Two

20. Anxiety

       Very much to my surprise, everything went on normally. As normal as it could under the circumstances, anyway. Nobody left the school during breaks, nobody hinted at him being at school either. Though it didn't feel relieving. Not a moment of it. Because I knew he could just walk here from home and make everything uncomfortable. 

       It could've been anything. A rock thrown at the class window, a sudden barge during a class, stealing away someone, maybe doing a crime during the breaks so that I'd be blamed. The possibilities were virtually endless. He was good at faking whatever differences were between us. Hellbent on making everyone clueless about the case. Myself included.

       It never ceased being frustrating that no one cared too much.Other than those few close to me, nobody actually did. Barely even remembered it. Treated it like some sort of 15-minutes-of-fame, a shitty joke that died really quickly. My focus on any class was paralyzed and teachers didn't hesitate to abuse that. Pointless questions I couldn't answer, public humiliations, all the while wondering how I could cry out for help in this scenario. It all felt so surreal, yet so bound to the worthlessness of an everyday life.

       How do you actually call out for help? What do you do? A wrong step could mean compromising your identity and making yourself seem like the impostor. He had me in the palm of his hand, and one wrong move could hand him everything. The two of us weren't going to live together much longer, anyway, too, right? There's many expenses to cover for an extra person. My parents were sure they didn't have secret twins. The chances of whatever was happening were so low, but no one was as bothered as I was, apparently. They were more like... fascinated. Not realizing the horrors of what he bestowed upon me.

       At some point, one of us was going to be chosen. Chosen to stay. The leftovers were going to be sent away. Maybe to a orphanage. Though I wasn't going to spend time there. My 18th birthday was coming. So there wasn't any saving grace. I would probably be given a pack of food, a backpack and a goodbye. Before everyone went back to enjoying the new, perfected, better Change.

       He was like a sketch. A book character. A much more defined personality, traits and slight inconsistencies. Though nothing major, just enough to make him feel human. To make him feel like me. To give him the power to take everything.

       I know thoughts like this can get boring to witness. I know. I don't even resonate much with what is written here. Despite how much I'm cutting everything in an attempt to throw my emotions in here, it never feels enough. It never feels like me.

       I wonder how he'd write out his thoughts. It doesn't feel like he'd do it in the same way.

       The final class' bell rang. We could go home. Collin and I didn't say anything to each other when we went out the gates. Paula found a different route home, apparently. The sun was still up and going, burning the top of my head. Things were slowly losing any meaning they had when I realized it was home I'm going. His home.

       Though I did have my headset today. I could listen to music while I was making my way there. It always felt easy deciding what to choose when nothing was going on. When going home meant just that. Maybe something pumping, to make me feel like the main character who's going to turn everything back to normal. Or something depressing, to make me fall into self-pitying even more. Or nothing at all, just me and my thoughts. Yeah, thought I'd go with that.

       I reached the front of the house. It wasn't burned to the ground, that was relieving. I took much shorter than I'd have wanted to find my keys. I opened the door and there they were. Rachel and 2.0, openly chatting on the living room couch I slept those past days, quietly smiling and talking about whatever it was. They noticed me.

       - Yo, dude, welcome back.

       - Hey, Marcus! Thanks for taking Change's place at school these days, I've loved spending more time with him. Hope it's not much of a chore for you.

       - Marcus?... he said, almost as if confused.

       - Yeah, remember, we'll call you different names. It's too confusing otherwise. By the way, not to be too straight, Marc, but... do you know when you'll be able to move? Our parents can't really afford an extra person. You must have a place of yours, right?

       - Uh.. what? I... don't know. But, I'm Ch-

       - Stop it with that nonsense. You're not him. You feel like an alien.

       - Rach, you don't need to-

       - Oh yes, I'll talk some sense into him. Listen up. You're not my brother. Whoever you are and wherever you came from, you're leaving. You're making Change really uncomfortable with your made up stories and you're just trying to abuse your similarities. At the end of this week, you're leaving. No questions asked. I won't let you terrorize my brother anymore.

       Hearing those words pointed at me wasn't something I could explain. It's not a feeling I can actually put in words, no matter how much I'd try. It wasn't what you'd expect. I felt sort of a "Sure, let me pack everything and I'm out. Sorry to have disturbed". It felt very nihilistic. I'd give the guy the life he's much better adapted to. I never belonged there anyway, right?

       - Fuck, sorry.

       I don't think I'd ever had such an emotional reaction to anything before. I could feel the waves of tears boiling in me, waiting to erupt through my eyes. With my backpack still on, I turned around and left the place.

       - Hey, where are you ... damn. I wonder what's up with him.

       - I'm worried, Rach. Look at him, he feels so damaged. He's done, just... so much weird shit since getting here. Not only he knows most things about me, but there's too many similarities. The differences can't overshadow them.

       - I know. We've been talking about this for a while already. But I don't think we'll ever just figure it out. And I don't want to talk too much to him, I don't want to be manipulated. He's almost a carbon copy of yourself. Good thing you came up with the whole blinking-3-times thing. I probably wouldn't have been able to differentiate otherwise. Though he's gotten very unstable, so I guess it's easier this way.

       - What, did he do anything?

       - Don't tell anyone, but I think I could hear him screeching last night. Since you started sleeping with me, the noise coming from the living room was very strong. It was either crying, or quiet sobbing or whatever it was. You were next to me, but you were sound asleep.

       - Oh... uh, I don't know. He's been so weird since like the last day. I can't comprehend anything he does sometimes. It's very exhausting. I just want this to end and go back to normal. I hope everyone can come out of this fine.