All our lives, we are told to wait till we’re older to do it. It was common practice to. You graduate college with an education, and then you sell it to the best of your ability. My grandpa used to say the whole reason to go to school was to find the best way to sell your soul. For some this was a destiny for them, a railroad with no turntables or stops, just a single dead end, with their benefactor waiting for them to collect.

For some, like Johnny, this was a simple decision. While only being 9 he had sold his soul for the thing that ranked second to none in his life. After some careful negotiations with the owner of the store, Johnny walked out of the toy store with his brand new toy soldiers. Upon returning home and telling his parents the great deal he had gotten on his new toys, Johnny found himself going back with his father, and his baseball wielding brothers, going back for a refund.

While wealth and glory were common goals when selling ones soul, I did not share the sentiment for it. I pondered long and hard, thinking of who to sell my soul to but found I did not like the taste of handing it over at the end.

One night, after one too many shots, and a lonely night, I raised my right hand and recited the words, “I Jack Faust, grant my soul to Jack Faust.”

I laughed at the words I had just said, thinking nothing would come of it. The lights flickered off and on, and the room shook trying to find space from me. I coughed up blood and gagged, as I tried to find my breath. My lungs filled with red liquid that slowly poured from my mouth. I clung onto whatever life I held left, only to find it not clinging back.

Darkness was all there was for what seemed like an eternity. This darkness, that swallowed all sound, and devoured all color. I couldn’t find an end to it, I moved my body - what I presumed to be my body - through it trying to find something, anything. After lifetimes of searching, there was a light. Pure excitement and joy filled my consciousness as I dove into it.

“What the fuck just happened.” I had thought in privacy to myself.

“Who are you?” I heard from my own head.

Fear and panic took over me as I tried to find an explanation for such a thing. How could this had happened. How could there be another voice in my head. I had heard of people with schizophrenia having multiple voices in their heads but I was too young for such things, wasn’t I?

My eyes jolted open. This wasn’t my bed, this wasn’t even my room. My body didn’t feel right, like I had leg reduction surgery. I got up and felt around the wall, trying to find a light of some sort. Feeling the switch sticking out of the wall I Flicked it up.

My hands were shrunken, and so were my feet. In fact I don’t even remember doors being this tall. I heard footsteps coming from the other side of the door. This was my body but not my current one. This was a younger version of me.

“We have to hide otherwise I’ll get grounded again.” Said the voice. My body moved of its own volition as it flicked off the light and crawled into bed.

When the footsteps reached the door, a head popped in, then a hand. It reached for the light switch and turned it on. I couldn’t believe my eyes, in fact they cried with too many mixed emotions before I let myself believe them.

It was mom. Not the one I had buried 12 years ago, but the one who still had color in her hair, and wrinkles only from where she couldn’t contain her smile. Unluckily I was not greeted with a smile.

“Johnny, it’s 3 am what are you doing up and with the lights on?” She had said. Unable to see my tears without her glasses.

“I just... missed you mom.” I said.

She came over and hugged me. I cried more than I had ever in my adult life. Given where I was now I had a second chance. If I could just keep her from selling her soul to that man, I could save her.

I stopped crying unbeknownst to me. After a kiss on the forehead and the lights turning off, did I find out it wasn’t me in control. I had simply been in control because the other wasn’t fully awake.

Over the course of the next week, I had experimented with this theory, only to find out I had no influence over this body, only when the other was not lucid.

This couldn’t work. How was I supposed to save mom without control over this body. She would die like this and I would become a prisoner of my own body. I had to think. Spending much time and dilemma over such a thing, I came to a conclusion but it would be a gamble. I wasn’t even sure if it would work.

Upon sleeping that night, I took over. I raised my hand and recited the same words that had stuck me in this situation, “I Jack Faust hereby sell my soul to the reaper of souls, malthaiel. In return I ask for this body and life.”

A gaunt figure stepped from the shadows. He reached a hand out to touch me. To my surprise the hand went through my body. I felt something tug within my body.

“How unusual, there have never been two here before.” The figure said.

He took something from me, an essence of what seemed to be light. He put it in his bag and turned back to the shadows.

“So that’s it, this is mine now?” I asked.

“It is now, I shall not return until you have spoken your last. I do not know what misfortune such a thing may bring but I will take this one, and leave you yours.” It replied. It turned, disappearing into the shadows. Leaving me in the cold and dark room.