Imprint Page 4

  It sounded so unrealistic, like someone’s warped fantasy, but at the same time a part of him was tempted to believe this explanation. It made sense that there would be a part of humans that was more than just electrical impulses from the brain, a part of humans that could live on. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind of the million buzzing questions and thoughts that battered against his skull. “I still don’t understand, though,” he whispered. “Say, hypothetically, that all of what you just said is true. What does it have to do with me? Who are you?”

  The other’s eyes seemed to cloud over again, as if in thought or remembrance. “That’s what I am; an ‘Imprint’. I died four years ago, when I was sixteen. I’ve been wandering since, looking for a way to live again. To do the impossible and come back from the dead. And I found my solution: swapping places with you.”

  Sean floundered, only able to force one word out. “How?”

  “Surely you noticed,” it said, burgundy eyes dark and intense. “Weeks before that car accident, how you felt like someone was watching you, and those strange dreams you had. That was all me. I’d been following you around, and then the perfect chance came along. You got hit by that car and fell into a coma. Your life force was barely there and your defences were gone; it was the perfect opportunity. I managed to separate your soul from your body while the bonds holding them together were at their weakest, and then I took its place.”

  Sean blinked again, sluggish mind struggling to catch up. “So you’re really someone else, in my body? You basically hijacked me?”

  “Yup. Glad you finally got it.”

  In its own completely unbelievable way, it made sense. Sean felt light-headed, a strange contrast to how heavy his head had felt before. He was almost certain now that this was not just a nightmare. It was too real, too complex. There was actually someone else inhabiting his body, as if it could be rented out like a house. How screwed up was that? He let out a sigh and shook his head in frustration. “Why me, then?” he asked. “Why did you choose me, out of anyone else in the world?”

  “It was luck that I found you. Something like this happening is very rare, almost impossible because most of the time a soul is only compatible with its own body, but this is a special case.” A hollow laugh. “I felt it when I first started following you – I felt stronger and more alive around you. It made me want to live again. We’re connected somehow, and that’s the only reason this worked.”

  Sean nodded numbly, accepting this information wordlessly and turning his unfocused gaze to his clammy, pale hands. Shouldn’t they be translucent? “So it’s true then. I’m dead?”

  “Not dead, but not alive either. You’re stuck somewhere in between.”

  “So I’m a…bodiless soul.”

  “An Imprint.”

  “And what about you?”

  “Ex-Imprint, I guess.”

  “Who are you?” Sean asked.

  “When I was alive, my name was Drew. But from now on, I am you.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  Suddenly, a quiet knock came from the door. The corners of Drew’s – at least this thing that was infesting his body now had a name – mouth turned upwards into a twisted grin, that vaguely reminded him of a jack-o’-lantern. “Really?” he whispered. “Then why don’t you see for yourself.”

  Before Sean had time to protest, to run, the door on the other side of the room creaked open to reveal a shock of unruly dark hair. Hayden entered the room, carrying a tray laden with soup and bread.

  Drew skilfully feigned sleep. Balancing the tray precariously on one hand, Hayden made his way across the room to the bed. Sean felt a streak of hope, which quickly grew and engulfed his thoughts. Finally, there was an end to the madness. Everything was going to be okay now – his big brother was here and, despite the normal sibling rivalry between them, Sean respected him. Sean trusted him. With a relieved smile he frantically picked his way across to Hayden and called his name. Hayden made no response, didn’t even acknowledge the call. Instead he just set the tray down on the table, smoothing the bed covers. Was this some sort of sick game? Why was he ignoring him? Sean shook his head and tried again. When he received no response, he let out a growl of irritation and leapt forwards to grab his brother’s bony shoulders, to try and rattle some sense into him.

  It came as a surprise, therefore, when his hands never made contact and instead simply passed straight through Hayden’s shoulders.

  He couldn’t feel anything. His body was numb, unfeeling; as good as dead. He couldn’t feel the rough, frayed fabric of Hayden’s sweater smothering his fingers, or the ‘misplaced’ sock he was treading on beneath his toes, or…he tried again. He screamed out the name with all of the energy he had left to muster and his hands turned into fists, his own voice reverberating in his ears. He yelled until he should have been hoarse. And all the while, Hayden was watching the still figure in the bed as though Sean was invisible, as though he couldn’t hear him, as though he didn’t exist.

  It hit him then, properly and with the force of a wall of water, crashing down on him and condemning the world to silence. His world might as well be silent from now on. His own brother, and probably all of his friends and family, didn’t acknowledge his existence anymore. He tried to stop Hayden as the older boy turned to leave, hoping desperately that this wasn’t simply the end, that he might sense his presence or something equally ludicrous. He blocked the doorway to try and stop him. But Hayden, with his gaunt, wearied eyes that could normally see through anyone, simply walked straight on, straight through him without blinking.

  There was silence after the door closed; a stifling silence that seemed to stretch on for days and lingered in the tense air even after it was broken. “He didn’t see me,” Sean murmured. His voice was glass shattering and echoing; a vain attempt to fill something that was empty.

