8 ○ Umbrella Academy

A Night That Wasn't

I leaned against the sink, holding on with a white knuckle grip. Get it on lock, get it on lock, I tried to encourage. I couldn't take those stupid pills without feeling completely detached from myself, without everything being a flatline. I hate it. I'm a know-it-all with the powers and I'm a zombie without them. And it's not like I couldn't personally adjust to the dulled version of myself, but Carter couldn't stand it when I was like that. My moral compass was spinning too fast to settle on one direction, only picking up more speed the further time went on.

I could hear him arriving long before I heard the sound of his car, beating my palm into my scarred forehead a few times when the engine rolled up the driveway and cut off. Returning my hands to the sink, I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself enough to slow the Grand Prix of thoughts taking place in my mind. If I could slow it down, I could manage it.

I looked up to the mirror and tried to fight the churn of my stomach, one eye an inky black, the other a slightly lighter tone compared to the other but still a dark grey. I could feel my body pulling back from myself, the ink in my eyes swirling as I struggled to stay, clawing at my own limbs in an attempt to root myself, but I couldn't make contact and my physical body didn't move apart from the uneven rise and fall of my breathing.

When I finally snapped into a body I stumbled and had to take in my surroundings. Usually, when I undergo these depersonalizing possessions, my mind travels to the closet occupiable mind, whether it be fifty miles from here or right in front of my face. The word occupiable was flexible, for I can take up residency within one's mind and then when thrown into possession, I can skip by that same person as easily as I would've Dad or Pogo on the blockers in normal circumstances.

My body instantly felt heavy when I realized what had happened, what my mind had done; thanks to the help of the reflective surfaces around the room I could see the milky white irises of Carter staring back at me. I instantly panicked, having never actually seen the possessee's eyes before now and having just possessed the one person most adamant about mental privacy.

Stumbling over his own two feet, I made my way to the sofa, crashing down on top and raking my mind for answers. The only way I knew how to break the possession was to let it pass on it's own or to hurt the person I possess enough to send my consciousness back to my own body - there wasn't a sliver of a chance in hell I'd lay a hand on Carter.

So I laid there on the couch, waiting for it to pass for hours, chanting a mental mantra of 'Get out.' I'd been so discombobulated within Carter's body that I didn't have the worry enough to check my own body, too terrified of what would happen once I'd returned to it. After what felt like a lifetime in someone else's body, I could feel myself start sinking back through the sofa, leaving me cold and unaware of the real world.

I'd hoped since my body was in close range to Carter's still, it wouldn't take too long to venture back into my own, but that was not the case. By the time my consciousness snapped back to the world, I still held a white knuckle grip on the sink, a hand on my arm and uneasiness washing over me. I was slow to meet Carter's stare, confusion settled deep within him. "Adelaide, are you alright?"

I opened my mouth to answer but my knees buckled, his arms wrapping quickly around me to ensure I'd avoided hitting my head on one of the many hard surfaces near me. Keeping his arms tight around me, he sat us on the floor, my eyes slipping closed as a pounding settled in behind them. "I'm sorry," I shakily whispered, curling my fingers around his arm. "I didn't mean to. I didn't want to. I'm sorry, Carter. I'm sorry."

●

I'd left behind a mental scar on Carter, so much so that even he noticed. Last night, he started talking in his sleep, repeating 'get out' to the point that he'd been screaming it. Part of me believed it was the reasoning behind our current predicament.