In Her Shoes

Taylor jolted awake, his breath catching as he sat upright. The suffocating darkness of Blackwood House was gone, replaced by something entirely alien; light. Warmth. Life.

For a moment, he blinked against the brightness, his heart racing as his surroundings sharpened into view. The world around him was impossibly vibrant: a sunlit park, the grass lush and green, the air crisp and clean. Children's laughter echoed faintly in the distance, mingling with the rustle of leaves overhead.

"What the hell?" he muttered, his voice cracking.

But the voice wasn't his.

It was soft, higher-pitched, unfamiliar.

Panic surged as he glanced down at his hands; small, delicate, and pale. His fingers twitched involuntarily, brushing against the fabric of a skirt he definitely hadn't been wearing before.

"No," he whispered, his voice trembling. "No, no, no."

Stumbling forward, he caught sight of his reflection in a nearby puddle. His breath hitched, and his stomach lurched as the face staring back at him was not his own.

It was Sophia's.

Taylor froze, his chest tightening as he stared at the reflection. Sophia's dark eyes blinked back at him, her expression alive with curiosity and apprehension. Her long, dark hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, catching the sunlight like strands of polished obsidian.

"No," he said again, his voice rising. "This isn't real."

But it was.

He tried to raise his arm, to touch the reflection, to do something, but his body didn't respond to his will. Instead, it moved on its own, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in a gesture that felt alien and intimate all at once.

"This is... this can't be happening," he stammered.

The world around him was too vivid to be a dream. The warmth of the sun, the faint breeze carrying the scent of flowers, the distant sound of footsteps on the dirt path; all of it felt painfully real.

And then, the emotions hit him.

They started as a faint hum, a distant echo of something not his own. But they swelled quickly, crashing over him like a tidal wave: nervousness, excitement, and something else; an aching, hopeful longing.

Taylor gasped, clutching his chest. "What... what is this?"

The answer came in the form of a whisper, soft and chilling, brushing against the edges of his mind.

"Do you feel it, Taylor?"

His blood ran cold.

"Who's there?" he demanded, trying spin around in place.

The voice was unmistakable, though he hadn't heard it in years. It was Sophia. Not the ghostly sounding voice from the mansion. The real Sophia.

"Do you feel it?" she repeated, her tone almost gentle. "It's not yours. It's mine."

Sophia's legs moved without his consent, carrying him down a dirt path lined with towering oaks. The sunlight dappled the ground, the soft rustling of leaves overhead a serene contrast to the storm raging in his mind.

"I don't want to do this," he whispered, his voice cracking.

"You don't have a choice," the voice replied, calm but unyielding.

Her emotions surged again, sharp and vivid. Taylor could feel her pulse quickening, her palms growing damp with nervous sweat. But beneath the anxiety was something tender, fragile, and unspoken.

It hit him like a punch to the gut: she liked him.

The realization twisted in his chest, bitter and cruel. All those moments he had laughed off her shy glances, her nervous laughter, her quiet presence at his side; they hadn't been meaningless.

"Why are you showing me this?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Sophia's voice was a faint echo in his mind, laced with both sadness and something darker.

"Because you never noticed. You never cared."

Taylor's breath hitched. "That's not true. I... I didn't know."

"But you should have," she whispered.

Her footsteps slowed as the sound of laughter reached her ears; bright, carefree, and painfully familiar.

Taylor's heart sank as his younger self came into view, standing at the edge of the path with that same cocky grin he used to wear like armor.

"No," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Please, not this."

"You're late," younger Taylor said, crossing his arms.

Sophia's lips curved into a soft, shy smile. "You're early."

Taylor felt her heart flutter, a faint, involuntary reaction that sent a wave of nausea through him.

"I didn't know," he whispered, his voice breaking.

"But I did," ghost Sophia's voice murmured in his mind. "And you ignored it."

Sophia followed his younger self to the edge of a busy street, the sound of rushing cars growing louder as they approached.

Taylor could feel her unease, sharp and electric. Her heart pounded in her chest as she glanced nervously at the road ahead.

"Alright," his younger self said, his grin faltering for a moment. "Here's the plan."

Sophia tilted her head, curiosity and caution warring within her.

"We're gonna cross," younger Taylor said, gesturing to the other side.

Sophia's nerves spiked. "Here? Now?"

"Yeah," he said casually. "It's easy. I'll go first and show you how it's done. Then it's your turn."

Her anxiety swelled, but so did her resolve.

"He's the worst," Taylor whispered, tears stinging his eyes.

Sophia hesitated, her smile faltering. "Are you sure this is safe?"

Younger Taylor waved her off. "Of course. Just wait for the gap. Don't overthink it."

Younger Taylor stepped onto the road, waiting for a break in the traffic. When the gap came, he sprinted across effortlessly, his laughter carrying back to her.

"See?" he called from the other side, his grin widening. "Easy!"

"I don't want to do this, Taylor," she shouted at him. Older Taylor could feel her anxiety turning into fear.

Younger Taylor stood on the other side with his hands on his waist, "Don't tell me you're chicken!"

Sophia exhaled shakily, her body trembling as she stepped to the edge of the road.

Taylor could feel her fear, her hesitation, and the faint hope flickering beneath it. She wanted to trust him. She wanted to prove herself.

"No," Taylor whispered, his voice breaking. "Don't do it. Please, don't."

"You encouraged me," ghost Sophia's voice whispered, tinged with sorrow.

Sophia waited, her breath hitching as the cars blurred past.

"Now!" younger Taylor shouted.

She ran.

For a moment, everything was fine. Her feet pounded against the pavement, the rush of adrenaline masking her fear.

Then came the screech of tires.

The headlights bore down on her, blinding and relentless, a car horn screaming as if wailing a life cut short.

Taylor felt her panic, her pain, her desperation to stop; but she couldn't stop.

The impact was sickening, a brutal force that sent her body flying.

Taylor screamed as the agony tore through him; the snap of bones, the sting of asphalt against skin, the suffocating weight of the car.

Her vision blurred, the world tilting as she hit the ground.

"I didn't mean it," Taylor whispered, tears streaming down his face. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

Her heartbeat slowed, fading into silence.

Taylor woke with a start, his body trembling, his breath ragged. The warmth and light were gone, replaced by the cold, oppressive darkness of Blackwood House.

Sophia's voice echoed in his mind, soft and chilling.

"Are you tired? Don't be. There are many things yet to see."