“Ten minutes until midnight!” I cheered loudly, grabbing the arm of my best friend Amy. The apartment was bustling, but it wasn’t crowded. The noisy music soon switched to a bubbly tune I was familiar with. Amy and I locked eyes, our smiles growing.

“Come on Syd! We HAVE to dance to our favorite song!” She cheered, dragging me to the makeshift dance floor in the living room. Amy and I danced along to the song smiling.

“This is a great way to end the year together Amy, I am really glad we came to Janet’s party!” I told Amy over the music. She nodded her head in agreement

“I know! This is such a great way to end it after all the fiasco from this year, with your breakup and all” She giggles, noticing my grimace at her words. 

Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I clutched my chest, struggling to catch my breath. I looked at Amy in a panic.

“It’s— happen-ing—“ I croaked out to her. 

The last thing I remember seeing was the blur of the room as I fell to the ground. 

——

The room was entirely coated in white, with obnoxious bright lights shining into my eyes. I groaned, feeling a dull ache.  

“What’s going on?” My hoarse voice barely whispers. As my eyes began to adjust I scanned the room, seeing a tall lady dressed in pale blue hovering beside me. 

“Miss Leen! So happy to see you are finally awake. I was here to check your vitals, but since you are conscious I will advise you to sit up slowly if you choose to, and please let me know if you have any sharp pains.” The lady spoke directly to me, as I began to piece together where I was. When did I get to the hospital? Why can’t I remember what’s going on?

“Uhm, what happened? Everything is fuzzy to me…” I questioned. 

“Your friend brought you in after you collapsed at a party. Your condition had reached its peak and you were experiencing heart failure, but we were fortunate enough to receive you in the perfect time with a suitable donor.” I sat quietly, processing everything. 

Who would have thought I would start off the New Year with surgery? And a new heart? I thought to myself. 

“Are you hungry dear? I can have breakfast sent in for you.” The nurse asked.

I nodded, “Yes please!” She left following my words. Not long after, I see Amy walking into my room. 

“Syd! I am so glad you are okay girl, you scared me so bad.” I felt her arms wrap around the side of my body, giving a warm embrace. 

“Hey at least I’m alright now, new year new heart I guess.” I chuckled. 

The nurse walks back in the room, holding a bowl of oatmeal and fruit. My stomach lurches staring at the gaudy red poison placed in front of me on the tray. 

“Uhm excuse me, I am allergic to strawberries.” I gave a weak smile. The nurse’s eyes widened. I could feel Amy shooting me a confused look.

“Oh I am so sorry! I must have not seen that on your record, I will get you something else.” The nurse hastily retrieves the meal and leaves the room. 

“What was that? Sydney, you aren’t allergic to strawberries.” Amy asked. My lips curved into a frown. 

“What do you mean? I have always been allergic to strawberries?” She shook her head, reaching for her phone in her pocket. Her fingers moved swiftly, scrolling through her phone. I watch her tap a photo before she shows her phone to me. 

“See this? That was your strawberry birthday cake for your 21st. Did the transplant mess with your memory?” My eyes were locked on the photo. Staring at the brunette girl in the picture smiling over the strawberry invested cake, it looked like me, and I knew it was me, but it didn’t feel like it was me. I felt an oncoming migraine from all of this. 

“Well.. maybe it’s just because I just woke up. Hopefully this passes.” I suggested. 

——

It indeed did not pass. It’s been two weeks and I have been discharged and there have been several incidents. From me ordering a completely different coffee order calling it my “usual” when it tasted like bitter death, to me arguing with Amy that my shoe size was a men’s 10, I felt like I was going through an identity crisis! 

“Okay, we already asked the doctor and they can’t explain why it’s happening other than maybe you need a psychiatrist, but this only started happening after the surgery, there has to be something else.” Amy explained, taking a sip of her water on the table. I looked down at my tea on the table, waiting for it to cool down. 

