The incident at the mall was a clash between a predatory hawk and a helpless squirrel. One that ended with one of us bruised and beaten into a motionless state, and the other was hauled away for the sheer brutality of the attack. What surprised me about that day was how supportive everyone was of me despite how close they were to Ben. It felt like they’d all had just about enough of his behavior. He was suspended eventually today when the police told the school about what happened, so that was the end of that. I’m going to have about a week of school where I don’t need to worry about his aggression for a little while.

As far as how I feel about it, I don’t know. I thought I’d be relieved and jumping for joy over my own freedom from his watchful eyes, but I can’t help but feel kind of sorry for him. When you put everything into perspective, what’s his life been for the past few weeks? He was on top of the world, and now he’s lost it all and was almost expelled.

Was he innocent in any of this? Obviously not. But it’s not like he’s the devil or anything. He had a string of bad luck and his mistakes kept piling up. It’s easy to lose track of right and wrong when you’re in a high-stress situation and just need a break. But in as much as he does need the help, it’s not my place to do it. All I can do is push his friends to give him what he needs.

“Do you think he would respond kindly to you in the future, Tristan?”

My psychiatrist, Dr. Santana, folded her legs and eyed me intently, scouring my bandaged face for any sign of emotion.

“Probably not, but I’ll try to help him anyway. He doesn’t deserve to have his entire life ruined by this stuff.”

“That’s very altruistic of you. Let’s get back to when you broke the perfume. What did you feel in that moment?”

“I felt… rage.”

“Rage? Why do you think that is?”

“I think it’s because I felt sorry for Gwen, and I was angry at Ben for taking advantage of her.”

The woman tilted her head and placed her fingers on her cheek, stroking it gently as if I’d said something interesting.

“Why did you feel sorry for her?”

“She was just, pitiful. Doing her best to please the person she’s in love with despite how futile it seemed. I got angry at him for not respecting her feelings. And I got a little angry at her for not standing up for herself.”

Dr. Santana sat for a moment in silence, her eyes still fixated on me. I found my eyes wandering around the room, not sure what to say next in the silence.

“Tristan, the last time you were here I brought up the topic of the girl by your side at camp. Zoey, right? I asked what your relationship with her was.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know if I can answer that right now.”

“I understand. Take as much time as you need. But Tristan, please remember that this only works if you share what you’re holding inside. I can’t help you face those things until you bring them out into the open.”

“Yeah…”

“Take your time with it. Only talk about it when you’re ready. But when you are ready, I’ll be here to listen to you.”

“Thanks.”

Before the session was done, she asked me about the effects of the medication she had prescribed. Outside of my noticeably increased tiredness, I didn’t notice much difference, but she said that it was normal. It’d take a while for them to stabilize my mood. As long as I wasn’t experiencing any sudden negative thoughts then I’d be fine. Once the session was over, I left the room and greeted my mom in the waiting room. She was on her phone playing one of those addictive games that seem to be popular among older people. When she saw me walk out, her head perked up and she immediately stood to meet me.

“How’d it go? Did you tell her about the bully?”

“Yeah, mom. I did.”

“That’s good. Suspending him was the least they could do! They suspended you when you were just acting out in pain and left a mark on your permanent record for nothing. Honestly, he should’ve been expelled.”

“Mom, it’s okay. Let’s just go.”

“You’re right…” she sighed and walked out with me. The autumn chills greeted us with an overly familiar kindness once we’d stepped outside. I was still wearing a pretty light jacket so the cold today was a wakeup call that it might be time to begin dressing heavier. Tomorrow would be the eighth, which meant that the second week of November was already upon us. The eighth also happened to be Gwen’s official birthday.

I thought about how I could make it a special day for her. I wasn’t exactly one of her close friends, but I could do the bare minimum and wish her a happy birthday. But why should I do the bare minimum? I never got her a gift. Well, technically I was going to, but I forewent the whole thing to check up on Naomi. What about my gift? I want to give her a gift too. I want the self-righteous feeling of knowing that she knows that I gave her a gift. What was the point of giving gifts otherwise?

“Hey mom, can we make a stop to buy some paints on the way home?”

“Paints?” she asked as she opened the driver’s seat door. “Why’s that?”

“It’s someone’s birthday tomorrow, and I wanted to paint her something.”

