3 Chapter 3

I dreamed that night. For the first time in so many years, I actually had a dream. It sounds so strange to hear aloud, but if you spent seven years unable to dream, and you suddenly can do just that it feels so uplifting. In the dreams you can do anything, be anyone, go anywhere and have adventures like in those cheesy kids' television shows except it doesn't have to be cheesy if you don't want it too. They can be dark and gritty. They can be deep and meaningful. They can be peaceful or violent. Dreams are a realm of possibilities, and allow you to experience anything no human could ever understand.

Once I woke, however, I felt the memories of the dream fade away from me. Was I on a boat? No, a plane. Was it a flying plane though? Who was the captain again? Was it me? I spent a good ten minutes trying to remember every detail, but the memories scattered from me like ripped leaves blowing in the wind, never to be seen again. I finally gave up. The dream felt so happy, so pure. And I'll never even know what it was. I sigh and decide to get out of bed.

Mother is already at work, as implied by the lack of smells from the kitchen, so she naturally must trust me to get ready for school on my own. I eat breakfast, brush my teeth, but as I go to grab my hoodie from the closet I feel something vibrate in my pocket. I pull out my phone and see the message on the screen,

"Amber Alert: missing child Nia Kae-" I don't bother reading the rest. I remember the detective at Mom's door yesterday. Without much thought, I finish getting ready for school and head out the door.

The bus stop was pretty uneventful. I have no doubts Billy and Marcus won't be at school today, given our last encounter. What I don't see coming is when I am already at school, and I close my locker after grabbing my backpack I see someone walk up to me. A girl, who smiles and says,

"Hi. Uh, I'm new here and I can't find my classroom." At first, I wanted to ignore her. But I feel… different after seeing her. Maybe it was her long, flowing blonde hair. Maybe it was her high-pitched, squeaky voice that perfectly complimented her cute, freckled face.

"You seem to like her." I hear Jack say, almost like a mocking older brother. I ignore him and reply to the girl in front of me.

"Uh, yes, who's the teacher?" She then shows me her printed schedule, where I can see the teacher's name. I say,

"Ah, yes that's just down that hall," I say as I point down the hallway, "and to the left, it's the first door on the right. His door has a picture of his daughter on the window. Can't miss it."

"Got it. Thank you." She says before she walks away. I feel like I should say something, but instead, I watch her walk off. Out of the blue, I feel Jack take over and ask her from across the hall,

"Hey, didn't catch your name!" She looks back at him, giggles and says,

"Jill. Yours?"

"Jeff."

"Okay, cya around." Jack lets me take back control. I feel strange. I don't think I've ever felt this way about someone else before. It feels so strange, so scary. Yet it also makes me want to feel it again.

"You're welcome." Jack abruptly breaks me out of my trance.

"Why'd you do that?" I mutter under my breath as I walk to my next class.

"Just here to help you." I hear him say with a slight cockiness in his tone. I hear the bell ring, signaling I'm late to class.

I always hated gym class. Sorry, I mean Phys Ed. Why do teachers have a stroke when you call their class by the room it takes place in? I don't care enough to dig deeper. Regardless, that's the class I had to attend after algebra, right before lunch. I hated how hungry I always was right before the class, and exercising didn't make me forget about my hunger. I walk by the cafeteria on my way to the gymnasium, and Jack pipes up,

"Why don't you ever get food? You always pass by the cafeteria on the way there and you are allowed to buy breakfast." I hear my stomach growling as Jack's words tempt me, but I remind him,

"Can't afford it. Mom only gives me enough money to buy lunch for a week. She's trying to encourage me to get a job."

"I see… let me try something." Suddenly, my feet start to angle to the left as I walk. I can't control where I walk.

"What are you doing?" I see Jack smirking in my head,

"Solving the problem." We enter the cafeteria. I ask him,

"But we won't be able to buy lunch Friday. Won't it create more problems later?"

"Trust me." He says.

Jack walks us past the lady at the register, then the long line of students who also hunger. He walks me over to the aisle with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, wrapped in thin plastic. I feel hungrier when I'm actually near the food, and I think my mouth watered. We just stand there for a few seconds. I sigh, figuring there's no point fighting, and reach my arm out to grab a sandwich.

"Not yet." He says and holds me back. I'm confused,

"Why? It's right there."

"One of them can see us." I look to the right at a lunch lady near a big oven, cooking chicken patties, if I'm not mistaken. She isn't looking at us, exactly, but she could turn her head at any moment to look at us. I suddenly realize what Jack's telling me. I whisper,

"Are you stealing! That's-"

"Now."

"Wha-"

"NOW!" He forces my hand to reach out and quickly snatch a sandwich, before putting it in my hoodie pocket. I look over at the lunch lady, who was busy taking patties out of the oven. I breathe a sigh of relief, as Jack forces me to walk away.

I know theft is wrong. I'm not an idiot. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the rush, the adrenaline. I could feel my blood pumping as I sank my teeth into the sandwich. Nobody else in the hallway paid me any mind. To them, I was just a kid who was eating in the halls while on his way to the next class. Why would they suspect I was different? That I was a thief? That I had the spirit of a killer coursing through my veins? I felt like I had gotten away, and that it was the greatest high ever.

But something was wrong.

What's wrong? I asked myself.

I looked at the sandwich in my hands, just standing there in the hallway like a lost new kid. Jack said nothing. I sighed and heard the bell ring - late for a second class today. I threw the sandwich in a nearby trash can and sprinted towards the gym.

I enter the gym during the class warm-ups. Everyone is jogging to the other side of the gym and back. I didn't miss much. My teacher doesn't even notice me walk in late as I walk through the gym into the locker room.

