"ARE YOU SURE I CAN STILL USE YOUR BODY?" Chase Harper asks with an anxious expression glued on his face.

"I want to help you."

"Your sister's getting worried and I don't want anything bad to happen."

"Come on, it's alright."

With Clare's reflection through the bathroom mirror, Chase can see her continuously bandaging her freshly bruised arm.

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is. Don't worry, Chase."

"Why wouldn't I be worried?"

Clare scuffed, "I'm still here, right? You've been using my body for a few years now and I'm still in good condition."

Chase floats in front of the girl, "Where's the good condition? You're all bruised up."

"We can't help it! You can't feel anything, Chase. I can and you're using my body."

"That's the point!" he tries to grab her hands to stop it from moving but Clare inched away.

"Look, we're almost done. I figured out the convenience store you used to visit. What are you so nervous about?"

"You!" Chase yells, "You're only eleven! What if—"

"Enough with your what if-s. I want to help you! That's what friends do."

"Just—"

"Come on. Go through me," she pulls onto Chase's hands, "Hurry!"

"Clare, you're putting yourself in danger."

"So what? Who cares?!"

"Riley!"

"Go through me already!"

"Clare," Chase hunched over the sink, "Don't be stubborn."

"I just want to see you turn into an angel," tears hesitantly rolled down her face, "I want to catch a glimpse of an angel going to heaven..."

"I'm not an angel."

"You're my friend. Friends are good. Angels are good!"

"Clare, I'm lost, okay? I'm a misplaced soul," he's starting to get mad, anger overpowering his emotions, "Souls aren't angels. I don't even remember where I came from and how I got here!"

"Go through me already!" the young lass wailed causing Chase to be more upset.

And so... He obeyed. He went inside the girl's body with a furious heart and a numb corpse.

The shampoo bottle that was peacefully sitting by the edge of the sink was thrown at the mirror. The toilet paper was pulled as it scattered all over the place yet Chase is still mad. He needed to let go of this emotion.

He grabbed Clare's hair with the girl's hands, tugging it until strands broke off. He didn't feel anything.

He hit the girl's head onto the sink with all his strength, hoping that he would feel the pain but he still didn't feel anything.

He punched the already cracked mirror with Clare's fist as shards of glass sprung all over the surface — on the floor, on her skin, and some on her eyes but he didn't feel a single thing.