Gwen gave me a lift back to my place at about 9PM. I was surprised by how much time I had spent with her in a single day. I fully expected to be back at home about three hours sooner than I had been. My parents were already up in their room around when I arrived, probably watching some cheesy sitcom like they usually do at that hour, so I managed to sneak in without revealing my bruises to them for the time being. Though, with everything that’s been going on with me, I’m sure they’d have more than just a few questions whenever they finally behold what the tattoo artist Benjamin had done with my face.

As I grabbed a new ice bag from my parents own first-aid kit in the first-floor bathroom, there was a lurking sense of anxiety in my heart at what tomorrow and the day after might hold. I couldn’t stop thinking about how warped the person I had fallen in love with truly was. How much she’d hurt both Benjamin and Gwen was something I couldn’t simply ignore. Manipulating them at every turn for seemingly no conceivable reason. And then there’s how she’s been treating me. She manipulated me into rigging the basketball game, and she tricked me into thinking she sustained some kind of serious head injury just to get me away from Gwen as quickly as possible.

And yet, I didn’t confront her on it. I just let her go to bed as I continued to fantasize about potentially joining her there some day. My line of thinking is so laughably rotten that it makes me sick to my stomach. I naively believe even now that, if I openly forgive every one of her transgressions, then maybe she’ll understand how dedicated I am to her. Then maybe she’ll realize that I’m someone she can trust with her deepest, darkest secrets. That maybe she’d change and become the type of person capable of both love and remorse. I’m so desperate to become someone that she can share those thoughts with, for her to become someone that I can share mine with, that I’m somehow willing to look past what is plainly messed up behavior on her part.

When I finally made it to my room with the bag against my cheek, my phone vibrated on the inside of my pocket. Without turning on the light above my head, I pulled my device out and saw a new message from Naomi.

I’m sorry about how today went. Did Gwen apologize to you properly?

I couldn’t help but smile. She really was too good for Lance. I couldn’t help but wonder how terrible today would’ve went if she hadn’t been there. As a matter of fact, her presence was another reason that I couldn’t find it in myself to be too hard on Gwen for it all. After all, there was no reason for her to call in any of my allies if she really felt nothing about having Ben disparage me. In her own way, that might have been her way of looking out for me.

After I responded to Naomi, I received another message. This time, from ‘Captain’. It was a selfie she had taken with Laura from today, with the attached message delete in the morning, no doubt to erase any evidence of our texting activities.

Laura Young.

Judging by the image, she seemed to have slid into a gothic aesthetic since enrolling into college. And just like always, there wasn’t a hint of a smile on her face. Just the usual cold, apathetic expression she always wore. The contrast between Zoey’s casual wear and her bright smile made the two of them together a potent combination. Just how much did they both get hit on today? They must’ve covered an entire continent of bases as far as the male spectrum of tastes went. It didn’t help that they’re both drop-dead attractive too.

It took me a moment, however, to remember that she’d wanted me to hack Laura after today. The photo must have been her way of helping me out. So basically, I was expected to hang back and find anything that I could about her, and how she felt about today. To be honest, I hadn’t even thought about using the power because I was so terrified of running into the spirit again. The sleepless nights it would have given me if I weren’t so soaked in Zoey’s calm would have ruined me. It would be my first hack since Benjamin during the basketball game, so I felt a bit anxious about it, especially since I didn’t know her very well. What kind of person would I become after hacking her? I didn’t know, but I would have to push through for Zoey.

So many things had happened today, that I had completely forgotten to ask Zoey why she thought I had hacked her today. Instead, I filled my head with thoughts of the girl in the photo, and after about an hour of battling with the pain in my body, my consciousness finally faded.

---

“I believe in God the Father almighty,

Creator of heaven and earth.

And in Jesus Christ, His only Son,

our Lord, Who was conceived by the Holy Spirit,

born of the Virgin Mary,

suffered under Pontius Pilate,

was crucified, died, and was buried.

He descended into hell; the third day

He rose again from the dead;

He ascended into heaven, and sits at

the right hand of God the Father

almighty, from thence He shall come

to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit,

the holy Catholic Church,

the communion of saints,

the forgiveness of sins,

the resurrection of the body

and life everlasting.

Amen.”

Intuitively, I understood that this must have been a Christian ritual. Laura Young sat in her room murmuring a prayer under candlelight while clutching a beaded cross in both hands. To go as far as to say such a prayer on an unremarkable day like this one was telling enough as to the kind of person she was. Despite her mode of dress in that picture Zoey took with her, she was unmistakably a devout Catholic.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

An angel in devil’s clothes? She was saying so many ‘Hail Marys’ that I probably would have gotten bored and left had I been participating in this in my own body. However, there was something divine flowing through me(her) as she went through her prayers. I could tell that whatever this was may have been more than just an obligation for her to get through. It was an important ritual that filled her with unbridled love for life. It was a bright, colorful love that seemed to course through my(her) body just as naturally as blood flowed through our veins.

