I could do more things, as time went on. At the start it was just a slight change in facial expression, a nudge towards things. The subtle stuff. I was an inner poultergeist, you could say.
I could have kept on at that forever, I suppose. Subtly creeping her friends out by tweaking one corner of her mouth upwards whenever she talked to them. You’d be amazed the fun you can have, playing around with faces and body language. Like my own private movie theatre, showing the Gradual Breakdown of the Life of Elizabeth H. Pearson, a major motion picture coming soon to cinemas near you.
That said, the subtle stuff gets boring eventually. There’s only so many times you can (metaphorically) grin at someone’s unease, as their friends smile is just a little too wide for comfort.
I began leaving hints, pushing at urges. Definitely more fun. Over the months I think her control began to slip, or I might just have been getting better at subverting it. Either way, the range of things I could do magnified, and it was magnificent. There really is no feeling quite like seeing someone panic, from the best possible vantage point, as they try to comprehend just how that knife went through their palm.
By this point, as you might have guessed, she could hardly even be called the ‘owner’ of this body. Don’t you like what I’ve done with the place?
Super good! I found it just a little too familiar to be comfortable. THAT is some good writing my boy!