Color Me Pretty

his arms with their tiny scars, his beautiful brown eyes. I hope he hasn't given up on me. But he should. Emmett should go find a girl who's happy with herself, that makes him happy. He doesn't even know me, not really. I mean, maybe he already has walked away, thrown my stuff on the lawn, gone out to drinks with a pretty blonde from work.
    The rage turns into a fury. I fling the blankets back and stare down at my legs.
    My stomach rolls and I end up leaning back with my eyes focused on the ceiling and tears pouring down my cheeks. What did I just see? What just happened? I sniffle and sit up again.
    I'm not wearing Valentino anymore, not Alexander McQueen, not Roberto Cavalli. No, no. Claire Simone has fallen far. She's got on a pale blue hospital gown, thin, cheap, like a wisp of smoke hovering around these … these sticks. A scream builds in my throat. I see sallow skin wrapped around bone and knees that are bigger than my calves. I lift my hands up to my face, catch a glimpse of white bandages wrapped around my wrists. My fingers are so little, long and thin, like witch hands.
    No. No. This isn't me. I glance around quickly, eyes flickering back and forth like fireflies. I'm fat. Claire Simone is fat and huge and disgusting. I pull my legs over the edge and let my bare feet hit the floor. No, her feet. They aren't mine. I have pudgy feet with big, ugly toes.
    I stand up and drag myself over to the table next to the partially open bathroom door. The IVs and the feeding tube come with me, pulling their metal stands along behind me.
    I snatch one of the cards from a jar of roses.
    Get well soon! We love you, Claire. -Jenn and Leanne
    I toss it to the floor. Next card.
    Claire, you are and always have been one of God's angels. -Auntie C.
    Floor. Card.
    I'm sorry, and I love you, Claire. -Marlena
    All of these pieces of paper with my name on them. My heart starts to pound and my vision whirls, sending me stumbling sideways. But of course. What did you expect? That you'd switched bodies with someone? This is you, Claire. And you're not fat. You're skinny, Claire. You're skinny and you're dying. That's the truth, so get over yourself and deal with it or they'll deal with it for you.
    I hit the edge of the bed and I start to fall. The door opens and people rush in, but they don't get to me in time. My head smacks the floor and I get the rare and blessed opportunity to flee this world for another, at least temporarily.

When I wake this time, my vision and my sanity return much more quickly. I know where I am, and I know what's going on. I open my eyes just a little, just enough that I can see who's here, but not enough that they know I'm awake. I listen to the conversation carefully, trying to catch up.
    “The thing is, Mom,” Marlena begins, and red fills my head for a moment. I hate her. I hate her so much it makes my chest hurt. The things she said to Emmett, the way she looked at him, the way she looked at me. I want her to go away and never come back. She doesn't understand me, and she never will. Never. “Bayview Hills is nice, but it's not equipped to handle a case as severe as Claire's.” Movement from my right. I want to look and see, but I don't want them to know I'm awake. As soon as they do, this conversation will stop and their plans will remain in the dark. I have to know my fate, figure out how to take control back. If they knew that my issues were at least partially related to control, maybe they'd rethink the way they were handling this. But they don't. They don't know shit about me or my feelings or that rapacious, little monster inside me.
    “I don't want to send her away, Marlena,” Mom sniffles, scooting her chair across the floor. I still can't see her, but my hearing's in overdrive and I catch snippets of creaking plastic, metal scraping linoleum.
    “This isn't permanent, honey.” Big Bob. Crap. From big to small, Big Bob sees it all. If he glances this way, he'll know I'm awake. I remain very still, doing my best to ignore the feeling of the tube up my nose. It's probably the single most disturbing thing I've ever experienced. Just the knowledge that I'm being fed without my express permission gives me the chills. “If we want her to get better, we have to do what's necessary. Besides, Crescent Springs is only three hours away. It's not like we couldn't make weekend trips up there to visit.”
    Marlena snaps her fingers. While my parents sit off to the side, Marlena stands at the foot of