Soulswap

by Arizona Tape

  The wind answered with a silent nothing. Thought so. Talking to the dead was useless. A heap of old bones and withered skeletons weren’t really the answer to all my questions. But for some reason, our community seemed to think talking to them would give you luck. Not that it worked for me.

  “See you later, Gramps,” I muttered, waving at all the graves of my ancestors. “Thanks for nothing.”

  I traded the old gazebo for the mild chaos of the supermarket. It wasn’t my favourite thing to do, but Devon was at work. I couldn’t make him do the groceries as well. But what to buy?

  I threw a weird looking root in my basket and a handful of hot peppers. I wasn’t too fond of spicy, but Devon loved it. He snacked on the peppers as if they were candy. It didn’t make kissing him very fun, but at least it made him happy.

  Maybe I should try cooking for him tonight. If I did something simple like an oven dish, it wouldn’t be too bad, right? How much could you really mess up a casserole?

  Two hours and a blackened oven dish later, I realised the answer to my earlier question was: a hell of a lot.

  Exasperated, I threw the sponge at the wall. The stupid burned mushrooms were giving me a hard time. Why wasn’t there a little sticker that showed if the oven was in Fahrenheit or Celsius? That was just a fire hazard waiting to happen. And not my fault really.

  I glared at the rubbery pieces of charcoal and searched the fridge for something else I could try and make. I wasn’t sure why I even bothered. I couldn’t cook for shit. Looked like we were having take-out after all.

  “Stupid mushrooms,” I muttered, carefully licking one of them to see if they were really inedible. The harsh taste of ash stabbed my tongue. Ugh. Definitely not safe for consumption.

  Shit. That was nasty. In fact, it was making me a little dizzy. Blergh. Why did I lick the mushroom? Why, oh, why, Tate?

  I closed my eyes and tried to stop the spinning in my head. Damn, all this because of a stupid burned vegetable? Fuck. Now there was stabbing in my head. A thousand little needles were jabbing into my skull and the back of my neck.

  That didn’t seem right. What was going on? Would I pass out again?

  I pressed my hands against my eyes, hoping to relieve some of the pressure building. What was going on?

  Chapter 6

  The stabbing in my head stopped and, to my pleasant surprise, the pain lifted. The world a little less fuzzy than five seconds ago.

  “Fucking hell,” I muttered to myself, wondering what kind of strange mushroom I bought in the store. They couldn’t be the magic type, right? At least, why would a grocery store be selling magic shrooms?

  “Watch it!” Some random dude narrowly avoided swerving into me with his bike.

  Huh? Why was there a biker in my kitchen?

  Wait... I wasn’t in my kitchen, or even my house. I was outside. In a park. With people.

  How the fuck did that happen? Was I high?

  “Don’t lick the mushrooms, Tate,” I scolded myself. Great, now I was high. And apparently, imagining a whole park. So no dinner for Devon. Damn it. For once, I just wanted to make him a proper meal and surprise him after work. Guess we’d be eating out of a pizza box again.

  I sighed and waved my hands in front of my eyes. Wow, my nails were pretty. And polished. Did I polish them? Or was my hallucinating brain imagining them this way?

  I glanced around me. There was a lot of park. Did I really imagine all this? Even high on burned mushrooms, that seemed rather unlikely. My brain wasn’t that creative. And I didn’t feel floozy. I just felt like shit. There was a painful churning happening in my stomach and my throat was awfully dry. If this was how shrooms made you feel, I’d pass next time. This was all too nauseating. And bizarre. It all seemed very lifelike. A bit similar to the other strange dreams I’d been having.

  Maybe licking mushrooms and being a nutjob didn’t mix well?

  That being said... Why was I imagining the outside? I hated the outside. Stupid brain. Instead of hallucinating something fun, it was taking me to a crowded park. Bah.

  I stomped on a little dandelion away and glared at a kid. Why was he so happy? And loud? Stupid child. Maybe I should kick him.

  Well, screw it brain.

  I didn’t want to be here. If I could walk and move, I’d just get out. Ha!

  Surprised that I could actually leave the park, I gladly felt the pavement under my feet. Still a lot of people, but at least, no loud children.