“Her? Oh Tristan, is it your girlfriend? Zoey was her name, right? No, she said she was in June…”

Why did she remember that? Was Che Guevarra’s birthday really that important to everyone?

“Uhm, it’s a friend of hers. We’re working on a card together…”

“Oh, in that case it’s fine. I’ll take you there.”

It appeared that Laura’s influence was beginning to wear off because I had no issues lying to my mom about that. About two days. The hack itself was about half an hour long, so I didn’t expect it to last quite that long. I’d most likely be myself again at the earliest by midday tomorrow.

“She seems like a good girl, that Zoey. Maybe a little hard to read. I suppose that’s why your father had taken such an interest in her. I wasn’t a fan, though. Of him going up and talking to her like that. Kids should be allowed to learn on their own what kind of person makes an ideal partner.”

“Haha, yeah…”

I had no intention of giving my own opinion on the matter, but I was pretty unnerved at that whole situation. I was glad that she stepped in and got him out of there when she did, especially considering how much Zoey took advantage of the whole thing to toy with me.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Speaking of Zoey, once I’d charged my phone, I realized that I had a ton of missed calls from my ‘Captain’. I never did tell her what happened with the Laura hack, so perhaps it was a good time to get back to it.

“Hang on mom, I need to make a call.”

“Don’t take too long, love bird.”

I walked away from the car, my face bright red from her assumption, and called her contact. There were about one and a half rings before she picked up.

“Tristan, can you hack me tonight?”

There was no greetings or any hint of hesitation in her voice. As always, it was straight to business with Zoey Brahm.

Uh, sure. What do you need me to do?”

“Whatever you want. I just need you to be with me while I sleep.”

“Okay.”

“Stay for as long as you can.

“Okay. Anything else? Like about Laura?”

“Laura? Oh, the hack.” She went silent, as if she’d completely forgotten about the assignment she’d given me. Was she preoccupied with something else? “How did it feel?”

“How did it…? Being Laura?”

“Yes. How did it feel? What kind of person was she? What did you feel?”

“I felt…“ I paused, searching around for the right phrase. “I felt at peace.”

The response hung in the air like a dash of perfume.

“Did you feel any guilt?” she asked.

“Guilt? Um, I don’t know. Probably not…”

“Hmm. Well either way, are you free on Saturday?”

“I should be. Why?”

“I need you to tag along with me for something. I’ll be picking you up at around 10am.”

“No problem. Oh, there’s something I need to ask you.”

“What is it?”

I moved the phone to my other ear. “Why… did you break Ben and Gwen up?

“Did Gwen tell you to ask me about it?”

There was no use in hiding it. “Yeah…”

At my response, she only giggled.

“Okay, fine. I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow.”

And just like that, the line died without warning in typical Zoey fashion. It felt like a business call rather than a call with my girlfriend. Not that she was my girlfriend. That was just a lie she forced onto my parents so they’d accept her more easily. Recently, she’s been hinting at the possibility of it being official, but I did my best to respect her by not pushing to ask about it. After all, a gun does not ask why. A gun does not hesitate. A gun only fires when its trigger is pulled. I was simply doing my part to respect the deal I’d made with Zoey Brahm. I’m still hers, and so, I’d fire myself again tonight for her sake.

---

When I hacked Zoey after going to bed at around 9PM, it was like I had been visiting a stranger’s mind. My previous Zoey hacks were a serene journey. Like I was a traveler canoeing over a calm body of water, gliding gently across the crystal-clear surface unbothered by any potential disturbances. Basking in the cool night air blissfully rather than worrying needlessly as I did in my own body.

But this time was different. This time, I was a sailor navigating a dinky ship during a ravaging typhoon. The seas had been doing everything in their power to wrestle control away from me and my vessel as I did my best to keep it all afloat. It was as if mother nature were throwing herself at me with everything she could muster. I was on the verge of breaking. All to say that Zoey’s mental state was in tatters compared to two weeks ago. One thing that wasn’t different, however, was her tenacity and determination. Despite how rough things seemed, I never truly felt hopeless. I knew that I could beat this typhoon and come out on top. It didn’t matter if I was manning a galley with a capable crew, or a tiny rowboat. I would be victorious in the end. I was certain of it.

