Swapped

“Olivia…can you hear me?” Someone was saying in an urgent, concerned sort of voice. Not a kid, I thought, dimly. It was an adult, a female voice. I tried to focus, seeing stars. The voice was shrill, agitated, but I was still drifting away from her. I blinked and tried to clear my head and catch my breath, but it was no use. Everything was all fogged up.

“Honestly…is there no one to control these hooligans…and what about some first aid? This child is hurt?” Someone else said, rather angrily, another female. Both so close. I felt someone take hold of my arms, and help me to sit up. It was an effort, I was limp, like a rag doll, but the first voice was pulling me up, holding me. Hands all over me.

“I saw it happen…I don’t think she hit her head…it was just a rugby scrum and she got tossed around like a football, the poor little thing…Olivia, please talk to me?”

“I’m not…” I began to say, as I started to come to my senses. But then I saw myself tottering down the steps, with Gemma, who had her arm around my shoulders. I focused on my bag, the so cool Nike sports rucksack that I had nagged Mum to buy me, for Christmas, even though it was expensive and I knew we could not really afford it, but she still bought it because she was feeling guilty about Martin upsetting me. It was my absolute favourite. I took it everywhere with me. I was looking at myself walking away from the platform, with my bag on my shoulder as always. I frowned, and blinked, and could not finish my sentence. Much to my surprise, I seemed to be having an out of body experience.

“Did you hit your head, Olivia?” First voice, same concern, really close. I dragged my eyes back to her, to a face. I thought teacher. No idea why, the word just occurred to me. She was my teacher, my form mistress, I knew, from somewhere deep inside me.

“No, Miss…I don’t think so.” Not my voice. I heard myself say the words, but it was not my voice. I wondered why she kept calling me Olivia, when I was Kelly, who was walking away from the Dream Stone with Gemma, clear as day. I had called the strange lady ‘Miss’ because I knew that she was a teacher, my teacher, and that is what I called female teachers at Redstone obviously. Basic manners, and I was that sort of girl, I suppose. Naturally polite. Never openly rebellious or cheeky. But she was definitely my form mistress, my addled brain insisted, not just any old teacher. She really was my teacher. I shook my head, as if I wanted to shake off such totally ludicrous thoughts, but it did not really work that well, and I just felt so dizzy and nauseous, seeing stars through the fog.

“Scared out of her poor little wits, I would imagine…those young hooligans are completely out of control…it’s an absolute disgrace.” The second voice said, evidently angry. I stared after Kelly, for a moment, and then looked down at my arm, which the first lady was moving around as if she thought it was broken, or something. My arm was encased in a blazer, or at least the sleeve of a blazer, and I glowered at the dark blue and pale blues stripes. I looked at the cuff because it was next to the teacher’s hand, as she turned my arm, presumably waiting for me to say it hurt, and there was the end of the blazer, with just a centimetre or so of dark blue jumper peeping out, and the hint of a white blouse beneath that. No red sweater, and my blouse was a short-sleeved one. It did not make any sense. “Let me take her, Miss Cooper…I am a friend of her mothers, after all, and Olivia knows me well enough…I’ll carry her to the facilities…and see if there is any medical help here on site, just in case, because nothing seems to be happening here to help us. She is light enough, and no bones seem to be broken, do they?”

“Okay…I’ll get back to the main group…no, I don’t think there is anything broken…so it might just be shock…can you really manage her, Mrs Blackstone?”

“She is as light as a feather.” Second voice, family friend, Mrs Blackstone, said as she leaned down and put her hands under my arms. I was lifted up, just like that, whilst looking down at the rest of me, as the world swirled slightly, seeing the blue plaid skirt, and Olivia’s white knee socks. My head was spinning as Mrs Blackstone perched me on her hip. “Put your arms around me, Olivia…there’s a good girl…easy now?”

“She looks well out of it…I think that medical help might be a good idea?” First voice, Miss Cooper, suggested, as she put my hat back on my head, of all things. She pulled the chinstrap down to hold it in place, tucking the elastic behind my ears. Stupid rules, I said to myself, and it would be so unfair if she gave me fifty lines for having the stupid thing knocked off, in the rampage. “I’ll report the incident to the school, right away…normal procedure…would you be able to call Mrs Montague, Mrs Blackstone? Once you have her checked out? It might be best coming from you?”

“Yes, I’ll call Caroline…don’t worry, Miss Cooper.” Mrs Blackstone replied, as she started to walk away from the Dream Stone, carrying me away with her. I was facing backwards, being carried, looking at it, and thinking about dreams coming true. And about dark magic, but that was just as stupid as the silly hat rule was, I told myself, angrily. I loved Harry Potter as much as anyone. I wanted to have a wand of my own and to fly on a broom, but that was just a story and magic did not exist in the real world, any more than any sort of God existed, or the bloody tooth fairy or Santa Claus. “Olivia…hold on tight please…Olivia, are you listening to me?”

“Yes…Mrs Blackstone.” I murmured, putting my arm around the back of her neck, watching the colourful sleeve move as I asked it to, like it was mine. I was wearing a blazer. I had never worn a blazer in my life. She smelled of lavender.

“Don’t think I have forgotten about you wandering off, you really are a naughty little girl…if you had just remained with your group, none of this would ever have happened, and we would not all be having to deal with all this trouble?” She huffed, supporting me with one arm, whilst slipping her free right hand up under my school skirt, of all things. “And your pull-up is soaked through, as well…you know that you are supposed to come and tell me? I am going to have to have a very serious chat with your stepmother about you, young lady…once we are quite sure you are all right…your behaviour is completely unacceptable, Olivia…you are going to be in really big trouble when you get home…I promise…really big trouble…”