Chapter 4: A Life I Didn’t Choose

The overpowering fragrance, the suffocating atmosphere—I couldn’t take it. I grabbed my bag and ran out.

My sneakers squeaked against the tile. I bolted for the door, heart pounding.

Outside the apartment complex, I realized my face was soaked with tears.

I wiped at my cheeks, surprised by how wet they were. My breath hitched, and I ducked my head, hoping no one would see me fall apart.

I rode the city bus to school, crying quietly as the scenery flashed by, just like the past three years of my life.

The bus was crowded, but nobody noticed the girl with red eyes staring out the window. I watched the city blur past—shops, parks, people laughing on the sidewalk. All of it felt a million miles away.

When I got to class, my classmates looked at me in shock and told me I’d changed my major.

A girl in a pink hoodie leaned over, her eyes wide. “Maddie, you’re in business admin now? Since when?” I just stared at her. My mind went blank. None of it made sense.

In that moment, any lingering feelings I had for Lila burned away in anger.

A hot, bitter fury bubbled up inside me. I clenched my teeth, fighting the urge to scream. I couldn’t believe she’d done this—taken something else from me, without even asking.

My advisor said I couldn’t change my major again.

She spoke in a clipped, businesslike tone, her eyes flicking over my file. “Once you switch out, that’s it. University policy. I’m sorry, Maddie.” She didn’t sound sorry at all.

Mine was a one-way track—once you switched out, you couldn’t go back.

It felt like a door slamming shut behind me. All the plans I’d made, the classes I’d looked forward to—they were gone, just like that.

I wandered into a business administration classroom, lost. I didn’t belong here.

The room buzzed with chatter, unfamiliar faces bent over laptops. I slid into a seat at the back, hugging my backpack to my chest. The professor droned on about supply chains and market share, none of it making sense.

I couldn’t understand a word of the jargon. The room buzzed with strangers.

A guy in a suit jacket tapped away on his tablet, while a girl with perfectly curled hair whispered about internships. I felt invisible, totally out of place—like I’d stumbled into someone else’s life.

I felt like I was in another world.

The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting everything in harsh white. My head ached. I watched the clock, willing the minutes to pass.

When class finally ended, it was still light out, but I had no desire to go home. I wandered aimlessly around campus.

I drifted past the quad, watched a group of students toss a frisbee, listened to the distant thump of music from a dorm window. I felt like a ghost, untethered and unseen.

My thoughts were a mess, but one thing was clear:

Lila had planned to replace me all along. No wonder her notes had gotten so brief—she didn’t want me to know what she was up to.

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I replayed her last few messages, searching for clues I’d missed. Each one felt colder, more distant, as if she was already saying goodbye.

After walking for a long time, my legs ached. I slumped onto a bench, not knowing what to do next.

The wood was cold against my back. I hugged my knees to my chest, staring at the cracks in the pavement. I felt small, powerless, and completely alone.

On one side, a major I knew nothing about. On the other, a family that wanted to take my body away.

It was a no-win situation. No matter what I chose, I’d lose something—my future, my family, maybe even myself.

I leaned my head back, wishing the sky would just swallow me up.

The clouds drifted overhead, gray and heavy. For a moment, I wished I could just float away, disappear into the blue.

I turned my head and saw the word "Library" over the doors.

The sign glowed in the evening light, promising silence and escape. I stood up, legs shaky, and headed inside.

By the time I left the library, arms full of books, the sun had set.

The campus was quiet, the streetlights flickering on one by one. I hugged the stack of textbooks to my chest, the weight oddly comforting.

When I got home, Mom had already made dinner. She looked awkward when she saw the stack of business textbooks in my arms.

She glanced at the titles, then at me, her mouth twitching as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it. The air between us crackled with unspoken words.

One look at her face and I knew—they knew about the transfer. Maybe they’d even suggested it.

I caught the quick glance she exchanged with Dad, the way she bit her lip. It was all the confirmation I needed.

At dinner, I picked at my food, only taking real bites when it was something I liked.

The salmon was perfect—flaky and buttery, just the way I liked it. I ignored the rest, pushing peas around my plate, my appetite gone.

Mom tried to lighten the mood with a smile: "Look, honey, Maddie really takes after us—loves salmon, just like we do. Lila never liked anything from the water."

Her voice was too bright, the smile too forced. I could hear the strain, the desperate hope that things could go back to normal.

That just made things even more awkward.

The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable. I stared at my plate, wishing I could disappear.

Dad put down his glass. "I heard you brought home a lot of business books. You must know Lila switched majors. Listen to me—Lila’s smart. This major will help her at the company. Even if you study it now, you’ll be in over your head—it’s pointless. Maddie, you know what I mean."

His words were blunt. Dismissive. Like he didn’t even care.

I nodded and kept eating.

I focused on the food, chewing slowly, pretending not to hear the disappointment in his voice. Inside, I was screaming.

They took my silence as agreement. Delighted, they said, "So you’ve come around! Good, I’ll call the hypnotherapist in a few days. Then you’ll finally be able to live a normal life."

Mom’s eyes sparkled with hope, and Dad clapped his hands together, already making plans. I felt the walls closing in.

I looked up and stared straight at Dad. "Will I be normal, or will Lila be normal?"

My voice was steady, but my hands trembled under the table. I needed him to say it out loud, to admit what they were really doing.

Dad frowned, but quickly forced a smile. "She’s your sister. You share a body. If she’s normal, aren’t you normal too?"

His answer was slick, rehearsed. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. I felt a cold anger settle in my chest.

I nodded again, then said, word by word, "I’d rather burn this body than let Lila use it."

My words hung in the air, sharp and final. For the first time, I saw fear flicker in Dad’s eyes.

Dad finally lost it, smashing his glass and pointing at me, breathing hard with rage.

The glass hit the table with a crack, shards scattering across the wood. His face turned red, veins bulging at his temples. He looked like he might explode.

Mom shot me a reproachful look as she tried to calm him down.

She reached for his arm, her voice trembling. “Please, let’s not do this now.” But the damage was done.

I couldn’t stay in that house anymore. Not with two people just waiting to take my body. I’d lose my mind.

My hands shook as I packed a duffel bag, stuffing in clothes, books, anything I could grab. I didn’t bother saying goodbye. I just walked out, the door clicking shut behind me.