  From the bed there was a shudder, and then stillness. “I told you, didn’t I? Only other Imprints can see you now. Although I’m an exception, obviously.”

  In that moment, Sean wanted nothing more than to feel pain. He wanted to hit his head against the wall and feel the resulting throb, he wanted to scratch at his skin until he drew blood and could feel the sting; something to prove to himself that he was still alive. Yet when he tried to test out this theory he still felt nothing, just an endless numbness that was suffocating him into madness. He turned to peer at the human-shaped lump in the bed and an irrational anger flared inside him. It scorched and combusted and devoured any of the common sense he had left. That lump, that thing, was the reason for all of this. He lunged at the bed, lashing out fiercely in a flurry of flailing limbs, but found himself passing straight through the bed to the other side.

  “It’s not going to work, you know, so give it up,” came a haughty voice. “You’re not physically alive; you can’t touch me let alone hurt me.”

  Sean ignored the words, fear and anger still coursing through his body like poison. “Just GET OUT!” he roared. “Get the hell out of my life and just…I want things to be normal again.”

  “Normal? From now on, this is normal.”

  Sean glared, eyes boring into the back of Drew’s head. “Do I have to pay you a ransom or something? Just give me my body back, you bastard.”

  The other only smirked wryly. “Sorry, Sean, but that’s not possible. I’m a permanent resident now and you’ll have to deal with that.”

  “No –”

  “There’s nothing you can do to change this. You can only accept it. C’est la vie, right?”

  And Sean, in one wild moment of hysteria, remembered why he had dropped French all those years ago.

  Chapter 5: In not-so-loving memory of

  Even though he had only ever imagined it to be endless nothingness, he had always secretly hoped that death would be a little more glamorous than this. Sure, he wasn’t asking for perpetual youth or pearly white gates or an ‘afterlife’ where beautiful people sat around drinking non-alcoholic cocktails for the rest
of eternity – but really, this was simply disappointing. It made life suddenly seem a lot more preferable. Maybe that was the point. Maybe death was simply a label given to the time in which people were shown everything they missed out on in life and how they should have appreciated it when they had the chance. God, if he existed, had a twisted sense of humour.

  He was pretty sure he had spent a lengthy amount of time standing in the middle of the room in an almost catatonic state. He couldn’t sit down, because he could never manage to make contact with the seat. It didn’t matter though. His legs never ached, even after hours of being stationary. It was a surreal experience. The body in the bed had drifted in and out of sleep continuously during the night and Sean was unsure whether to be afraid of Drew or not.

  “How long am I going to be like this?” He finally decided to break a record eight hours of silence.

  Drew gave what sounded like a grunt of annoyance. “I don’t know. Don’t worry, you’ll fade away eventually though,” he mumbled sleepily, as if this reminder was supposed to calm him somehow.

  “I’m what?”

  “You got a hearing problem or something?”

  “I heard you the first time –”

  “Then why the indignant squawk?”

  Sean bristled, flexing his hands, wishing more than anything to cause some kind of pain to this parasite. “I’m sorry,” he said calmly. “Should I not be just the tiniest bit worried that I’m going to fade out of existence?”

  “Eh, you’ll get used to it soon enough. Fact of death.” He didn’t even have the decency to open his eyes. He acted like he was talking about the weather: the forecast for today is cloudy with a 100% chance of getting kicked out of your body by a psychotic dead person.

  “This is crazy,” Sean muttered, and started to pace again subconsciously.

  Yawn. “I thought you’d already gotten over that phase.”

  “Well, how long do I have?”

  “Until what?”

  “Until I don’t exist anymore.”

  Drew cracked one dull eye open to watch the pacing with a bored expression. “Quite a while I’d say. I’d been wandering around for four years. Met someone a few months ago who’d been around for seven already. Depends on the person, I think, but ten at the most.”

  “You met someone?”

  There came a muffled snort. “What? You think I’m the only person that’s ever died?”

  “Oh.” He stopped pacing. “How can I get my body back?”

  “You can’t. There’s only one way; the same way I got into your body.”

  Sean swore loudly, the string of profanities erupting from his mouth in sheer desperation. “This is crazy,” he said again, as though if he said it enough times things would make sense again. But hell, he was already way past that stage. This situation was more confusing than females.

  “How many more times are you going to keep repeating that?” Drew asked.

  “You’re a selfish bastard,” Sean said simply.

  “I know.”

  “You’re a thief, in the worst way possible.”

  “Keep going.”

  Sean was incredulous. “You don’t feel anything?” he questioned. “No guilt or -”

  “Save me the lecture. I’m selfish, okay? Everyone’s selfish. It’s called human nature.”

  Sean opened his mouth angrily to protest – he still had more to say, he still wanted a chance to rage and shout and scream. He had a right to, dammit. He’d lost his whole life in a matter of 24 hours. However, at that exact moment, the argument was cut off abruptly when a shrill Beep Beep Beep sounded throughout the room.

  “What was that?” Drew asked.

