I’ve lost count of how many days I’ve been trapped in this girl’s body. Since I’ve taken over her life. I feel bad because if she's dead, it’s my fault. All of this is. I knew I had needed a change, but this was a bit drastic.

As I move past the mirror in her room, I see something. It can’t be. I see myself. I stop and stare at me. Then, the me in the mirror holds up a piece of paper with text on it written in handwriting that wasn’t mine:

“I think this body belongs to you.”