Flight Risk - Part 6

 

I spent the next few days more or less in the same routine, exploring the city during the day and her body in the evenings. Today was the day I was supposed to be flying back to the US with my family.

I looked up my mom on Facebook, curious if she had posted any photos of the trip already.

I found one that made my heart ache: my family standing in front of Big Ben, all smiles and excitement. My dad’s arm was draped around my mom’s shoulders, and my little sister beamed with joy, her hair blowing in the breeze. She had her arm wrapped around Alicia in my body…

I felt a rush of panic hit me as I stared at the screen, my heart aching for the family I had left behind—my family who now believed I was still with them. There they were, all together, enjoying moments I was missing out on.

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, I pictured my family boarding the plane and flying off across the pond. I began to sob uncontrollably.

“I just wanna go home,” my hands tore at Alicia’s chest, “Stupid fucking girl body!”

I hated this body. I hated this life. It wasn’t mine.

The uncertainty and fear were too much for me to handle. All I wanted was to be back in the comfort of my own home, surrounded by my family and friends.

But instead, here I was in London, alone in a stranger’s body.

Suddenly a deep voice echoed behind me, “Alicia, is that you? Are you okay? It’s me. Ethan."

I spun around, startled to find a man standing there, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, with tousled dark hair and warm brown eyes that seemed to search mine for answers.

“What?” I croaked, wiping my tears hastily with the back of my hand.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. You looked upset,” he said softly, “Gosh, I haven’t seen you since grade school.”

“I… I’m fine,” I stammered.

Ethan’s expression softened, “You don’t look okay. Do you want to grab a pint or something? Just to talk?”

“Um… sure,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

I felt like the loneliest person in the world, and, to be honest, going to get sloshed at a pub seemed like a fine escape.

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