At least being late to class has one perk - I don't have to change clothes around other kids. I exit the locker room and see the students have the volleyball net set up and are splitting into groups. Sighing, ready for another day of pain, I walk towards the middle of the crowd. I know nobody will be in my group, so I wait for everyone to walk into their courts and the teacher to pair me with some random kid. Jack abruptly says,

"Hey, a familiar face to your left." I turn my head to face that direction and see Jill. The girl I met earlier looks even more attractive a second time - although I'd chalk it up to the fact she was wearing a gym uniform now. She was with two other girls, making a group of three - not enough for a team.

"Now's your chance," Jack suggests. I shake my head,

"Please. She probably doesn't even remember-" I turn my head in her direction again and see her jogging towards me with her friends.

"Hey. Jeff, was it? Wanna join us?" I was taken aback. I know I'm not that attractive, or interesting, and I didn't think I was particularly nice when we met. Why would she want me in her group?

"You're blowing it! Say something!" Jack screams in my head. I quickly respond,

"Yeah. Yes, that would be… fun." Jill smiles. Her smile made my heart melt. It was as if the sun's glow radiated from her face for a second or two, which would be enough to blind a normal man. She grabs my hand, pulling me towards her group of what I assume are her friends, and the teacher blows his whistle. Game on.

Jill tosses me the ball so I can serve. I look at the ball in my hands. I get flashbacks of the last two weeks we've been playing this sport. After all that time, I served the ball over the net and in-bounds about two times, every one of which was spiked into the ground by a player from the other team. I breathe in and out, then raise my arm to bump the ball. The ball hurts my fist as it slaps the bottom of it, and the ball collides straight into the net. I hear some girl giggle, and I pray it wasn't Jill. A player on the other team - a tall black kid I think is named Phil or something - serves next. He throws the ball directly into the air and slaps it on the way down. The ball grazes the top of the net and flies past a girl's head in front of me. The ball then bounces off the ground and hits me in the face on its way up. I stumble back a little bit, and some other boy laughs. I groan, then think,

"There's got to be an easier way to pass this class." Suddenly, I hear Jack say,

"My turn." Then the feeling arises. The feeling of being pulled out of the driver's seat and locked in a cage - only being able to watch what happens next. I see Jack pick up the volleyball and roll it back under the net. The same kid on the other team serves the ball the exact same way - and the result is also very similar. The girl in front of me ducks this time, and the ball goes over her head. I then watch as Jack slaps the ball with both his hands then dashes towards the net. I can't even tell if the ball went over - which I find out later that it did when I hear another kid bump it back which Jack responds by jumping about a foot higher than the net and slamming the ball back into the other team's turf.

A perfect spike.

I then feel my feet hitting the ground, which I gain control of again.

"Your turn." I hear Jack say, to which I respond by thinking,

"Actually, you wanna take over?" I see Jack smiling in the back of my mind, his shark-like teeth glistening,

"My pleasure."

The next few rallies went by without me doing a thing. I'm pretty sure the other kids were confused about where this sudden prowess came from. Maybe they didn't care. I didn't even look back on Jill for a while, until I heard Jack say, out loud with my voice,

"Hey, uh… Mr. Walter, can I go to the bathroom." I hear Jack panting in-between his words. I'm pretty sure he's faking it, but I can't tell. The teacher nods, and he walks us out of the gym towards the boys' bathroom.

"What're you doing, Jack?" I ask in our brain, to which he responds,

"You're tired."

"What? But I don't feel tired." Soon after, Jack gives me back control. I feel my control returning slowly, bit by bit. First my legs, then my arms, then my whole body. The feeling of exhaustion creeps into me until I can barely stand it. It takes all my strength to avoid collapsing.

"How… am I... so… wasted?" I gasp for air in-between words. Jack explains,

"The soul controls the brain, the brain controls the body. Pain is felt in the body, which is transferred in the brain, which is felt in the soul. But since it's not your soul in control, you feel nothing until you get back to the driver's seat." I rest my body against a wall. Jack continues speaking,

"When I'm in control, we can feel no pain. That's why when Billy stabbed you, you felt nothing. Neither did I." I start walking again, slow as a sloth, and finally, I am able to form words again,

"So what, you were able to do that by…?"

"Pushing us. Forcing our body to work beyond its capabilities. Like overclocking a phone. But when you get back in control…" At this, I felt the pain go away as Jack took control of my body back and helped me walk to the bathroom. He didn't bother finishing his sentence. I already got the message.

Upon entering the bathroom I go to the sink, turn the water to the coldest setting, and splash water into my face. Normally I like the chill of cold water, but with Jack helping remove the pain of my aching muscles, it just feels agitating. After soaking myself, I look up into the mirror spanning the wall. Upon a split-second glance, I trip backward. I take several quick and rough breaths while I lay on the ground below the sink. Were my eyes… red? What happened to the brown? And was there a cut on my cheek? I think I saw some strands of black hair with my normal brown, too. I slowly rise to my feet, gripping the counter for support, and take a look in the mirror again. Everything seems in place now. My brown hair drooped over my forehead, sweat covering the rest of my face, and I was staring into my own eyes in the mirror for the longest time. They're still brown alright.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" Jack abruptly says.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

I return to the gymnasium, continue playing volleyball, but this time, I play with my own power. Jack doesn't step in - probably because he's too busy preventing the pain of my aching body. Surprisingly, I'm actually able to hit the ball a few times now. It seemed that Jack's intervention actually helped me learn to do it myself. Was it a new discovery about muscle memory? Was Jack still controlling me without knowing? I didn't think too deep about it. I simply enjoy the game.

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