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Taking Liberty is a serial story that I've been writing using the help of the folks at Three Word Wednesday. I've made it so far into the story with minimal planning, and I sense that we're getting close to the end of our journey.
Let's see what comes next.
I couldn't make the words come, even in my mind. I felt myself eroding away under each wave of pain that hit me.
"That's what I thought."
Suddenly, I was released. Before I could even grasp the concept, the scream that the torture had been blocking ripped from my throat. I felt James' arms tighten around me. I looked at him and tried to speak again. He shook his head and started stroking my forehead.
"I'm going to call 911. We need to get you to a hospital."
I felt a tightening around my heart and wondered if I might be dying or if Liberty was still making a point. Caution was called for.
I shook my head, "No, I just need to rest a bit."
James stared at me a long time. Not the loving gaze I had been treated to earlier, but the keen observation of a scientist studying a lab rat for odd behavior.
"Are you sure?"
I nodded again and he helped me to my feet. He put his hands on my shoulders to steady me. My legs were still weak and I fell into him. I looked up, trying to think of something funny to say to break the tension.
He stared again, "I really think you should go to the hospital, this is weird."
"It's nothing, I just fainted--"
"No, Elizabeth. Your eyes. There's something wrong with them. Didn't they used to be blue?"
I pulled away from him, trusting my legs to get me to the hallway mirror. I planted both hands on either side and leaned in, looking at my reflection.
"And your hair" James' voice trailed off.
In the mirror stared back a girl that definitely wasn't me, but could have been my sister.
My sister with brown hair and brown eyes.
If this was a traditional ghost movie, this is the point I would start yelling at the screen, "Get out of the house now!"
But what's Elizabeth supposed to do, the house is her body?