"You could at least say something, Teddy," Chastity Howell said, hugging the bear.
That fucking bear. I'd spent a lot of quarters at the boardwalk trying to get it for her. I'm not sure she even wanted it. Little did I know how important it would become to me in just a few days. It was huge, and it was blocking my view when I turned to look at the right. At least there was a light.
"What do you want me to say?" I asked. "I asked you why you were breaking up with me, and you kept dodging." I sighed. "What does it even matter? Our moms wanted us to date, we did it out of obligation. And you're right, we don't fit together."
"Why are you being like this?" she asked. "I know you care. Couldn't you just be honest?" Her voice was breaking.
I was getting frustrated. "I'll be honest when you are." After a pause, I added, "And I don't want to say anything I'll regret."
"Aren't you going to try and talk me out of-" she began.
I cut her off. "No. You made your decision, and it frankly is easier for me. I liked you enough to wait for you," the light turned green and I accelerated "but I don't like you enough to die a vir-"
Twenty tons of metal and garbage cut me off. The dump truck, I'd later learn, had been doing fifty in a 25 mile per hour zone when it ran the red and smashed into the driver side of my car. I don't remember the crash. My vision turned white for what seemed to be half a second.
To my right, everything seemed normal except that Chastity's long blond hair was messed up and the curtain airbag was deployed. For some reason, I was convinced that her hair had shifted in some way, like it wasn't attached to her head. That distracted me so much I didn't realize she was in mid-scream. And her voice sounded like she'd been screaming for quite a while. "-SWER ME, TEDDY!" she was yelling, her voice fading in like God was slowly turning up the volume.
"Whuh..." I gurgled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a person in a city sanitation uniform stagger-run away. Inside, I felt something shift. I suddenly realized it was my rib.
I tried to move my head. I couldn't. I instead looked at the mirror by moving my eyes. It had been knocked loose by the impact, but it was in such a way that gave me a good overview of my situation. Let's just say that even though I wasn't a doctor, I knew that I was dying.
I decided that I didn't want her last memory of me to be of our breakup fight. I reached out to her with my right hand, groaning "Chas..." She flinched away from me. It hurt, surprisingly more than the damage to my body, but I understood. I missed her arm but stroked the bear. "Don't... remember this. Remember the good..."
And with that, my strength was spent. My arm fell across my Toyota's central console, and everything faded out. That's where things should have ended. Me dying, my ex-girlfriend screaming in horror at my broken corpse.
But that wouldn't be an interesting story, would it?
I was suddenly on the floor of a dimly lit room, staring up at the ceiling. If I could have, I would've blinked in surprise. I could see candlelight out of the corner of my eyes and smell burning wax. Interestingly, I could feel someone regarding me with disgust.
"Did you work?" I heard a voice murmur. It was so low I shouldn't have been able to identify the person, but I could hear the same words from them in my mind a split second before she said them like some sort of reverse echo. I recognized the voice, and honestly, I would've preferred to continue to continue my pre-being-crunched-by-a-dump-truck chat with Chastity rather than spend a second with this... person.
Why does my body feel weird?
I tried to ask. I felt... soft. And I couldn't move. The ceiling was plaster, like a house or apartment, not the tile I'd expect from a hospital. Something strange was going on.
Even stranger, I could feel the question I'd just mentally asked sort of... float out of my head and into the head of the other person in the room. And when it connected, I could tell that she had a choice. She could either interrogate it or accept it as her own. She dismissed something out of hand with a flash of arrogance, but a split second before that, I had a flash of me on the couch in my apartment, my dick peeking out of the fly of my pajama pants and her utter contempt. The thought I had sent to her then warped and I heard her voice say
If he's in there, he must feel strange. Being a stuffed animal must be fucked up.
Needless to say, I was shocked.
What?
I thought. This time, I noticed that the thought didn't fly out and lodge in her mind.
The person then began putting out the candles that had been set up around me. At one point, she stood over my face and I could see up the skirt of her black sun dress. She was wearing lacey black panties.
Typical,
I thought to myself.
As she moved, I could hear her mind racing. If I could only see and hear her, she would have seemed nonchalant. She was even whistling to herself. But in her mind, she was worrying about something, a plan of some sort. When she was done cleaning, she picked me up and propped me on a bed.
The room I was in was Chastity's bedroom. I'd never been in it before when I was alive, Chastity had always lived up to her name to an insane degree. Still, it was obviously hers. It was all nice wood and Christian music posters. Despite her, well, chastity, she had a king-sized bed. Opposite it was a mirror and I finally got a good look at myself.
I was a bear now. To be specific, I was now in the body of the stuffed bear I'd won for Chastity. I was four and a half feet of velvet and plush, with black bead eyes. Most of my body was long blond silk designed to mimic hair. My stomach was a dark brown velvet. The pads of my feet were black leather. This, to put it mildly, was not ideal.
Then the bitch herself leaned in front of me. Faith Howell. When I'd first met her, I thought she and Chastity were twins. They both had the same high-cheekboned face, but Faith's hair was dark black while Chastity was a dirty blond. After getting to know her better, I began thinking of her as the evil twin, and it wasn't because she was a goth or more sexually liberated. Then Chastity told me Faith was her older step-sister from her father's previous marriage. At that point, I began thinking of her as the wicked step-sister.
Despite having the same color and shape of eyes, Faith's eyes were always somewhat sad and a little scared. Chastity's light brown eyes, however, always had an air of smug cruelty about them.
As she came into view, her lips were pursed. "This'd better work," she said, and again I heard that weird pre-echo.
Look,
I thought, trying to, I don't know, think at her in the way I thought at her before?
You're a comic book super villain. Tell me your evil plan. I know you want to.
Once again, the thought floated from my head to hers. And once again, I could feel what I was starting to suspect was her subconscious analyze it. I began to wonder if I could make her realize I was talking to her, or if I could phrase things so she'd be less likely to realize it was me who was speaking. I shuddered at that last idea, or would have if I was capable of voluntary motion. That ability could lead to some dark places. Especially with my predilections.