“Where should we even go? I mean, I don’t even know what’s wrong with me or how to explain it. I feel like a different person but it’s only in moments! I can’t stop it!” I was exasperated. This entire thing felt insane and hopeless. 

“Well,” Amy took a bite of her sandwich, chewing it thoroughly, “I’ve been looking, and I think I found this guy who is worth a shot. He’s a philosopher, but I mean we have nothing to lose from hearing what he has to say.” 

I sighed, “Okay, when should we meet him?” 

“We can meet him in 20 minutes. I invited him to this restaurant!” Amy grinned sheepishly. I glared at her.

“Amy! You know I hate springing plans on me impulsively.” I scolded her. 

“See, the Sydney I know would constantly make impulsive plans. It drove all your past boyfriends crazy!” She laughed. It felt like my heart sank hearing this. At this point, I was praying the philosopher guy would have my answers. 

A man with black hair and short rimmed glasses walked through the door scanning the area. Once he caught sight of the table, he strided over greeting us.

“Amy and Sydney right? I am John Craft, pleased to meet you too.” He offered his hand to shake.

“Here you can sit here, thank you for coming really.” Amy spoke politely. 

“Oh it is no problem! So with the information you have given me, I went through multiple philosophical studies, books, and papers. Now, a very common belief within the philosophical realm depending on the type of philosophy is the importance of the body in regards to the soul.” He explained thoroughly, pausing to make sure we were following, “This may be hard to imagine, but I personally believe, and it can be supported by various philosophers, that when you got your heart transplant, the soul of the donor transferred into your body. The reason you are having these confusing memories is because you have another soul with you. This soul is battling with the one you have yourself, which is leading to these different behaviors, interests, thoughts, preferences than before. It is the soul of the donor.” 

I felt chills crawl through my entire body. Amy looked at me worriedly. 

This was insane, right? There’s no way this could be happening to me!

“So… if that’s the case what could we do?” Amy questioned, probably detecting I’m in too much shock to talk. 

“Well, as her good friend I would suggest making a book or list of everything that is about Sydney. Any memories, interest, likes, dislikes, and whatever else to help affirm in confusing moments what is true about Sydney. If you can, I would try to find out as much as you could about the donor, possibly get in contact with a relative of theirs. By doing this you could remind yourself what’s true about you, and what’s true about the donor to try and make the adjustment easier. But there’s really no clear suggestion on how to encourage you to live with two souls inside you, other than trying to find someone who has had the same experience.” John spoke apologetically, I could see his sympathy for my situation. 

“Alright, then let’s do it.” I tried to sound confident. 

——

I kept twirling the seatbelt in front of me, my stomach twisting staring at the entrance of the hospital. 

“I can’t believe I agreed to this. We are totally going to jail.” I mumbled to myself, seated in the passenger seat of the idle car. 

It had been 30 minutes since Amy had parked the car and went on the mission for the donor files. This plan was absurd! Even if she knew someone who worked in the hospital, donor information is highly confidential, how is she going to get the file? And not to mention it was illegal! 

Before I could further spiral panicking about the situation, the sliding doors of the hospital reveal Amy, jogging to the car with a manila folder in hand. She opened the car door, tossing the file to me. She quickly got into the car and drove off, speeding away from our crime scene. 

“Can I open this in my apartment? I honestly don’t want to look yet.” I admitted quietly. 

“Of course Syd, take your time. We are almost home.” 

——

I had asked Amy for privacy in my bedroom as I first opened the file. I was trembling all over, the unknown contents of this file was something I didn’t know how to handle. 

“I hope this will help me in some way knowing the soul inside me.” I whispered, gently opening the file. 

I stared in horror towards the file. I frantically searched every line, looking for some kind of mistake.

“No no no no this can’t be the donor” I pleaded. The tears that welled up in my eyes began to trickle down my cheeks. I let out a broken sob, losing the grip on the folder. I collapsed to the floor, staring at the now scattered file of my donor, my ex-boyfriend.