By Lilian St. Clair-Foster, TIWP Student

Who’s that woman in the photo?
I gulp as I look down at the paper in front of me.
What should have been a selfie of me with my first house was photobombed by a lady in blue standing in the room that’s soon to be mine.
I tense, falling to my knees as I try to force myself to turn around but I can’t.
My eyes were glued to the stranger in MY room.
What should have been impossible is that it seemed to be almost fullscreen, as I was unable to look past the frame of the printed out picture.
Kneeling in the gravel leading to my front steps I’m forced to watch as the colors start to move.
The lady smiled and waved at what I thought was me, before retreating back into the photographed room. And I’m forced to watch by what feels like hands around my neck as the ink melds and changes color to show the women traveling around MY house. Leaving the lights on in each room she walked through.
And by the time she reached the front door, barely a piece of wood away from me, tears were already rolling down my face in cascades of salty water.
I gasp as I feel the ghost hands slip away from my neck as I’m finally able to look back, only for the hands to be replaced by real ones.
My eyes close, and when I open them I’m facing away from my home…
On the gravel…
Standing up…
And taking a selfie….
I shakingly take a single hand up to touch my face as I check the currently printed photo. Only to drop onto the ground with a scream.
In the photo where I should have been was the smiling, blue dressed woman.
Despite my racing heart my brain could only handle a single thought…
Who was the woman in the photo?