  “My phone.”

  “Well, where is it?”

  Sean ground his teeth together and clenched his hands into knotted fists, fingers woven together tightly in a tangled mound of white knuckles. “Why should I tell you anything?”

  “Because if you don’t, you’ll never know who that text is from.” Drew raised an eyebrow, as if silently asking ‘do you honestly think arguing with me will get you anywhere?’

  Sean considered for a moment, trying to control the irrational spikes of anger that seemed to be coming in bursts, before hissing through gritted teeth: “fine. Top drawer on the left.” Drew rolled over onto his side with a pained grunt, found said mobile phone, and sat up a minute later with it clutched in one hand. “So? Who is it?”

  “Ali, your girlfriend. How cute.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” Sean glared. “What’d she say?”

  “That she’s coming round to visit tonight.”

  “She’s coming tonight?” he repeated frantically. “But she can’t!”

  “Why not?”

  “Your eyes.”

  “I’ll keep them closed.”

  And then suddenly, the fear and the confusion and the shock drained from Sean as fast it had come. What did it matter if Ali found out about this? It would be a good thing. What possible excuse could there be for such a huge change in eye colour? She would have evidence that there was something weird going on here. Who knew, maybe she’d be able to help him. She was smart, smarter than he was anyway, maybe she’d be able to figure something out.

  “You won’t get away with this, you know,” Sean said slowly and calmly. Drew blinked in confusion at this sudden change of tone.

  “How so?”

  “People aren’t stupid. Even if they don’t get it at first, they’ll figure it out eventually. The eyes, the change in personality…”

  “And they’re definitely going to think that some psycho spirit has taken over your body. That’s the only logical explanation.” Drew rolled his eyes mockingly.

  “Whatever,” Sean scowled. “Someone will find out, you’re not going to get away with it.”

  “And if they do find out, what exactly can they do to stop me?”

  “I don’t know. But they’ll do something, they’ll work something out.”

  The other boy scoffed. “Sure. Just keep hoping. Maybe you should try sorting your own problems out once in a while, instead of relying on everyone else.” There was a strange edge of bitterness in his voice, or maybe it was nostalgia, Sean couldn’t tell. He deliberated replying for a moment, but then thought better of it. He didn’t want another argument now. Things were bad enough as they were. So instead he sighed, and waited.

  Sean’s mother came up later on to check on who she thought to be her son. Drew kept his eyes shut for the whole time and feigned sleep. This time, Sean didn’t even bother trying to make his mother see him. She had never properly seen him when he had a body, so why would she now? She was a simple woman who meant well, but never quite got the whole ‘supportive parenting’ thing right.

  Sean could tell she was slightly drunk as soon as the door creaked open and she tottered in, armed with a glass of water in one hand and a plunger in the other. She had started up a regular routine of drinking ever since his father had left. He wasn’t too bothered by it anymore though, and at least this time she was still conscious enough to walk over to the bed in the dark relatively well, without stumbling. She would be leaving in a few hours for her night shift. Hopefully the effects of the alcohol would have worn off by then. She left the glass of water on his bedside table and proceeded to fuss with his covers, straightening them out and ultimately making them even messier in her inebriated state. Then she left, shutting the door loudly behind her. As soon as she was gone, Drew opened his eyes again and let out an irritated sigh.

  “Honestly, the rest of your family are just as hopeless as you.”

  Sean did not have the energy to make any more threats or scream insults. He couldn’t really deny it, anyway. He shook his head and lapsed into familiar silence again.

  Ali came half an hour later. Sean heard the front door opening from downstairs almost as if it were a distant memory or a dream he’d rather forget. He could hear her muffled voice as she conversed in quiet tones with his mother, and then the
stump stump stump as she climbed the staircase to his room. He was scared, now. His heart pounded wildly in his ears and each footstep sounded twisted and sinister. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted her to know about his current situation anymore. What if she came to the wrong conclusion? What if she did something drastic? He caught a glimpse of Drew and noticed with some indignation that the boy looked positively bored. Before he could say anything about this, the footsteps stopped and the door creaked open.

  “Sean? Are you awake?” she asked timidly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. It was dark, the only light slithering in from the window in silver trickles. She went to switch on a light, but paused and decided against it.

  “Yeah, I’m awake. You can sit down if you want.”

  She obliged, drawing up a chair beside the bed. Sean felt a sudden sense of relief at seeing her. Every other time she had visited he must have been unconscious. The last memory he had of the girl was their argument on the school bus. He remembered feeling guilty about being so harsh on her.

  “So, how are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Better, I guess.” Drew replied.

  Sean wanted nothing more than to tell her that he was behind her, that the person in the bed was not him. He wanted her to see him. “Ali?” he asked quietly, a part of him hoping desperately that she would be different from Hayden and his mother. “Can’t you hear me?” He already knew the answer was a ‘no’. But even so, he reached out tentatively and tried to touch her shoulder. His fingers slipped right through. From the bed, he could see the minute twitch of Drew’s lips into an upward smirk.