The Body Thief のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

Hera cupped her cheeks as Ms. Reyes, their Creative Fiction teacher, drowned them with the ingredients for a perfect story. They’ve been discussing it for days but, aside from feeling bored and stupid, she learned nothing. She understood a pinch of what she was saying, though; however, more than that was just wishful thinking. Yawning, Hera directed her gaze outside the window. With her peripheral vision, she was aware Ms. Reyes wouldn’t be able to notice her spacing out. After all, she was a small woman, even by the standard of a twelfth-grade student. This and the fact that most of her classmates were sitting in front of her, vacating the four chairs beside her, concealed her from her teacher’s range of vision. Assured she’d never be reprimanded, she poured all her attention to the field just outside their room. She brushed the strands of her hair off her face to have a good look at the Narra Tree sitting in the center, its branches dancing with the wind, its leave

Hera was catching her breath as she stopped running, her hands on her knees, her hair disheveled. She never thought Mr. Hemmingworth had followed her when she took her leave. She thought that because he was busy arguing with the principal, he would let her go for now. Far to the contrary, he was swift enough to excuse himself and chase Hera to know her answer. Sure, he said he’d kindly wait, but he wanted to confirm whether or not Hera would think about it. To Hera, he was just wasting his time. There’s just no way she’d subject herself under his jurisdiction. Her gut’s telling her it’s not the right thing and, anyway, she hated the fact that he’d already talked to the principal with the transfer without consulting it to her first. Didn’t she have a will of her own? Why would they assume that just because the principal agreed and perceived it as an honor, Hera would have the same mindset? It’s just absurd and presumptuous. She hated it. Looking over her shoulder, a s

Hera lay on the bed as her mother wrapped cloth on her bleeding hand. She was cradling a small smile as she hummed; her entire focus poured on her daughter’s wound. The way that she did so made Hera feel so weak. She never had a mother who’s as caring as her, and it made her feel that her chance to have one had been redeemed, though she felt disappointed all the same. She knew that whatever she felt now was just temporary and that soon she would either wake up from this dream or be busted that she wasn’t their real daughter. Imagining it alone gave her no satisfaction. In a short moment, she felt as if she’s living the life of her dreams: having her own bed, having a caring mother, having a room of her own. Whatever happened, she wished for it to remain that way; otherwise, she’d be miserable once more, trapped in a fate she longed desire to vanquish. Once again, a tear escaped her eyes. Before she could even try to wipe it, her mother already did. “It’s unusual for

Hera was fully aware that what she had experienced was nothing but a figment of her imagination, that it was too good to be true, but what she couldn’t understand was how she could dream of someone she had just met and someone obsessed to recruit her over to his school. Not to mention that it also included a motherly figure she longed so much to feel.But maybe it just showed how desperate she was to break free from the bindings of her accursed fate, that it haunts her down even in her slumber.Mother Tere said she was asleep for three days, and she’d made sure that none of the orphans saw her bare face in respect to her decision. Sure enough, it was only Mother Tere who greeted her when she woke up.“We were worried sick, A-15, didn’t you know? I thought it was the end of you. You were sprawled unconscious on the ground, and you’re barely breathing. Soaked in the flood with your head bleeding. The caregivers were losing hope, see,

Hera was standing in front of a full-length mirror, eyeing herself in a way that she’d never done before. The mirror was Mother Tere’s gift for her admission to her ‘dream school’. Hera refused point-blank to accept it, as she had no use for it, but Mother Tere couldn’t accept ‘no’ for an answer, so much so that she took the initiative to nail it on the wall in Hera’s room. Her other roommates were happy about it, of course. They’ve been asking for one for ages, but Mother Tere didn’t approve it in respect to Hera who frets at the sight of her reflection. Though as to why she’s insisting it now, Hera could only guess along the lines that she wanted her to, at least, have some friends in her new school; certainly, with her hair covering her face and her anti-social and anti-self attitude, other students would have a hard time being comfortable around her.It was Monday. Hera was just waiting for the service that