Conscience

1.

I stared at the paper.

It stared back at me.

The numbers didn't make sense. They never did. They were all jumbled up and I never knew how to lay them out to get the right answer. I couldn't remember a single formula, strategy or step.

I was getting a 98 in this class.

I stared back at the paper. I focused on the question with all my might. The sounds of the clock ticking, pencils scratching, and my teacher's fingers tapping on her phone's keyboard faded to the background of my mind. If I put all my attention on the question, then just maybe...

The answer came to me.

-b plus or minus the square root of b squared minus 4ac over 2a.

Oh right, the quadratic formula. I silently thanked the voice in my head. I plugged in the number and just managed to type the number into my calculator and scribble my answer down onto my paper before the bell rang. Finally, I was done with second period. I just had to make it through third and then I would have lunch.

"Thank you Lark," Ms. Becker smiled at me as I handed her my test paper. "Have a nice weekend."

"You too." I nodded at her. All of my teachers liked me. It was weird, I wasn't usual type you would associate with as a teacher's pet. At the same time, I got good grades and didn't ask questions, what more could they ask for in a student?

I didn't need to ask questions.

"There's my beautiful girlfriend," Chase Nali stopped me a little ways from locker and kissed me.

I pushed him away. "Stop it Chase, I'm gonna be late for class."

"Come on baby, all the teachers love you. I think you can be late once," he insisted.

I stepped back. "I'll see you at lunch, Chase. Meet me at one of the tables near the door."

He yelled "Always," after me, but I was already lost in the sea of kids making their way to their third period classes.

Sometimes I wondered why I was still with Chase. I liked him, don't get me wrong, but I wasn't in love with him. Every time he said he loved me and I said it back it sounded so forced to me. I probably should break up with him, but it just seemed like it would require so much effort to break someone's heart. Besides, he was a nice guy. He deserved better than me.

Take staircase B.

I nodded, though I wasn't sure if the voice in my head could pick up on my head movements. Scampering up the staircase, I was relieved to notice it was significantly less crowded than the hallway had been. The voice always knew the quickest way to get to class.

It might seem weird to people that I have an all-knowing voice that talks to me, and only me. I used to tell people about it when I was younger, but after countless weirded-out looks and numerous visits with several different psychologists I stopped talking about it.

For as long as I could remember, my thoughts had not been exclusively mine. There was someone else in my head, always with me. Guiding me, giving me advice, providing answers when I had none.

I liked to think of what the voice would look like if it had a body. Definitely female. Sometimes I pictured her with waist-length blonde curls and piercing blue eyes. Other times she had a black bob and ruby red lips.

Most often, she looked exactly like me.

"Yo, Lark, you there?"

I snapped out of my thoughts to see my best friend, Esmee, waving her hand in front of my face.