Some Body

Paper what?

Nora

Sam had been texting me stupid questions about family dinner but I couldn't bring myself to answer his texts.

Ever since that run-in with Milly, I'd felt depressed.

Didn't she believe me because the situation was so unbelievable or was it because I lied to people all the time?

It's not like I wanted to lie to people or fool them. I blamed my big imagination.

Whenever someone asked me a question, my brain would automatically make up an amazing story that would beat boring reality. And then it would get harder to say the truth because it seemed so underwhelming.

I've had this feeling ever since I was a kid.

It would start with stories how I found a litter of puppies and took care of them with my dad. Or I'd tell my friends that I'd met an actual vampire at the cemetary. Those could get outrageous but if I held onto them tight enough, a part of me would actually start to believe them.

Once I got older, I realised I needed to tone it down.

My lies got more subtle and more intricate. Believable.

How I found a message in a bottle or how I saw a thief running away from a robbery. How I found out I had a great-aunt that I'd never heard about or how I had an online boyfriend who adored me but then we broke up because he cheated on me.

I can't even recall all the lies I've ever told. They never hurt anyone.

Milly had caught me in a lie a few times but I always managed to classify them as jokes or pranks.

And no, I wasn't a pathological liar. I just liked the feeling or altering reality. I could stop at any time but there'd never been reason to stop before.

Until now.

 I felt stuck.

In this situation. In this body.

We didn't know how to reverse it. We had no fucking clue whatsoever. We didn't talk about that because it scared us immensely but it was reality. We just didn't know.

If there was nothing in my blood test, there would be no other solution.

We'd scoured the internet but only found stupid 'Freaky Friday' stories.

The fact that we were dancing around reality like that meant we were doing the same thing as I always did. Altering reality. Avoiding reality.

Sticking your head in the sand and making up another story felt safer than dealing with the cold harsh truth that there was a real chance we'd never have our own bodies again.

How did I cope with a reality that was even crazier than my imagination?

I didn't feel like doing anything today. When I got back home I'd been on a cusp of having another panic attack but it didn't completely break through.

Sam's tricks helped me with that.

I needed to move soon. Sam's parents had told me they were going on a date and I needed to watch his little brother.

It was okay. I'd just create a reality where I was happy and looking forward to entertaining Flint. Other days, I would've loved it. This day, not so much.

As if on cue, Flint ran into my room and jumped on the bed, nearly falling on me.

"What are we doing today?" he asked happily. I guessed the little kid had missed quality time with his brother. I hadn't really been the best brother.

"What do you feel like doing, kiddo?" I asked as I started to tickle him. It made him giggle and I didn't stop until he yelled to do so.

"I want to make an airplane model!" he yelled while he jumped next to me. His glasses askew because of his enthusiasm. He was possibly the cutest little kid ever.

"You mean you want me to make an airplane model and you want to watch as I do so?" I raised my eyebrow and I could tell by the look on his face that it was indeed what he meant.

"Yes," he said with a sheepish smile.

"Orrr we could actually do something together? We could make paper maché animals?" I suggested.

"Paper what?" Flint asked.

"Ohh we're doing that! It's so much fun, trust me!" I said and almost immediately he got carried away with my enthusiasm.

I got up and Flint followed me like an excited puppy around the house. I was scouring the place for wallpaper powder but couldn't find any. I guess some flour would suffice this time.

I grabbed some old newspapers, flour, water and a bowl.

"Are we baking cookies?" Flint asked hopeful. As if he finally figured out what we were going to do.

"Nope! Here are some cardboard boxes, you can draw animal heads and I'll cut them out for you later," I told him and without questioning, he did so.

I showed him some options on the internet so he'd have an idea of what I meant and then he got really enthusiastic. Apparently, it was a great idea.

Flint was having the time of his life getting dirty and dipping newspaper strokes in the paste. We had a nice working station going on where he'd dip, I'd remove the excess paste and he'd stick it on the cardboard animals.

We made a bear, cat, dog and bunny but was pretty bummed when I suddenly remembered how long these things had to dry before we could paint them.

I tried drying it with a hairblower and put them next to a heater but it was too slow.

"How long do we need to wait?" Flint asked for the fifth time.

I needed to distract the kid so he wouldn't get antsy. Luckily he wasn't the kind of kid to get a tantrum.

"You know what! I'll make dinner first and then it should be dry enough," I opted. I was hungry anyway.

"Make? You mean order?" Flint asked and for a second I thought he was dissing me but then it dawned on me that Sam probably didn't know how to cook.

"No! The magnificent chef Sam is gonna make you food!" I exclaimed and rummaged through the cupboards while I was looking for the ingredients to make mac and cheese.

"Mom said we can't do anything dangerous," he shot back. Damn, that was definitely a diss.

"So... you don't want mac and cheese? Fine, I'll guess we can eat brocolli and other vegetables," I shrugged.

I watched Flint's face from going from happy to disgusted and I knew my plan had worked. Shortly after, I was boiling water for the pasta and felt a little smug that my mac and cheese plan had worked.

The moment I put his dinner in front of him, he seemed a little confused that I had made it. He waited until I took a bite before he started on his own food. What the hell had Sam made that almost poisened his brother? Kids weren't that paranoid by nature.

After one cautious bite, he chomped down the rest as if he'd been starving.

The paper maché animals hadn't dried completely but we decided to try anyway. We started painting and it seemed like it was going well until the paint got distorted by the wet paste. Some patches were dry and turned out nice but other patches looked a little weird.

We decided we liked them anyway. It was a combination of hard work and lack of patience.

Apparently, having some time with Flint was exactly what I needed to lift my spirits.

That feeling went away the moment I read Sam's text.

I know you're ignoring me but I need you to come over NOW.