  How long would a high last?

  I twisted my wrist to check the time. Huh. No watch. Okay then... And no engagement ring either. Hmm... Peculiar. Maybe this was some sort of subconscious state? Where there was no time and no engagement to Devon either.

  Huh. Not a bad deal...

  Maybe I wasn’t supposed to think that about my fiancé, but if I was in some sort of ‘other’ world, that was allowed. Right?

  Happily, I kicked a rock and skipped through the crowd of people. There were a lot of kids on the street, so I assumed school was out. At least, if this was the real world, that would make sense. Although that seemed a rather detailed image. But then again, this had to be a dream or an illusion. People didn’t just wake up in a different life. That only happened in animes or video games. And this was neither.

  But then where was I? Was this really happening in my head? That seemed almost as unlikely. Who had a whole world in their head? Maybe some people did, but not me. I wasn’t a writer or storyteller. Just boring old me.

  My thoughts were interrupted with the annoying blare of a song that’d been playing on the radio non-stop. Such a tacky song. Why would the sunlight hurt your eyes? And who was playing loud music in the middle of the street?

  I glared around, wondering if I could get in trouble for snapping a couple of necks. Would my subconscious make a police unit?

  The song blared again, repeating the same lyrics over and over. Even though I liked to loop my music, this was a little bit too much.

  “Who is playing this song!” I screamed, glaring accusingly at the youngster walking next to me.

  “Uummm, dude, it’s your phone?”

  “OH.”

  Confused, I felt around my sides. No pockets, because I was wearing a dress. Again. Was my subconscious trying to tell me something? And what was dangling around my arm?

  With disdain, I pulled up my arm that was carrying a small handbag. Okay, whatever the message was, my subconscious had horrendous taste.

  I dug through the contents of the purse and fished out a sleek mobile. That was definitely a more recent and more expensive model than my own. Not bad. Now we were talking.

  The phone sang again and the name ‘Sian’ popped up on the screen.

  “Sian, Sian... Sian...” I muttered, the name familiar on my tongue, but not in my head. How strange.

  Curious, I pressed the green button and brought the phone to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Ayra. How are you?”

  The name Ayra brought another memory forth and the pieces fell into place. Ooooh, Sian. Blondie. Righttttt. And then this ‘Ayra’ girl that I had still no idea what or who she was. But apparently, that was Blondie’s name for me.

  “Ayra?”

  “Yes, I’m here,” I replied, although that felt like a lie. She was clearly looking for this Ayra girl and here I was, pretending to be her. Or maybe I was. Maybe Ayra was what my subconscious liked to call herself. Who knew.

  “I’m leaving school now, and was calling to see if you needed anything from the store. Are you working late again?”

  “Uummm...” I looked back at the park I just left. Unless I was a park ranger, I didn’t seem to be hard at work. “I’m not at work?”

  “You’re not?” Blondie sounded surprised.

  “No, I’m outside the park.”

  “You are? I just passed by there. Hang on, I can meet you in five.”

  “Ummm, o-okay?”

  “What side are you on?”

  Good question.
I turned around, hoping to find some structural “I can see a church?”

  “Ooh, great. Don’t move, I’ll find you.”

  The phone clicked dead and Blondie’s voice was gone. That was disappointing. I liked her voice. Which was a strange thing to think. Why would I like a random woman’s voice to the point of wanting her to talk more to me? I hadn’t encountered that before. At least, not that I could remember? But Blondie’s voice was nice and soft, and it made my stomach flutter a little. What an odd thing to imagine.

  Hmmm... Was my subconscious gay? Wait... Was I gay?

  “Ayra?”

  I jumped up in surprise, my heart racing in my chest.

  “It’s just me.”

  “Sorry, you scared me.”

  “You okay? You look a bit confused?” Blondie asked, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

  “Yes, I’m alright?”

  “You sure? You don’t sound too convinced,” she chuckled, wrapping her arm around mine.

  “My stomach hurts a little?”

  Blondie clacked her tongue disapprovingly. “When’s the last time you fed?”

  “Ummm...” Good question. When did I eat? I couldn’t even remember if I had lunch. Did I? “Not sure.”

