Short Horror Stories

It was towards the end of my senior year when I stumbled upon it.

Deep in the dusty, forgotten corners of the attic, nestled at the bottom of an old, cedar-scented trunk, lay my grandma's diary. Its leather cover was cracked with age, and the pages, brittle and yellowed, were filled with elegant, looping script. It wasn't the usual family history or mundane daily entries; instead, it was a meticulous record of the strange and the arcane: ancient Indian rituals.

My eyes, however, immediately fixed on one particular entry, its ink darker, as if revisited often: the ritual of body swapping. It promised the user's soul could transfer to another's body. A thrill, both nervous and exhilarating, shot through me.

Just for a week, my best friend and I decided. A taste of each other's lives. She, the mousy, studious, kind-of-cute girl everyone overlooked. Me, the hot, rich, smart girl at the high school everyone wanted to be. It sounded like the perfect, harmless adventure.