I sat in her body for about fifteen more minutes, just soaking in her earthly love for God and the world around her as she said her prayers. I listened to her soft voice recite them over and over. Her concentration was immaculate. There wasn’t a single wasted breath, and there wasn’t any hint of a rush in either her voice or her demeanor.

“Are you done yet?”

Her roommate spoke up the second her prayer had ended. The brown-haired girl lying in the bed on the opposite side of the small room was probably still learning about Laura’s presumably nightly ritual. It was a new semester after all, so it’s entirely possible that she was a new roommate.

“Yeah, I’m done.”

“Okay, cool. Let’s head out.”

The two of them left the dorm room and went for a leisurely campus stroll. Dream Paralysis has redefined the way I look at other people. The ability to truly step into another person’s shoes and see the world the way they see it has warped a lot of preconceptions I’ve had about myself, and about the people around me. But even still, as someone who’s hacked five other people at this point, Laura was a different beast entirely.

Every cell in her body was filled with love for the world. The midnight breeze was seeping into her pores as if she were absorbing everything around her. The red maple leaves on the nearby trees dyed by the night’s blue felt divinely beautiful. Even the man-made lights that lit up the cobblestone pathways across the campus felt as regal as the moon above. Like they were perfectly sculpted to highlight the elegance of the people beneath it.

“So, what’d you do today, Laura?”

“Oh, me? Someone from my old high school wanted a campus tour so I showed her around.”

“Yeah, and of course miss goodie two-shoes couldn’t say no, right?”

“Maybe not. But you know, I actually like this girl a lot.”

Love for Zoey. I felt it in her heart. She did genuinely care for her like she would a friend of many years. Her openness towards other people was apparent enough just from feeling what was inside of her for a few moments.

“But you know, you wouldn’t know that you cared for her just by how you say it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno. You sound like you’re being sarcastic. And you look a little angry too. To be honest, I always thought you were scary before I got to know you. You never smile.”

“Oh. Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“Might be for the best though. If people knew how nice you are deep down, they’d probably take advantage of you.”

“Maybe I seem nice, but that’s just on the outside.”

“What do you mean?” The girl asked.

“It’s just that, while you might think I’m nice, I do have my own selfish thoughts just like everyone else.”

“Well, you’re only human, I guess. But still, you’re a better human than everyone else on this miserable campus.”

Laura stopped to sit at a bench near the water fountain.

“I don’t know Bella; I just think that there’s so much beauty in the world. Every person you come across has their own life, their own story, and their own unique journey. They aren’t simply just themselves, but an accumulation of the things they’ve experienced throughout their lifetime. A homeless person is only homeless because someone or something failed them in life. Whether it’s their parents, their teachers, or even the system we live in, it can all be boiled down to the cards they were dealt. And even the people or things that failed them have their own story. It’s not like they don’t regret some of how their life turned out, right? They just kind of lived a couple years and suddenly it all happened. All we can do as people is understand and hope that the world becomes a better place.”

“God, you’re such a weirdo.” Her roommate laughed before taking a seat next to her. “Okay, so what about me? Am I another one of your charity cases, or do you genuinely like talking to me?”

“I wouldn’t call anyone a charity case. I like hanging out with everyone.”

“Okay, but am I special?”

“Special? You mean to me?”

“Yeah. Like, would you invite me to your wedding?”

“I don’t think I’d have a big wedding.”

“That’s a really nice way of saying no.”

Laura stuck her tongue out playfully. “Maybe after we get to know each other better.”

“Okay, sure. I’ll hold you to it then.”

It was a complete departure from my hacks on Zoey. In fact, I’d even go as far as to call the two girls complete opposites. From the muted apathy Zoey felt towards everything around her, to the sublime feeling of my heart swelling with love for the world that Laura held.

There wasn’t a single doubt in her heart about anything in the world. Everything will be okay. The universe, no. God loves me, so even if things are bad, they’re still good. Because they’re all according to His intentions.

It wasn’t so much as understanding Christian principles that helped her feel this way. It was that she had ingrained so much of them into the core of her being that Christ’s teachings came to her as naturally as breathing. Constant bible study, praying every night, church every Sunday, and then applying His lessons to her daily life. If this truly was who Laura Young was, then she was a Christian through and through, and I felt the benefits of that kind of lifestyle the second our souls had joined together.

Was this the solution to my life of anxiety and fear? Should I accept religion into my heart? Would His love transform the neurotic nightmare that comes with existence into something more peaceful? I didn’t know the answers to those questions. But instead, I decided to stay with her for a while longer. I wanted to understand how her personality of love and understanding would change my everyday life. The effects of a hacking victim’s personality last for about three days. So at the very least, for the next few days, Tristan Collins would live not as just another human being trying to get through the day, but as a loving, understanding person willing to take everything as it comes.