**Note: I do not own this story. I did not write it. All rights go to the band Famous Last Words. This is copied word for word from the original story**
I feel faint, I feel numb. I feel darkness. This isn't the way the story was supposed to go. Nothing will fix this. Traumatic experiences are like blood stains; they leave a mark long after the initial mess has been cleaned up.
All I did was what the world told me I should do. How often are we told to start over if we don't like where we are in life? Tomorrow's a new day, every day is a new sunrise, seize the day. Our society is all about fresh starts and taking chances, working hard to get what you want, even though wants and needs are sick, savage beasts. The beasts take exactly what they want, and they keep on taking until they get what they desire.
Sunrise came. I took my chance. I worked hard to get what I wanted. My opportunity came pounding at the door and I took it. I had to. I can't be blamed. Remember what I said: every day's a new sunrise.
March 16
The bar I followed her to is getting crowded. It's semi-dark and smells like beer. I spot Elise sitting at one of the tables near the back. It looks quieter back there, more intimate. The seat opposite her is empty. She's waiting for me, I know she is. She's so beautiful, taking small sips of her drink, blotting her lips with a napkin when she finishes.
She was ready sooner than usual today. Every Saturday afternoon for the past two months she has wrapped herself in a skimpy black bathrobe, turned up the music on her stereo and paraded around her house in curlers. From my porch I can see her through her living room window. I am the only member in the audience while she performs her one-woman show. She mouths the lyrics to the songs while she dances around to the music. I know it's all for me: she leaves her blinds open so I can see. When she's ready she takes her curlers out one by one, letting her brown hair tumble down her back. I bet it feels like satin. She paints her face with many brands of make-up and sprays herself with orchid perfume.
She leaves her house at a quarter to 6:00. At 5:30 I make sure to read on the porch swing or weed the flower bed. I didn't know much about gardening before Elise. When I saw her caring for her flowers I knew there was something special about this hobby.
We've spoken twenty-three times since she moved next door last fall, twenty-four if you include tonight. The first was when she brought over mail that had been accidentally delivered to her. My old neighbor never did that. That's how I know Elise is special and that I am special to her. I know she's the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. Her flowery perfume was so fragrant that I went out that night and bought the flowers to place on my bedside table; her scent lingered when I fell asleep, granting me sweet dreams.
The day we met her smile penetrated my skin, deep down into my bloodstream. We introduced ourselves and the sound of my name on her lips ignited something in me, something I've never felt before. It's like bees drawn to honey, or a moth to a flame. Tonight is our night.
Elise looks up and casts a smile in my direction. She looks so beautiful in her red dress, with the long loose curls framing her face. I want to kiss her now. I have to caress her cheek. I've been waiting so long for this.
The guy behind me knocks my shoulder and passes me as he navigates the crowd holding two drinks above his head to keep them from spilling. He apologizes, but I shrug it off. A million people could run into me tonight. I wouldn't care. Nothing can ruin our moment.
Elise's eyes focus on the man who bumped into me, the one with the drinks. He kisses her on the cheek. She takes the drink and holds his hand. He sits in the seat across from her, creeping his hand over her knee and up her thigh. My body turns to ice. She laughs. At him, at something he said. She laughs at him.
He leans across the table and kisses Elise dead on the lips. I expect her to pull back, but she leans in. Each second their lips touch my heart freezes another degree. She mouths the words "I love you." Those words are the final hammer on the wedge driven into my heart. It shatters. I shatter. And the screaming! I wish it would stop. Whoever is screaming sounds as damaged as I feel. He sounds angry, hurt, broken. He has to stop before I explode.
I jerk my head around, searching for the man in pain. People speak loudly over the music playing from the touch-screen jukebox in the corner. They dance and they play pool. They laugh and knock back drinks. No one seems to care that this man is in agony. I lunge for the bar.
"Why isn't anyone helping him?" I spit at the bartender, struggling to steady my breath. Each rise and fall of my shoulders breaks my chest open wider.
"Who? Is someone hurt?" He scans the bar.
"You don't hear him? He won't stop screaming!" I can't breathe.
"Are you alright? Maybe you should take a seat." The bartender raises an eyebrow.
I back away from the bar and shove my way through the crowd. The voice won't stop screaming. I clench my hands to my ears and rush out of the bar. The screaming follows me to my car. I whip my head around; people walk up and down the street, wait for the bus, and drive past in cars. I see no one to accompany the terrible noise I hear. I fall into my car and slam the door shut. The screaming is right in my ears. The murderous sound stalks me the whole drive home. I can't get into my house fast enough. I run into the bathroom and look in the mirror. The screaming won't stop. It echoes through my head.