  “Oh, Ayra...”

  There she went again, calling me Ayra. Even though her voice kind of softened when she did that, I wasn’t sure if I liked it. But then again, it didn’t seem like a good idea to try and correct her again.

  “You should feed,” Blondie murmured softly as she pressed a soft kiss on my cheek. An unfamiliar warmth spread through me and I found myself leaning into the kiss. Into her. I was almost disappointed that she just kissed my cheek. Which was odd. I never felt that way with Devon.

  I turned my head, almost hopefully. Blondie seemed surprised, but a little spark flashed across her eyes. With a tenderness that made me ache, she pressed her lips onto mine. The same spark from her eyes travelled down to her mouth and jumped from her tongue onto mine. Within the second, a little flame flared up in the coals of my stomach. Coals I didn’t even realise I had. Surprised, I gasped against her soft lips.

  “You okay?” Blondie asked, concern spreading across her face.

  “Yes,” I whispered, disappointed she broke the kiss.

  Blondie narrowed her eyes as she studied me. “Mmmm... If you say so.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Okay,” she smiled, but I could tell she wasn’t convinced.

  “I promise, I’m fine.” Well, I was more than fine. Apart from the churning in my stomach, I felt okay. Great, almost. It was hard to believe this was all an illusion.

  I glanced at Blondie and for the first time, wished this wasn’t a figment of my imagination.

  “Want to grab a bite to eat together or shall I leave you to it?”

  What an odd suggestion? She was here, wasn’t she? Why would I go eat on my own?

  “Together sounds good?”

  “Really?” Blondie’s voice squeaked.

  “Yes?”

  “That’s... Awesome... I know a good spot.”

  I bit my lip, not sure why that seemed to excite me. “Yes?”

  Blondie intertwined our fingers and gently tugged me along. My cheeks flushed and the weird knots in my stomach spun into something almost pleasant. Whoever Blondie was, whatever she was doing, I liked it. I liked her.

  Wow. That didn’t happen often... I generally disliked people. Especially people touching me. But here I was, walking hand in hand with this woman. A woman I didn’t even know, and yet, I had no intention of running away. Not at all. In fact, I pressed myself closer into her. She felt nice against me.

  “I’ve always wanted to take you with me,” my woman whispered, tugging me into a fancy looking gastropub. A stiffly-dressed waiter greeted us at the door and I refrained from pulling up my nose. So not my scenery. If this Ayra was anything like me, no wonder she hadn’t come along yet.

  Blondie ushered us through a long row of tables filled with boring looking people. How drab. Even the curtains looked like they were having more fun. Maybe I should’ve gone off on my own. Because we weren’t just in a fancy-as-fuck restaurant, we were about to get in trouble in this fancy-as-fuck restaurant.

  “I don’t think we’re supposed to...”

  But Blondie didn’t listen. She swung the door that said “Restricted Access” open and pulled me into a dark corridor. The chatter of the dining room disappeared as we climbed two flights of stairs.

  “We’re here. Oh, and don’t worry. Everyone is like us. It’s fangs only.”

  “Ahaaaa...” Fangs only? What did that even mean? Oh no, she wasn’t taking me to some strange swingers club or something, right?

  “But I promise you, they serve the best cocktails in town.”

  Cocktails, huh? Well, that wasn’t too bad. I did like them, but I never really went out. And making cocktails for yourself, in your own house, well, that was just sad.

  “Sian, welcome back.” A brunette warmly greeted my blonde and I felt a pang of jealousy shoot through me. Not that it made sense. What was there to be jealous of?

  “Hi, Lena. Glad to be back.”

  “I see you brought a friend?” the brunette curiously asked, glancing at me.

  “Oh, this is Ayra.”

  “Ooh... The infamous Ayra. How good to finally meet you!”

  Shit, what did I say to that? “Umm... Likewise.”

  “You’re in luck, the booth just came free. Follow me, ladies.”

  Blondie squeezed my hand. There was a strange smile playing around her lips, but I wasn’t sure why. I also didn’t care. She looked happy. That was enough.

  “The usual?”

  Blondie nodded, draping her jacket over the back of her chair. “Yes, extra celery, please.”

