With You

Chapter One

Aliya stared at the flickering cursor on her screen, the white canvas of the design program on her tablet empty except for a single, half-formed line of text. She sighed, twirling the pen between her fingers, its rhythmic motion a familiar comfort in moments of her creative block. From the outside, anyone passing by might think she was just lost in thought. But inside her mind, another conversation was already happening.

"You're overthinking it again," came the voice, clear and firm, cutting through Aliya's thoughts.

Aliya closed her eyes, leaning back in her chair. "Maybe, but I don't know how to start," she admitted quietly, although she wasn't alone in this admission. Elena, her ever-present companion. She had been there as long as she could remember, hovering in the back of her mind, sometimes guiding, sometimes criticizing. It was like having a second person inside her head, watching, waiting to pounce when she hesitated.

"It's simple," Elena said, her voice tinged with amusement. "You've done a thousand of these. Just put something on the screen and fix it later."

Aliya exhaled slowly and set her pen on blue, drawing a few swift lines, forcing herself to begin. The silence in the apartment felt heavier than usual, and she hated it. Silence had a way of amplifying Elena's presence, making her voice louder, more insistent.

The lines began to take shape on the screen - an outline for a logo, simple and clean, the way Aliya preferred. She leaned in, finding a rhythm. Her pen moved with quick precision, making small adjustments, aligning elements, adding splashed of colour. Slowly, it started to look like something. It was better, but not perfect.

"There you go," Elena's voice said, the approval warm. "See? You don't need me to hold your hand through everything."

Aliya's lips twitched into a small smile, though there was an edge to it. Elena often alternated between moments of sharpness and moments of warmth, depending on what she thought Aliya needed at the time. Sometimes it helped. Sometimes it just made everything worse.

Outside her window, the late afternoon sun was beginning to dim, casting long shadows across the street below. Her apartment sat on the fourth floor of an old, creaky building, filled with mismatched furniture she'd collected over the years. It was quiet, but it was hers. The space was filled with books, plants that somehow clung to life, and her photography - black-and-white prints framed the walls, capturing slices of the world in sharp, still moments.

Her phone buzzed, lighting up with a text from Leila, one of her closest friends.

Dinner at seven? You've been hiding for too long.

Aliya smirked. Leila always knew when to check in. Sometimes Aliya wondered if Leila could sense when things were off, though she never suspected the real reason behind Aliya's occasional distance. No one did. Elena was a secret, a part of her she couldn't explain, even to herself.

"Are you going?" Elena asked.

"I don't know. I haven't seen them in a while."

"Then go. You can't stay locked in here forever,"  Elena urged, her voice slipping into its more persuasive tone. " You'll feel better if you're around people. It's not healthy to be alone all the time, Aliya."

Aliya felt the tension in her shoulders loosen slightly. She always trusted Elena's advice, despite knowing the voice was just a fragment of herself. Sometimes she thought of Elena as her protector - an extension of her own intuition, something sharper and bolder than she ever dared to be on her own.

By the time Aliya stood in front of the mirror to get ready for dinner, the sky had fully darkened. She brushed her hair out, the long, dark strands falling to her shoulders, framing her face. Her reflection stared back, calm and collected, but she could feel the undercurrent of chaos beneath it - faint but ever-present.

"Wear the blue one," Elena suggested. "You know it looks better."

Aliya glanced at the clothes strewn across her bed, picking up a deep blue dress. She'd worn it before - comfortable, stylish, but not too flashy. She slid into it, adjusting the neckline and giving herself one last look in the mirror. Not bad.

She hesitated, running her fingers along the hem, feeling a flutter of uncertainty. "What if I don't feel like talking much tonight?" she asked.

"Then don't," Elena replied smoothly. "You're allowed to just listen. You're allowed to be quiet."

Aliya sighed in relief. That was the thing about Elena - when Aliya doubted herself, Elena filled the gap. When she hesitated, Elena pushed her forward. Sometimes Aliya wasn't sure if it was comforting or suffocating, but she'd learned not to question it. Over time, the line between her and Elena had blurred, and they existed together, inseparable. No one else knew, and that was how it had to stay.

Dinner was at a small, cosy restaurant downtown, where Leila and a few others were already waiting when Aliya arrived. The place had soft lighting, the kind that made everyone look warm and familiar, and the hum of conversations blended into a comfortable background noise.

"Smile," Elena's voice whispered. "You've been gone for too long. They'll worry if you don't look happy."

Aliya plastered on a smile as she greeted everyone, hugging Leila briefly and settling into the chair they'd saved for her. The conversation flowed easily, laughter mixing with the clinking of glasses and the shuffle of plates. Aliya participated, though she was mostly quiet, listening to her friends chatter about their lives, their work, their relationships. She envied how easy it all seemed for them - so straightforward, so unburdened.

"You're doing fine," Elena reminded her, the voice quieter now, a faint echo in the back of her mind.

Aliya nodded slightly, sipping her wine. She knew Elena was right. This was how things had always been. She could function, she could smile and laugh, and no one would ever know the constant presence lingering in her mind, guiding her, prodding her forward when she faltered.

As the night wore on, Aliya let herself relax into the moment, into the familiar rhythm of conversation and companionship. For now, at least, it felt like enough.

Later, walking home alone, the night air cool against her skin, Aliya paused for a moment under the dim glow of a streetlamp. The city hummed quietly around her, distant traffic, the occasional flicker of headlights.

"You did well tonight," Elena said softly. "I'm proud of you."

Aliya smiled faintly at the praise, but there was something else there, too - something that had been simmering under the surface. An unease she couldn't shake. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but it gnawed at her all the same.

"What if you weren't here?" she asked suddenly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

The silence that followed was palpable, heavy, and for a moment, Elena didn't respond.

"I always will be," Elena said finally, her voice soft but firm. "You'll never be alone."

Somehow, Aliya wasn't sure if that was comforting or terrifying.