Elise didn't see me, didn't notice me. She kissed him. The images of her lips against his are burned into my brain. The screaming is ringing in my ears. I slap myself in the face.
"Fix this!" I yell at my reflection. "This is not how our story goes!" I grab a glass from the sink and smash it against the wall. I shrink to my knees and I scream. I mimic the scream of the man in the bar. The anguish, the despair, the helplessness all merge into the sound that spills from my mouth. His screaming stops as mine begins.
You have to get her back. The man's whisper lingers in my ears. I stop screaming and look around me.
"Who is that?" I shout. "Get out of here!"
You need to get her back. I jump to my feet.
"Where are you? I'll call the cops!" I wander out of the bathroom and check the few rooms in my house. There's no one there, though I feel him breathing down my neck.
My heart is pounding. My eyes hurt, my face hurts, my body hurts. I have to pick up the broken glass in the bathroom. I gather four big shards before one slices my finger. Blood drips into the sink. I glance in the mirror to gauge my distraught face and freeze. I'm smiling. I'm miserable, so how can I be smiling? I step back in shock. My reflection stays put, the smile widening on my closed lips. I yank my hand to my face and touch my mouth. I'm not smiling, and my reflection is not touching my... his face.
"What are you?" I whisper. I rub my eyes. My reflection snickers.
Who, not what. I'm you. His mouth doesn't move, but I hear every word he says. I can't breathe, I can't speak, I can't think.
You don't have to. Let me think for you. My body trembles involuntarily. I smack my forehead several times.
"This isn't real. You're not real."
I'm as real as you are. I'm as real as Elise and the man she loves. My reflection, My Other Self, shakes his head sympathetically.
The thought of Elise and the man sends knives through my body.
"She's mine!" I shout, spit flying from my mouth. I sink to the floor. I can't see My Other Self anymore, but I know he's there. His voice is in my head; his words reverberate through my body.
I'll help you get her back.
I cradle my wounded finger, "How?"
What do you do when someone has something you want? You take it from him. Steal her away. She's yours. He is your Enemy.
My Enemy.
"How do I do that?" I take slow breaths to try to get back to my senses.
Wake up. Take control. Make her fall in love with you.
"What if I can't?"
My Other Self slowly leans out of the mirror, shaking his head and clicking his tongue. He sneers.
So naïve. You have so much to learn about yourself.
I press against the wall as hard as I can. My Other Self crawls down the sink, bones cracking with every move, and touches his forehead to mine. I can see him. I can feel him. Up close I notice he's thinner than I am, gaunt with sunken cheeks. A thick band of red circles the pupils in his eyes. His skin is ice cold. His voice sends chills down my spine.
"Where did you come from?" I whisper. My Other Self cracks a smile, revealing a mouthful of pointed teeth. He reaches towards my upper body and gently prods my chest a few times before plunging his hand through my sternum. He grabs hold of my heart and squeezes. I struggle for breath as explosions of pain ripple through my body. He squeezes tighter.
I've been right in here, waiting for you to find me. His voice hisses in my ear. He releases my heart and tugs his hand out of the gaping hole in my chest. I tear my eyes away from my blood on his hand and force myself to look down. There is no hole in my body, there is no blood. I clutch my chest with shaky hands.
"What if I didn't want to find you?" I whisper.
Of course you wanted to. I wouldn't be here if you didn't want me. You want Elise and you'll have her. My Other Self is so confident I have to believe him. I have no other choice. I'm cold, I'm tired, and there's glass and my inner demon on the floor. He beckons me to put my head in his lap. I have no energy to protest this cold blooded monster.
I curl up on the floor, my heavy head and heavier heart resting against my beast. I sneak a glance at him. He stares at the wall, lost in thought. He runs his tongue slowly across his jagged teeth, round and round his mouth it goes.
I close my eyes, breathe deeply, and think of Elise. I picture her cooking dinner and doing her morning exercise routine. I imagine her falling asleep in front of the TV at night, her long hair falling across the pillow, a blanket partially covering her legs. I envision brushing her hair from her forehead. I fantasize about carrying her to her room, tucking her into bed, and watching her dream.
I lie there and long for my dream girl. My Other Self calms me with the steady murmur of his voice. He never falters, he never skips a beat. I fall asleep with the sound of her name echoing through my ears.
