown "Who are you? How do you know me?"
He raises a brow "Does it matter?"
I just stare at him. Who was this person? How could he possibly know that there was someone else in this body and how the hell did he know my name?
"We'll meet again...." he raises the hatchet and brings it down.
I pull back just before it meets my face. The stretching feels like a rubber band snapping back to normal, with the loud snap and all. I open my eyes and gasp for air. Every muscle in my body is on fire and i'm drenched. I'm back in the cold kitchen with my friend staring at me with terror.
"You were unresponsive! I tried everything!" Winston yells "I thought you died or something! I poured water on you and even stuck a needle in your hand. You scared the fuck out of me, Hannah!"
I'm shaking at this point.
That man...he was like me, but he seemed like he wasn't quite like me. Like he was a tainted version of what i was. Who was he? How did he know me?
My friend shakes my shoulder "Are you okay?"
I shake my head with tears in my eyes "No. I wasn't alone. There was someone else there. He knew I was there!"
Winston looks baffled "Wait, someone knew you were there?"
I wrap my arms around myself and rock a little "I never, ever, ran into someone like me...i didn't even know if there were others like me....he knew my name."
My friend stares in shock.
I begin shaking my head "How did he know me? How could he know that there was another person in the little boy?"
Fear gripped my soul. That voice...