A Stranger In A Familiar Body

Gwen’s POV

I watched as the man burst into loud laughter, but his eyes betrayed him, they were filled with deep sadness.

He took a step closer, his voice shaking as he yelled, "Who the hell are you if you're not Arlene? Why do you look so much like her?"

“I…” I tried to speak, but the words were stuck in my throat.

I couldn't explain myself, not yet. Just then, everything became blurry. My mind fogged up, and suddenly I was somewhere else, at another time. I saw myself, no, the body I was in, running toward this same man in front of me, filled with joy.

They were Arlene’s memories. I could feel it, the joy, the warmth, all hers. I shook my head, trying to push them away and ground myself back in reality.

Focusing on the man in front of me, I took a deep breath and said, “I’m Gwen, not Arlene.” I could see the confusion in his eyes, and with a nervous chuckle, I added, “Yeah, I know that probably doesn’t make any sense to you, does it?”

The man’s expression hardened as he stared at me, refusing to believe a word I said.

“No," he muttered, shaking his head. "You are Arlene. You have to be. How are you still alive?" His voice cracked, the weight of his emotions pushing through.

Before I could respond, his eyes filled with pain, and he stepped closer, grabbing my shoulders gently but firmly.

“I watched you die in my arms," he choked out, his voice breaking. "I held you while you took your last breath. How... how are you standing here now?”

His body trembled, and I could see him fighting back tears, his grip tightening as if he were afraid I’d disappear again.

Just as I opened my mouth to reply, a wave of memories flooded my mind again, Arlene’s memories. This time, they were more vivid, more real. As Arlene ran into his arms, she hugged him tightly. Her love for him poured over me like a warm blanket. I felt her kiss him, soft and tender as if it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

In the memory, he smiled at her, holding out a small bouquet, her favorite. I could feel the joy and love she felt for him, the connection between them so strong it made my heart ache. The colors of the flowers seemed so bright, so beautiful. They were important to her, to him, to their story.

Snapping back to the present, I blinked, shaken. The man’s tear-filled eyes searched mine, still desperate for an answer. But how could I explain what I was feeling, what Arlene felt?

Just then, something shifted inside me. Arlene's emotions crashed over me like a wave, and suddenly, I wasn’t just remembering her feelings, I was feeling them. It was as if her heart had taken over mine.

My chest tightened, and before I could stop myself, my hand moved toward his face, my fingers gently tracing the strong line of his jaw.

His skin felt warm under my touch, familiar, like I had done this a thousand times before. Arlene’s love, her longing, her pain, it was all there, flowing through me, overwhelming me.

I stared at him, my eyes brimming with unshed tears. I didn’t say a word because, at that moment, no words could capture what I was feeling.

It wasn’t just the memories, I felt everything as if I was her, like I was in her place, loving him as deeply as she did.

For a second, he didn’t move. His eyes locked with mine, and I could see a flicker of something, maybe hope, disbelief, maybe the ghost of a dream he had once had. But just as quickly as that moment came, it was gone.

His expression hardened again, and before I could process what was happening, he yanked my hand away from his face.

The suddenness of it jolted me back to reality. He pushed me, not hard enough to hurt me, but enough to force space between us.

“No!” he shouted, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain. “You’re not her! You can’t be her! I watched her die…she’s gone!” His words were like a slap in the face, cutting through the haze of Arlene’s emotions.

He stumbled back a few steps, running a hand through his hair, his breathing ragged. “I don’t know who you are or why you look like her, but don’t you dare play with my feelings like this.” His voice cracked, his hands trembling as he tried to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to spill over.

I stood there, frozen, my tears threatening to fall. I didn’t know what to say or how to explain what was happening to me. I didn’t even fully understand it myself. Arlene’s memories, her emotions, they were tangled up with mine now, and I couldn’t tell where she ended and I began.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I don’t know what’s happening to me either…”

But it didn’t matter. He had already closed himself off, his eyes dark with pain. And in that moment, I realized that no matter how much I wanted to explain, no matter how much I wanted to make him understand, I might never be able to.

I stood there, heart pounding, as his eyes bore into mine, filled with a mix of pain, confusion, and anger. He was looking for answers, desperate for an explanation that I couldn’t give him. I wasn’t Arlene, yet everything about this body, everything about the memories flashing through my mind, screamed otherwise.

“I’m not her,” I said for what felt like the hundredth time, my voice shaking. “I don’t know why I look like her, or why I have her memories, but I swear, I’m Gwen.”

His jaw clenched, the muscles in his face tightening with every word I spoke. His eyes were cold, and distant, as though he was trying to protect himself from something too painful to confront.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” he spat, stepping back. “Do you think you can just show up here, looking like her, talking like her, and expect me to believe you?”

“I don’t know why I have her memories!” I cried out, gripping my temples as if I could somehow stop the flood. “But I’m telling you, I’m not Arlene! I’m Gwen!”

But it was like talking to a wall. His eyes darkened, his distrust so strong it was almost suffocating.

“I watched her die. How can you stand there and say you’re not her when you look exactly like her when you feel like her?”

His voice was rough, barely holding back the anguish. He kept repeating the same thing over and over, and it was suffocating. No matter what I said, he wasn’t ready to hear me out.

Every time I tried to explain myself, he would cut me off, insisting that I was Arlene, that I was lying to him. His refusal to listen weighed heavily on me, like a tightening grip around my chest.

Why won’t he believe me?

If you’re not Arlene, then prove it,” he demanded, his voice low and filled with bitterness. “Show me something, anything, that makes me believe you’re not her.”

How was I supposed to prove I wasn’t someone else? I didn’t have answers. I didn’t even understand why I was in Arlene’s body or why her memories were flooding my mind.

My head was spinning with confusion, and the more I tried to separate myself from her, the more her life intertwined with mine.

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. My thoughts were becoming muddled, the line between Arlene’s memories and my fading. I could feel her emotions, her love for Lucian, her fear, her sadness. The pounding in my head grew worse, and I felt dizzy, the world spinning around me.

“ I…” I whispered, but mid-sentence, everything became too much.

The pressure in my skull intensified like something inside me was trying to break free. I swayed on my feet, struggling to stay upright, but the weight of the memories was too heavy.

His face swam in my vision, his expression unreadable.

Was it anger? Hurt?

I couldn’t tell anymore. Everything was slipping away from me. My body gave out, my legs buckling as I collapsed to the floor. Darkness crept in from the edges of my vision, and I reached out blindly, trying to hold on to something, anything, but it was no use.

His figure loomed over me, his face blurry, the last thing I saw before my vision faded completely. I heard him call my name, but it was distant, as though he was miles away.

Then, everything went dark.

And I was lost, spiraling into a void where I didn’t know if I would ever wake up, or if I would ever be myself again.