When Jackson kissed me goodbye, I no longer felt the guilt I did when loved ones of these girls kissed them goodbye. It broke my heart at first. I would cry uncontrollably and apologize profusely to them. They had no idea what was going on, but I did. In less than twenty-four hours I was going to be somebody new.

I don't know why it's happening. For the last thirty-five days I have woken up every morning as someone new. I can't even remember my life before this. I search through these girls' wallets to see what their names were and who they are, but I don't know what my name is or who I am.

When I went back up to Cassandra's apartment, I threw everything off of the couch. I used my arms to swipe all of the dishes, clothes and towels down onto the floor and began pushing the couch forward. I pushed it towards the door, hitting the table end and knocking the lamp down onto the floor. It didn't matter if I broke everything of hers, she wasn't going to need it anymore.

I needed to try and trap myself in this apartment. If I can't leave after I black out, then maybe I'll wake up as Cassandra. I would do anything to make this stop.

I pushed the couch until it was up against the front door. Next, I grabbed everything I could find and piled it in front of the door. Barricading myself inside these girls' houses never helped, but I couldn't stop myself from trying. I had to at least try to stop it.

Once all of the junk in this cluttered apartment was in front of the door, I flopped back down onto her bed. I rolled myself up in the blankets and closed my eyes.

These days seemed to drag on forever.

--

My stomach began to growl and I raided her fridge. It didn't surprise me to see that everything in her fridge was disorder and chaos, just like the rest of her apartment. I opened up random Tupperware containers and sniffed what's inside. I finally settled on one container that I assumed was chicken noodle soup. I put it into the microwave and searched through her drawers for a spoon.

The microwave beeped and I pulled out the steaming bowl of soup. I dropped it on the counter and looked across the apartment at the television. I try avoid turning the TV on for as long as I can. I hated seeing people crying over the person I used to be.

There was a stereo underneath the television. I walked over and opened up the cupboards under the stereo and I found Cassandra's collection of CDs. I was surprised to see that they were neatly lined up in the cupboard. This must have been something she really cared about.

As I looked through them, I threw the crappy boy band ones over my shoulder. I finally found a band I listened to and popped into the slot. I turned up the volume and went back over to the kitchen singing along. I ate my soup and in between bites I danced along to the music.

After I was full of soup, I moved into the now empty living room. I turned up the music and hoped that it would bother the neighbors. If the barricades don't work, I hope the neighbors find Cassandra before her body starts to rot.

The pain started to twist in my stomach as the rose of darkness began to bloom in my eyes. I fell down onto my knees as I screamed out in pain. I rolled over onto my back as my chest heaved up and down and the darkness completely filled my vision.

This has happened to me every night for the past thirty-six days.

--

My eyes hurt as I slowly opened them up. The room was pitch black, and I was laying down on my stomach in a mess of blankets. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness in the room, I noticed that there were drapes covering the windows.

The room quickly filled with light and burned my eyes, but then went away. I realized that someone had opened a door when I felt a weight settle itself on the other side of the bed. The person reached out their hands and started to rub my back.

"Jenna, are you awake?" he asked me.

I groaned as I rolled over towards him. My head was throbbing and my mouth and throat were craving a sip of water. I nuzzled myself into this man's chest and ran my arms across his stomach. I didn't know this man and I was clinging to him. I wouldn't have done this before this all started, but times have changed. I haven't seen anyone I recognized in over a month.

The man wrapped me up in his arms and pulled me closer to him. He ran his fingers through my hair, but his fingers never passed below my ears. My hair must be short.

"What did you do last night?" he asked me.

"I don't remember," I mumbled. A strip of fire ran down my throat.

"This is why I hate it when you go out with Emily," he told me. "You get so drunk that you blackout and don't remember anything."

A hangover. That would explain this sick feeling I have. It sucked that I didn't at least get to have the fun of being drunk before.

"Would you like to have something to drink?" he asked.

"Yes," I croaked.

He reached out behind himself and then I shimmed myself up higher on his chest. My stomach twisted and I felt like I was going to be sick at any moment. He brought up a glass to my lips and I drank back the cold water. I felt it as it ran down its way down my throat and into my stomach. He pulled the cup away from me.

"Promise me that next time I work nights you won't go out partying with Emily," he said.

"I promise I won't," I told him.

If he has one more day left with Jenna, I might as well make it good. It's the least I could do.

I ignored the sickening feeling in my stomach and drifted back to sleep.

--

When I woke up again, the bed was empty. That man who was with me was no longer there. My muscles were sore as I reached them up over my head. I slowly got out of bed and was happy that my stomach stopped twisting.

