Get Out Of Your Head

I accidentally hit my head in the shower. To my surprise, I find that I can hear my aloof housemate's thoughts. "Damn, he's got perky buns." I think of him as a regular housemate, but he wants to sleep with me?

I'm learning to swim when my childhood friend, Vivian Thorne, fakes a cramp. My boyfriend, Oliver Wilde, suddenly lets go of my hand and swims toward her. I'm left alone in the two-yard-deep pool, completely stunned. After Oliver carries Vivian ashore, he smiles as he watches me thrash around. "Vivian says you rely on me too much and need a push to learn, so just swim over here yourself." I choke on water and sink. At the sight of my struggle, Vivian laughs so hard she slaps her thigh. Oliver says something to her, then drapes a towel over her shoulders in resignation. Even though I can't hear what he says, I bet it must be, "Now that you've had your laugh, don't tease her the next time. Aria is already pitiful enough with her fear of water." It's true that I was born with a fear of water. I've known them for seven years. All this time, Oliver and Vivian have been tormenting me under the guise of helping me overcome my fear of water. In college, at the beach, Vivian deliberately pushes me off the speedboat. Oliver jumps in to shield her and watches me swallow a bellyful of seawater in the waves. On the graduation rafting trip, Vivian suddenly capsizes the kayak. Oliver swims over to pull her up and watches me slam into a rock, my leg bleeding nonstop. Last year at the water park, Vivian shoves me down the waterslide. Oliver slides down to catch her and leaves me in the pool, nearly suffocating with fear. Every time, my fear and despair are met with a burst of laughter from Vivian. Meanwhile, Oliver stands behind her, always saying the same thing. "No more next time." However, the next time always turns into Vivian's new way of having fun at my expense. Water floods into my mouth and nose, the suffocation shooting straight to the top of my skull. But suddenly, I realize that I can actually float on my own. I grab the safety rope and haul myself ashore. Two pairs of hands reach out to pull me up, but I push them away. "From now on, I don't need you two to help me build up my courage anymore."

For the nine hundred and ninety-ninth time, the system in my mind warned me. [Warning! The lovesick part of your brain is highly active! If you refuse to leave John Miller, you’ll die an hour later!] I looked at my husband. He was scolding me for the sake of his secretary, who was his first love. I once burned down all of my award-winning drawings just because he disliked them. I calmly gave the system in my brain an order. “Since the cause of the malfunction is the lovesick portion of my brain, I hereby grant you the highest authority to remove it. Do the surgery now!” An hour later, John stopped me at the door of the ward. His eyes were bloodshot. “Grace Stone, what are you trying to pull?” I raised my head and watched him coldly and calmly. “Mister, you blocked the light. Based on an analysis, this constitutes an illegal detention. Do you need my help calling the cops?”

In the madness of life, we find the madness of life in ourselves. We are a reflection of the madness of life. We are the embodiment of a crazy life.

He straddled me, his hips swirling in slow, maddening circles. His body was right there, pressing into mine, and I couldn’t escape it; I didn’t want to. His hands found mine and guided them to his chest, and when my palms touched his warm skin, I was gone. My pulse was a blur of frantic beats pounding in my ears, drowning out the crowd's cheers and whistles. With his face inches from mine, Alec leaned in. His breath ghosted over my lips, his smile, cocky, knowing, playful, and somehow tender all at once. “You okay there?” he asked with an amused tone, and I opened my mouth, desperate to say something—anything—but nothing came out. My throat was dry, my skin was on fire and my mind was completely blank. All I could do was stare at him, completely mesmerized by how his body moved against mine and that wicked smirk on his lips. Before I knew it, heat pooled low in my belly, spreading downward, and I instinctively clenched my thighs together to stop the throbbing that ignited between my legs, but it was too late as I dampened the soft leather.

"Are you still afraid of me Medusa?" His deep voice send shivers down my spine like always. He's too close for me to ignore. Why is he doing this? He's not supposed to act this way. What the hell? Better to be straight forward Med! I gulped down the lump formed in my throat and spoke with my stern voice trying to be confident. "Yes, I'm scared of you, more than you can even imagine." All my confidence faded away within an instant as his soft chuckle replaced the silence. Jerking me forward into his arms he leaned forward to whisper into my ear. "I will kiss you, hug you and bang you so hard that you will only remember my name to sa-, moan. You will see me around a lot baby, get ready your therapy session to get rid off your fear starts now." He whispered in his deep husky voice and winked before leaving me alone dumbfounded. Is this how your death flirts with you to Fuck your life!? There's only one thing running through my mind. Lifting my head up in a swift motion and glaring at the sky, I yelled with all my strength. "FUC* YOU AUTHOR!" ~~~~~~~~~ What if you wished for transmigating into a Novel just for fun, and it turns out to be true. You transimigated but as a Villaness who died in the end. A death which is lonely, despicable and pathetic. Join the journey of Kiara who Mistakenly transmigates into a Novel. Will she succeed in surviving or will she die as per her fate in the book. This story is a pure fiction and is based on my own imagination.