A/N: Thank you BuJyo and Kay8abc for your reviews! I forgot to mention that when I did the first chapter last week that I finally got one of the smart phones that have internet! So nice, let me tell you. It won't let me upload chapters or edit text of my documents but I can put all of the contents in an email and email my friend so now I can update whenever I have a chapter ready. Hopefully I'll be updating more often.

Let me tell you. Living through your own death is the most disturbing experience ever. Buried alive might be a close second, but being dead and coming back to a new body is a real bitch.

Figures, people surrounded me instantaneously. I couldn't focus on them, and the sudden barrage of questions. Nurses checked the room, while another one tried to guide me back to the bed. I refused to move though. I'd keep blinking, pinching myself, trying to make my brain see my own body again, not Charlotte's. For a moment, I looked farther than my new body and noticed a woman leaning against the wall, smirking. Short brown hair framed her face, and she was, if I had to make a guess, about the same height as my old self.

In my shock of seeing her, the nurse that was trying to get me to move managed to drag me out of the restroom and put me back on the bed. I folded my arms tightly, to make it more difficult for the nurse to put the IVs back in.

"Charlotte," the nurse sighed. "It would be easier for both of us if you let me put the IV back in."

"I'm not Charlotte!" I growled.

"Honey, if you want to say something, just do it, instead of just mouthing the words."

My eyes widened. I was sure I said that out loud. I took a breath and slowly, concentration on actually talking, I said, "I am not Charlotte." I swore when I realized no sound had exited my lips. That Seana Barbie bitch didn't just take my voice when I visited her, she took it from my life as well.

The woman I saw in the restroom came into the room and stood on the other side of the bed from the nurse, bent down and whispered softly into my ear, "You, my dear, are Charlotte, perhaps not before, but you must certainly are now."

The nurse ran off, and I assumed she went to get a doctor. I turned back to the woman, "Who are you?" I asked.

"Suzanne, I am."

I closed my eyes and and tried to stop the panic that was quickly rising. It figures that I get Charlotte's delusions as well. I opened my eyes in time to see Marshall running past my door.

"Oh my god," I whispered. He knows about my death.

Thing is, when I awoke in Charlotte's body, I was on an adrenaline rush. I needed to see who's body I was in and I needed to know fast. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, when I slipped off the bed, I fell onto the floor. The thing is, when you suddenly have shorter limbs, it's like relearning to walk. You can't walk as fast, and there is a much shorter distance to being either face first in the ground or falling flat on your ass. Trust me, walking with smaller limbs and a body that isn't yours is much more difficult than you would think.

I heard chuckles coming from Suzanne as I stumbled across the room. I didn't have much more luck out in the hallway, but there were no doctors or nurses out here to drag me back to my room. At the far end of the hallway, I noticed Marshall's form, arms on either side of the door, the door I suspected was the morgue. Even from here, I could tell he wasn't sure if he should go in. I managed to get to him, and said his name softly. Of course, he didn't hear me, or even notice my presence, so I tugged on his shirt sleeve. If I didn't know how distraught he was, I would have laughed at how high he jumped, and at the look of shock on his face.

"Charlotte!" he gasped. He gave me a short look over and promptly asked, "What happened? Where are your parents?"

At first I thought about Jinx, and my father. Then I realized that he was talking about Damion and Wendy. Were they dead too, or were they somewhere else in this hospital, injured from the car accident? I leaned toward the dead part, as the morgue door was right here, and I wouldn't have to walk throughout the whole hospital in search for them. Marshall seemed frozen where he was so I pulled his arm so he could come with me. I used him as my support as I pulled him toward the bags. The coroner obviously knew that Marshall was coming and didn't object. Some bags had the clear part to see the face. I found my body in one of these bags. My hair was bloodstained, and some blood caked onto my face. My face was relatively intact, but if I was dead, it was because that truck hit me, and that would mean that the rest of my body was broken and beaten. I shivered and moved to see if I could find 'my' parents. I found them in the bags next to my body. I couldn't stand to look at either of them for more than a brief glance. They had been hit by three cars, including the truck, while I was only hit by one.

I turned back to Marshall. Tears threatened to fall as he struggled to keep a hold of himself. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Why the fuck did I have to die? I couldn't keep the tears from falling as I saw my partner standing there, struggling to hold on. Again, I pulled him away, and back towards my room. As much as I hated hospital rooms, I knew Marshall needed a place where he could have some privacy. I guided him to the foot of the bed and pushed him to sit. Then, I realized that I needed to figure out how the hell I was going to get on the bed myself as Marshall stared at a spot on the wall. The bed was too high for me to just sit my butt down on it, and I doubted I could pull myself on it with my hands and legs.

I tried anyway, and of course, ended up on the ground with a yelp of pain. Thankfully this yelp alerted Marshall, and with his help, I was back on the bed. It took me this long to realize that while I couldn't talk, I could make other sounds such as a scream, or growling. How else would nurses know to come running when I found out I was in another body, or when Marshall got me up on the bed. Still, I was hoping I could see that Seana bitch again just so I could strangle her and use her body parts as decorations on my neighbor's house. I hated, with a burning passion, being weak and defenseless. In Charlotte's body, that was what I was. Not to mention the delusions. I mean, how much crazier could you get?

Once I was settled back in the bed, Marshall moved closer to me, eyes downcast.

"You know Mary," he said, a statement, not a question, but I nodded anyway. "The person everyone would want on your side when you're in trouble. Stubborn too, but that's just part of the charm, you know? She'd never give up. She'd fight until either she or the person she's fighting is dead." He was robotic, emotionless, talking just to do something, and subconsciously stroking my arm. Pain flowed through me as I could only imagine what was going on in his head. "She gone. Mary's gone, and I never get her back."

My pain grew worse as my anger drifted from the person who killed me, to myself. During my life as Mary Shannon, Marshall was my best friend. Not because we were good friends, but because he was my only friend. I treated him like shit, and it seemed most of the time we spoke, I was using it as an attempt to unload, but Marshall never complained. He just took it. He'd still invite me over to his place for pizza and beer. He'd still help me with my life's problems.

I had to change this, to stop this from happening again.

I pulled myself up as best as I could and hugged him. For the first time today, I saw him smile, slowly but surely. "Thank you, Charlotte. You've been an angel."

His smile disappeared again and the tears began to fall.

I leaned into him thinking to myself, wishing he could hear, 'Marshall, you're beating yourself up because you think you lost me. I'm still here, and I'll show you who I am. I just don't know how.'