I saw two doors along the dark blue walls. I took a quick look around to see that it was covered in white paint designs. There was a dragon, an owl, an Eiffel Tower and bouquets of flowers covering the bare spaces. I must have drawn all of these. I've always wanted to be an artist and now I finally get the chance to be one.

I shuffled my feet over to the door closest to the corner of the room. Behind it was a bathroom and I walked over to the counter so I could see myself in the mirror.

This was the shortest I have been in a while. I probably just passed the five foot height. My face was chubby and it was framed by short layers of my dark hair. I picked up the hair brush by the sink and ran it through my hair and then tucked it behind my ears. I noticed that I was just wearing a T-shirt, so I went back into the bedroom.

Luckily, this girl was a lot more organized than Cassandra. I opened up the cupboards of her dresser until I found a pair of jeans and a grey and purple striped sweater.

I went over to the other door and opened it up. The walls were covered in artwork and posters were framed up too. A brown couch sat in front of a television and the kitchen was off to the side. I saw a mop of dark brown hair poking out from the top of the couch. He had the television on and my stomach flipped when I saw it was the news.

I spotted a pile of envelopes on the kitchen counter and started going through them. I spotted the same name on every envelope. Jenna Williamson.

"Are you finally awake?" the man yelled back at me.

"Yeah," I asked looking through the envelopes. I had a hefty sum of bills adding up. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Do you even realize what time it is, Jen?" he asked me. "It's almost two."

"In the afternoon?"

"You slept off that hangover pretty well."

I opened up the cupboards until I found the glasses. I closed the doors quietly, so that the man didn't realize that I didn't know where anything was in my own kitchen. Once I finally found one, I filled it full of water and went over to the couch.

The man's mop of dirty blonde hair hung down over his grey eyes. He had a ring in the side of his lip and when he shook his hair out of my eyes I saw a metal rod was through his eyebrow. He looked at me as I sat down beside him and smirked.

"Are you at least feeling better now?" he asked me.

"Yeah, I feel great," I told him.

"The Reaper Syndrome case has claimed yet another life of a young woman," the reporter on the television said.

I turned my attention to the TV. The same woman as yesterday stood there in another terrible looking suit. I could spot the caution tape wrapped around Cassandra's apartment building.

"The thirty-sixth victim is twenty-two-year-old Cassandra Lowe. Neighbors complained about excessive noise coming from the apartment. When police came to her apartment, the door was barricaded shut," the reporter continued to explain.

"I was talking to Kevin earlier and he said that for Friday-" the man started to tell me.

"Shush," I cut him off. I may try to avoid watching the news, but now that it was on I wanted to hear it.

"What was that for?" he snapped.

"I want to watch this," I told him.

"Why?" he asked me. "This Reaper Syndrome stuff freaks you out."

I ignored him and focused my attention on the screen. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and ignored me.

"They have already brought her body in for an autopsy earlier today. The results haven't been released yet, but she seems to have suffered from the same cardiac arrest. Her eyes were fully dilated to cover her entire iris.

"Police originally believed that this was some kind of twenty-four virus that they could not detect. All of these women have been reported to be acting strangely as if they were suffering from amnesia the day of their death. However, police are now believing that there could possibly be a predator out there drugging these girls. Nothing is confirmed."

They showed a quick shot of them carrying Cassandra's dead body out of the apartment building in a black body bag. Jenna's body was soon about to do the same.

I saw a sketchbook sitting on the coffee table in front of me. It sat on top of a mess of magazines opened up to random pages. I moved the pages around until I found a pencil and I picked up the sketchbook.

I thought of a bouquet of flowers and let my hand guide itself across the page. I was amazed as I watched the flowers appear on the page. I never was able to draw, so I was enjoying this. I had figured out before that I have the talents of whatever girl's body I am. Some days I can sing, others I'm more flexible, and on days like today I can draw.

I spent the rest of my day drawing and tried to keep my answers as simple as I could when the man would talk to me. I nodded my head mostly and told him I had a headache, so I brought the sketchbook into the bedroom and lied down on the bed.

I was happy that he stayed out on the couch, but I was praying that he would go home. It was too late because he was still there as pain twisted in my stomach. I screamed out in pain as my vision started to darken.

"Jen?" the man yelled out as he ran into my house.

I couldn't stop myself from screaming as it felt like a weight was crushing against my chest. When I opened my eyes I could see the panic on his face.

"Jen, what is it?" he asked me.

I couldn't breathe anymore and my chest started to tighten. He grabbed my hands and moved them away from my chest to make sure I wasn't injured. My vision went completely black.

"Don't worry. I'm calling an ambulance," was all I could hear.

But it didn't matter because it was too late. Jenna was dead.