Chapter2
1133 Words
Lena’s POV
I woke up, wheezing. Holding onto reality through the pain that consumed me.
The material beneath me felt unnervingly soft. The blankets wrapped snugly around my lower body, allowing warmth to seep in. Was this what the afterlife felt like?
I blinked against the harshness of the overhead light and looked around the room. It seemed vaguely familiar, with pale walls and sparse furniture.
But that was the least of my worries.
I had just endured the worst experience of my life. It felt like a nightmare, but the pain radiating through my chest was too vivid to ignore. Slowly, I slid my trembling hand between my breasts, expecting some ethereal numbness or serenity.
Nothing.
Pain. Breath. Heat.
My lungs ached as I sucked in air.
I was alive?
But something was terribly wrong. My body felt… different. Smaller. Weaker.
Panic prickled my skin as I sat up. My hands trembled violently, and I froze mid-motion.
These weren’t my hands. They were slender, much more delicate than I remembered and pale under the light.
My pulse quickened as I raised a shaky hand toward my face. I needed to feel it and confirm the impossibility before me.
The skin was smoother. My nose was smaller, more refined. My hair, too, hung shorter, brushing just past my shoulders.
A cold dread gripped me.
I scrambled to my feet, every movement causing the room to spin around me, but I pressed on, muscles trembling, heart hammering.
My eyes locked onto the mirror across the room. My entire world crumbled before me.
The reflection staring back wasn’t mine. It was another person altogether. The face was familiar. It belonged to a girl named Anna.
And yet, I knew I was Lena.
Had my soul shifted because I was desperate to survive?
Before I could process the horror, the door burst open, and the last person I expected appeared.
“Angel!” Relief surged through me. My best friend. My anchor in this chaos.
Angel rushed toward me, her face crumpled with tears. “Anna! You’re standing on your feet—I’m so happy!” Her voice trembled, raw and shaky.
My heart clenched at her excitement.
“Angel, it’s me, Lena!” My voice cracked as I stepped closer, the frailty of this borrowed body betraying me.
Angel’s face became pale. Her eyes widened in horror, and her voice trembled as she spoke.
“Lena?” She looked like I’d punched her, her hand flying to her mouth. After a tense pause, her tone hardened. “She’s gone, Anna. Don’t you dare—”
“Angel, it’s me! I swear—it’s Lena!”
Tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision. I wanted to reach for her, to hold her and cry, but she stepped back, shaking her head violently.
“What did you just say?” Her voice was almost a plea, a desperate demand for sanity.
“It’s me.” I took another trembling step forward. “I’m Lena. I—”
“No.” Angel cut me off, voice breaking. “Lena is dead. You’re my little sister, Anna.”
My mind spiraled.
If I were dead but my soul had somehow slipped into her sister, was Anna the one who had died in my body?
“Angel, I need you to believe me! Please!” Desperation clawed through my voice. Tears streamed down my face, hot and bitter.
“No. No, that’s impossible.” Angel shook her head violently, backing away as if distance could shield her from this revelation.
“Angel, please,” I pleaded. My voice quivered, cracking under the strain.
Before she could respond, the door swung open again.
“Hey, Angel! You’re taking too long!”
Relief mixed with dread as Rose entered the room.
Our third musketeer. My closest friend.
She wore a beige top and black pants. Casual but neat. They must have been on their way out. Angel, in her blue maxi denim skirt and white crop top, looked like she hadn’t moved from this spot in hours.
“Anna’s awake. This is good news!” Rose sounded genuinely thrilled, her eyes lighting up as she approached, reaching for my hand.
Anna—Angel’s sister—had been sick since birth. I didn’t know her well; I’d been too busy with Ryker and Pack responsibilities. My chest twisted painfully at the thought of him.
“Hi, Rose.” My smile was weak and half-hearted but tinged with sincerity.
Rose tilted her head, noticing the strain. “Why the sour mood?” She glanced between Angel and me, concern knitting her brow.
Angel, voice muffled by tears, whispered, “Anna’s playing a cruel joke.”
Rose frowned. “What kind of joke makes you both cry?”
Angel's voice barely rose above a whisper. “She said she’s Lena.”
“Impossible.” Rose squeezed my hand tightly, disbelief etched on her face. “A month of being unconscious has scrambled your brain.”
“A month?” My voice caught.
“Yes.” Rose looked at Angel before returning her gaze to me. “You’ve been out for a month after that sudden fever.”
Angel didn’t respond—too shattered. She simply wiped her face over and over, as if erasing her pain.
“You both need to believe me,” I said, voice trembling but resolute.
Angel finally found her voice. “Prove it. How am I supposed to believe you’re Lena when I'm looking at Anna?”
“Yeah, prove it,” Rose echoed, stepping back to stand by Angel near the bed.
My heart pounded. This was my only chance.
“Rose, remember when I caught you... making out with Jacob?” I asked, voice sharp.
Rose gasped, cheeks flushing crimson. I’d been the only one who knew about her secret relationship with Jacob, after catching them in the act.
Angel scoffed, voice bitter. “I don’t believe you. Rose liking Jacob isn’t exactly news.” She clenched her fists at her sides.
Desperation flared. I grabbed the only proof I had left. Turning to Angel, I plunged into the truth I hoped would save me.
“Angel, when we were kids, you told me you wanted to leave the Pack. You dreamed of traveling—exploring new worlds—but you never told anyone because—”
Angel’s breath caught in her throat.
“Because I was afraid my father would call me weak.”
She barely whispered the words.
“Only you and I knew that. Tell me, how else would I know?” I wiped the tear that fell on my lip.
Angel’s face twisted with shock, disbelief and heartbreak swirling together.
“Impossible,” she breathed. “I never told anyone... except Lena.”
- Writer
