Untethered by Katie Hayoz

taking the cap off the bottle, Sam and I get Cokes out of the fridge.
    “What are you doing?” Mom looks from me to Sam. “It’s almost midnight. You are not drinking Coke this late.”
    Sam puts his back, but I open mine and take a long swig. I don’t know why. I just can’t help myself. I want to piss them both off. I want them to scream at me.
    “Sylvie, caffeine will aggravate your condition!” Mom yells it.
    “Sylvie!” My dad says it through his teeth.
    “No prob. I’m done anyways.” I set the can on the sink, burp and go to put on my pajamas.
    In my room, or Dad’s office, really, I listen at the door. I hear the door to Dad’s bedroom close. That’d be Sam. Sent there since Mom and Dad are discussing or fighting or whatever. Sam is supposed to sleep on the new sofa bed in the living room.
    I can hear Mom crying. Every once in a while her voice gets high. I hear Dad say, “You don’t know me anymore, Nicole. You haven’t even noticed me for years.” And then I crawl onto the new inflatable mattress and pull the blankets over my head. An emptiness eats its way through my insides.
    If it were just Sam, they’d still be together.
    From my jeans pocket comes the beep-beeping I get when someone texts me a message. I grab my jeans from the floor and pull my cell phone out: Cassie.
    “Got mssg frm Kevin 2 go 2 mvie 2morrow. I said NO.”
    I blink at the screen and at the same time I blink back tears. Why the hell is she telling me this? To ruin my night? Just in case it’s not bad enough the way it is?
    I turn off my phone.
    I hear my mother’s tinny voice and then the front door shutting. Then the sound of the clang of a bottle as my dad grabs another beer from the fridge. Pretty soon, I’ll smell cigarette smoke seeping through the crack under the door.
    I lie down on the mattress again, but can’t get comfortable. I roll onto my stomach and then onto my back. But nothing helps.
    I’m not even comfortable in my own skin.
     

October 28 th
     
    “Help,” I whisper to Cassie, again.
    This time she pulls away from me and searches my face. “What? What did you say?”
    “I need your help. I’m not who you think, Cass. I’m not. I ... ” I swallow, hoping I can spit it out. I’m not sure I can voice what’s really happened. But I don’t know what else to do. “I’m ... I’m Sylvie ... stuck ... in this body. I got stuck and I tried but I can’t get out. I know it doesn’t make sense, but it’s true. And I’m freaking out, Cass. You’ve gotta help me.” The words sound far away, almost distant. Like someone else is saying them.
    Someone else is saying them. In a way. Ha. If it weren’t tragic it’d be hilarious. I start laughing and can’t stop. Big hiccoughing laughs that hurt my stomach. My head. My heart.
    “Why are you saying this? Why are you doing this? Stop laughing!” Cassie’s voice is trembling.
    But I can’t stop. I can’t do anything.
    “Shut up.” Cassie narrows her eyes at me.
    Finally, my laughter dies and I take a few calming breaths. The only way to convince her is to list our secrets, so I do: “We’re blood sisters. Since age ten ... You collect butterflies ... Your parents—”
    But Cassie cuts me off. “Stop talking!” She screams it, loud and clear for everyone on our street to hear. “I don’t know why you would do this, but if you say one more word, I swear I’ll scratch your eyes out!”
    I open my mouth, then close it right away. She’s got killer fingernails. She could easily do it.
    Behind her, her dad’s voice calls out hoarsely, “All right, I’m ready. Let’s go.” He steps out onto the porch, his hair mussed, a bleary, worried look on his face. “Your mom ... can’t make it right now.”
    Hearing this, Cassie’s eyes flash like they do when she’s angry, but it lasts only a second. She turns to me. “I’m going to the hospital.”
    “Take me,” I whisper. I have to get to my body. And maybe ... maybe he’s in there. In