[ WP ] You 've never been in control of your body . You always sit from afar watching strangers inhabit your body and make your decisions . Sometimes , one stranger goes and another replaces them . Today , you find yourself in control . Slowly , you begin to realize what the strangers were doing .

I must have missed something, and I think I know how I did. If I had known... Well, to be honest, I do n't know how I would have acted. Maybe nothing would have changed. Maybe everything would have. 
 
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 I watched for ages as other people controlled my body, lived my life, made my decisions. They came and they went, but it was always them in control. I watched them most of the time, but sometimes they just stayed up *so* late, and I could n't stay awake to watch them. Over time, my sleeping schedule gradually rotated away from when they were actually awake. I found myself sleeping through the boring stuff, as they got ready in the morning, and awake at night staring at a sleeping body. I did n't mind it, though. It was nice to have the time to just sit and ponder - initially, to go over strategies to get my body back. Eventually, though, I gave up on that regard - nothing seemed to work. 
 
 And so I sat there, night after night, on the chair in the corner, watching my own body sleep for a few hours before drifting off myself. Sometimes I tried to give the strangers dreams, influence their choices. I'm not sure whether that ever worked, or if the times the choices they made lined up with my desires was due to coincidence. 
 
 One Saturday morning, I awoke in the bed. *Strange*, I thought to myself. I almost never slept on the bed, or on anything solid in general. One of the perks of not inhabiting my body, I suppose. Everywhere was nice and comfortable, easy to relax on. 
 
 As I moved to fluidly look for my body, I met with some pretty hefty resistance. I felt... heavy. When I looked at how the bed sank beneath myself, I knew the truth. *I'm back. * 
 
 After the requisite couple of minutes looking at myself, jumping around, and pinching myself to make sure I was really back, I headed downstairs to make myself breakfast for the first time. After triggering the smoke alarm twice, I had myself a passable meal of bacon, eggs, and toast. *Maybe I should have started a little simpler. They made it look so easy... * 
 
 Eventually, I head back upstairs to begin looking through my desk. *Good thing it's Saturday. Plenty of time to get a handle on things. * I pause as I notice a thick journal. I'd seen when Number Five, or maybe it was Six, bought the thing, but after Six left I had n't seen anyone else write in it. I'd never read it, figuring it contained the usual daily whinings and such. I've never been big on journals. 
 
 I flipped it open, curious. More than half the pages had writing. The only way I could figure it was that full was that Seven and everyone since had been writing in it in the mornings, before I woke up. *Might as well read through it. Do n't really have anything I need to do this weekend. * 
 
 As I read, I slowly began to get a handle on, well, everything that had happened over the past years. There was so much I had missed, and I'm still not quite sure how I had. I guess my apathy after the first few years just got the better of me. 
 
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 *Might continue this later tomorrow. I know I have n't really gotten to the prompt itself yet. *
