The way of others

Veronica is a typical 18 year old girl, british-born but lived in america from the age of 10. Her parents are wealthy and successful, and Veronica is spoilt, naturally. One day while holidaying in a small city in England, Veronica is forced to take the bus to see the sights. She takes the wrong bus and ends up lost and alone and wondering where she is she encounters a homeless person who asks her to share her sandwich. She refuses and what happens next can only be described as a miracle. Her nec

A familiar crumbling feeling filtered through Veronicas unexpectant body. She looked down to see her necklace, vibrantly glowing, and she knew it was happening again.

Veronica awoke in a bed in the middle of a dark, musty smelling room. The stench of mould and urine filled her nostrils. She stood, slightly dazed and much shorter in height than she was used to. She stumbled over to a broken mirror clinging desperately to the damp walls. The reflection that stared back was not hers, but she had expected this. She stood a while looking at her new form. She was a girl, young. Maybe 8 or 9. She had very pale white skin, soft and delicate but also covered in what seemed to be old scabbed up wounds and bruises. Her hair hung in natural black ringlets by her juvenile face to her shoulders, matted and unkempt with a heavy fringe at her forehead. She had piercing dark brown eyes, filled with pain and contempt. Veronica shuddered at her reflection wondering what had happened to the girl she now inhabited. She wore only a pink nightgown, tattered and worn, and much too big for her thin fragile frame. Veronica looked around and wondered to the window. She pushed away the moth-eaten net that hung over the window and looked to the world outside. She was high up in what seemed to be a block of flats. The area looked deserted and rough. The sun was just peeping past the hills to the left of her. It was early morning and Veronica wondered what she had woken to.

She pushed open the door to an equally horrid smelling room and a flickering television set. The girl veronica had taken over was small and she could not see over the back of the sofa, but saw a foot hung over the arm of the furniture as still as death. It wore a sock covered in holes and dirt black on the bottom. She wondered over, anxious of what she might encounter. A woman laid on tha sofa, definitely unconscious was sunken into the old couch. She too had curled black hair that fell past her shoulders and very pale sickly skin. Veronica touched her arm. It looked bruised and distorted. A rubber rope was wrapped around the top of her arm, tied tight and making her skin blue with a lack of circulation. Veronica saw that there were empty bloodied needles scattered on the floor below her. She bent over to pick one up but as she stood and looked back she froze. The face that was just a second ago unconcious, lifeless, was now awake and two dark eyes much like those of the body she possessed, dark with pain but also angry stared back at her. In a second she rose her arm and swung viciously toward Veronicas face. A sharp sting took over her head and she dropped to the floor with the force of the blow. A small shriek came from her new childish voice. The already darkened room filled with black as Veronica succumbed to the grip of unconciousness.

The End

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