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Orange Juice

Sometimes our pores contain other people.

19
Orange Juice
A Touch of the Void

My name is...

Well, why does it matter, really? You'll fill in the blank with the first person who comes to mind if I don't tell you. Maybe I'll be a Jill, or an Alex, or an Aaron. Maybe I won't be anything at all.

I don't think I'd mind that, given recent developments. You know, otherworldly experiences always sound so much nicer when they're penned out and stretch a nice young adult novel, maybe twenty chapters' worth. I think this is far more than twenty chapters. And it's harder to ignore, given that it comes from within.

Have you ever had the feeling that just being around someone makes your skin crawl? I'm sure you have. But have you ever focused on it further? Has that little pinprick ever turned into a set of fangs, biting at your flesh from the inside, trying to rupture a large enough hole so that it can climb out and devour whoever woke it up?

...Whoa. That got dark. Sorry about that.

Well, something did crawl out of my skin, and I'm not really sure if I'm me anymore. She talks very loudly. I don't know if the person who spoke to my mother this morning, or who mixed orange juice with their toothpaste, or made fun of their little sister, was me. I don't know if I'll know anytime soon, either.

For now, I just sort of...float. My bed was always nicer when I could actually lie on it. I've just been floating here, on a sort of little black pillow, for a long time. The part of me that read too many editions of Cosmo is worried that all this being sedentary is causing me to gain weight. My love handles already have love handles, though, so it'd be difficult to make much of a stir.

She sits next to me sometimes. She makes good tea and sings my favorite childhood tunes, but I'm frightened because when she bears her teeth, they're no longer flat and human. They're not mine.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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