After awakening inside of her body once more, I walked over to her clothing cabinet and ruffled through her panty drawer. Since she said I could do whatever I wanted, I figured that she wouldn’t mind a playful act like this one, though I was mostly doing it since it was tradition at this point. Am I a bad person for having no reservations about looking through Zoey’s underwear? I don’t know, but I don’t particularly feel guilty over it. After all, at that moment, it felt more like they were my underwear rather than hers. My body gained no sexual gratification at all from going through these motions. Though, one has to wonder if my real body was. Maybe I had sprouted an erection back in my real body? I wasn’t sure, and quite frankly, the possibility that I did was creeping me out. Was it my own disappointment in myself? Or was it Zoey’s disgust for me? I pray that it was the former.

Well, I shouldn’t beat myself up about it. She did say I could do whatever, after all. What really mattered here was that she told me to stay with her for the night. But still, I wondered why she was so eager to have me hack her tonight despite giving no real instructions? Did she just want to experience it once again? It might have been another experiment with the power.

If I recalled, she had a ton of information on Dream Paralysis written down in a notebook, didn’t she? ‘The Laws of Dream Paralysis’ is what she called them. I moved to sit at her study desk and found it sitting squarely at the center of her workspace. Sitting there filled me with memories of that unforgettable evening with her. Sharing her body with her consent for the first time, listening to Radiohead together, drinking beer for the first time with her, then sleeping in the same bed…

And yet, I feel naught but disappointment when I remember that night. After all, it was when I learned that she had no ability to love others. It was the loneliest I had ever felt in my entire life. Zoey was the only thing keeping me going. Her not being able to love me back was like the end of the world. But thanks to Dream Paralysis, she had a reason to be invested in me. I was in love with her, and she was in love with my power. So, isn’t that good enough?

I looked down at the laws she had written out in her book:

1. Hacking can only be activated during REM sleep.

2. Target selection occurs by visualizing the victim’s face intensely before sleeping.

3. The target can rescind control from the hacker once they’re aware of what’s happening. The exception to this is when the target is also experiencing REM sleep, in which case their paralysis will prevent them from doing so.

4. The target still has access to senses such as sight, sound, and smell while hacked during REM sleep.

5. The hacker’s mind is downstream from the mind of the target. That is, all feelings towards something will be influenced by the body’s original mind rather than the hacker’s, and all commands will be carried out the way the original mind would unless done consciously.

6. Since the hacker’s mind is downstream from the target’s, Dream Paralysis is incapable of accessing the target’s memories.

7. The hacker’s body is influenced by the target when they return to their own body. Certain physiological and psychological traits may be strongly imprinted into the hacker for 2-4 days depending on the length of time of the hack.

8. It is possible to jump from one target to another in the middle of a hack, setting up the possibility for multiple chain hacks.

9. It is possible to hack a target passively and take no action while they’re awake. This allows the hacker to essentially spy on other people, while preventing the target from realizing that something is off.

Her understanding of the power had to have been on par with mine if not greater. The hypothesis she came up with, that the hacker’s mind is downstream from the target’s, did precisely describe my experience. There was never a time where I truly felt like I was in control of a body. Even during the target’s REM sleep, it felt as if I was battling against the dormant mind’s effect on the body. Fighting through their own feelings, their habits, their quirks.

As I turned the page while lost in thought, I found a small note attached to the page that must have been added recently.

Dream Paralysis occurring during the target’s REM sleep may help them have a good night’s sleep.

It all clicked suddenly. This wasn’t an experiment; she’s just been having trouble sleeping these past few days. That explained the strange difference I experienced when I hacked her body. She’s just tired. I couldn’t help but wonder what it was that had been keeping her up recently. Was it stuff with her mom, school, or something else entirely? Well, regardless of what it is, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to help rest her body. Perhaps lying down and allowing her muscles to relax would help. Thinking that, I closed the notebook and place it to my(her) left and…

“Oh.”

It was a strange sight. If I were in my own body, I would have leapt out of my own skin in surprise. It was something I’d never expected to see in the room of a girl my age. The only reason I even managed to maintain some level of sanity is because Zoey herself seemed completely indifferent to it. Why was it there, though? Why did she have something like that in her room? And… was it a coincidence?

I examined the object carefully. It was beautiful, but I couldn’t help but worry about what the implications were. Was she just interested in this sort of thing? Or was it a science project of some kind? This wasn’t here two weeks ago, so is it the reason she’s seemed so tired lately? Whatever it was she had been planning with this, I would simply have to ask her about it the next day. For the time being though, I needed to help her get some rest.