  “Coming right up.”

  The brunette scurried off and I couldn’t help but feel relieved. Not that there was any reason for that. This Sian person wasn’t even my partner. She clearly belonged to this “Ayra”. And I was pretty sure “Ayra” was not the name of my subconscious. No, this all felt too real. It had to be real. Somehow, I was living Ayra’s life. I wasn’t too sure how it happened, or even why, but none of the other explanations made sense. So by default, this had to be the truth?

  I glanced at the woman sitting next to me. Maybe I just hoped this wasn’t just my imagination.

  “So, what do you think?” Blondie asked, her arm falling around my shoulders.

  “I like it,” I admitted, pleased we didn’t end up in the posh restaurant.

  “I thought you might, but you always declined.”

  “Sorry?” I apologised, not sure if I was. I sure didn’t know why Ayra would refuse to come here. It was lovely.

  “Two bloody marys, extra celery?”

  Did someone say bloody marys? I loved those. Oh, how great. I hadn’t one in ages! Now someone had good taste.

  “Cheers,” she smiled, holding up her glass.

  “Cheers, Blondie,” I grinned back, clinking my glass against hers.

  “Blondie?”

  Ooops... Did I say that out loud? Fuck, I meant to keep her nickname to myself. This surely would give me away. Quick, make up a good excuse. “Yes... Cause you’re blonde?” No shit, Sherlock.

  “You’ve never called me that before,” she hummed, her dark eyes peering deep into mine. Damn, that was almost a bit scary. I felt on display, or like she was interrogating me. In any case, she had done that before. Oh, she did mention she came from school. Maybe she was a teacher?

  “I thought it was nice?”

  “Hmmm... Nice, Ayra?” She gave me another penetrating stare. Yes, definitely a teacher.

  “Yes, nice.” I muttered, bringing the cold glass to my lips. I quickly took a big gulp, hoping to buy myself some time. Oooh, that was a damn good cocktail. “Mmmmmm, this is great!”

  Blond... I should really start calling her Sian, before she grilled me again. Sian’s face softened and she nippe
d at her own drink. “I thought you might like it.”

  The celery crunched satisfyingly between my teeth. Yes, this really was the perfect Bloody Mary. “I’m serious, this is really good. What’s in it?” I asked, swirling the ice cubes around with my straw.

  Sian grinned and brought her lips to my ear. “Don’t tell anyone, but the secret is that they use a combination of AB+ and O-. It makes the perfect combination, right?”

  I frowned. “Sorry?”

  “Well, it’s mostly AB+ and then just a splash of O- at the end. Not much, but it really gives the blood a different mouthfeel. Much smoother on the tongue, don’t you think?”

  Blood?

  I gulped, staring at my drink. That was a joke, right?

  “Ummm...”

  “Before this, I always thought I liked my blood to the A side, but this really changed my opinion,” Sian enthusiastically babbled away. I swirled the drink around, the coppery taste becoming much clearer on my tongue.

  Blood...

  What was going on?

  I glanced at Sian, panic rising in my gut. Why was she so casually talking about blood? Where those... Fangs? Oh my god, they were. Was my Blondie a vampire? Fuck, did vampires actually exist?

  Oh no....

  I touched my own mouth, running my finger along my teeth. Was I a vampire?

  With one last glance at the red drink in front of me, my conscious slipped. Great. Here was the dark again.

  Chapter 7

  “Tate? Tate? You okay?”

  My eyes shot open. Fuck. Where was I? Ouch, what was the stabbing pain in my head? Oh damn, another black-out. I really hoped those wouldn’t become a regular occurrence.

  “Tate?”

  Right... Someone was calling my name, my own name, and I seemed to be on my bathroom floor. I recognised the stain on the carpet. So I was back home? And then the person calling for me must be Devon.

  “Yes?” I called back, my voice shaky.

  “You’ve been in there for a while. Are you okay?”

  I pushed myself up, my muscles trembling in pain. Why did this body hurt so much? Damn it, not this body. My body. This was my life. Whatever went on with Blondie was... Well... I didn’t know what that was. But it didn’t matter. My life was here. As Tate. In this body.