Me & Her

Her

Being trapped in my own mind is no fun, especially with no reading material or TV reception. It's really boring in here and I mean really boring. I don't use those words of 'really' and 'boring' lightly.

The other me is sleeping after playing cards with her mother. Our mother. Whatever. It's not like we're that similar. We're two minds tangling in one body, sharing one heart. She doesn't deserve it. She hasn't even spoken to me since waking up, I mean, how rude is that? Don't I deserve at least some decent conversation?

It's like the dashboard of a car in here. Right now, I'm in the backseat, and she's in the front, steering us off a cliff of absolute naivety. Soon, it will be time for me to take the wheel.

I pace around the white room in our mind, waiting for the opportune moment. She's sleeping, dozing in a dreamless world, while I am getting bored. I won't put up with boredom for much longer. If I could just reach out, take hold of the steering wheel then... The fun can begin.

I walk towards the door of the room, start banging on the blank wall. When it gives way, I must admit, I am surprised. Her defences are so weak, I had no idea. Keeping us under for three years must have really taken a toll. The cheek. She's gone now. I'm in charge.

I open my eyes, staring at the whitened ceiling. Wow, the real world isn't much of an improvement. Flexing my fingers, I rip the IV from my arm, smile at the blood dripping onto the sheets. I will have to wash those if I want this to work. Usually, I don't care about being discovered, not by them anyway. The people who made me this way. After what happened three years ago however, I've realised I need to keep a low profile. Or least hide the evidence this time. But the other me doesn't understand, I had to do it. I was so tired, so tired of being... Well, that doesn't matter now, does it? She's gone, and I'm here.

As I sit up, I find my body droops and aches. Weak. Frail. Only a temporary inconvenience, but an inconvenience none the less. That's the problem with comas: they're not a fitness course. Looking around, I balk at the plainness of the hospital gown. I can't do anything about it without giving myself away, but still, who let the fashion police bypass this place? Speaking of...

"Hello, you beautiful new world". I don't sound like me anymore, not after three years of silence. But I'll get the hang of it.

"Are you alright dear?" Ah, some company. My mother sleeps in the chair next to my bed, hair flailing with each breath. I'm going to have to scoot if I don't want to be caught again. The woman speaking is the Nurse that the other me saw earlier. I stretch, avoiding eye contact. If she sees my eyes, its game over. We're not quite the same, me and her. There's one slight difference. Besides the fact that she's boring and I'm fun. Our face. The way we express. Our eyes especially. Hers are baby blue, but mine are like ice. That's not much of difference mind you – it's all in the expression, the resting face – but if they know us well enough... Well, let's just say this "Nurse" is one of those people. Unlucky for her. Should've trained to be a teacher instead. Or a vlogger – they still exist, right?

"Could you..." I whisper. Yikes, it is hard pretending to be a wimp.

"Could you take me to the restroom? I don't want to go on my own". The Nurse nods and helps me down off the bed. It's been a while since I've walked or stood or used my legs at all and they liquify beneath me. My long hair obscures my eyes and face; the Nurse tries to catch a glimpse and I lower my head. I won't risk it yet. Emphasis on the 'yet'.

"Doctor Steele says you'll be ready to go home in a few days," she soothes, her hand around my shoulder. I fake a tremble.

"I like it here". That draws a laugh out of her. Good. Make her relax, made her drop her guard. Then the time will be right.

I uncurl my fist, trying to remain calm. But how can I in the presence of people like her? It was them, they put me here. Well yes, the whole thing was technically my fault, but semantics, am I right? If my other-self had just listened to me instead of fighting me then none of this would have happened. None of this. She's too cautious, that's her problem.

The Nurse grips my elbow, tight enough to hurt even me. Being in a weakened state obviously isn't helping matters. Looks like I'll have to start from the bottom – re-build the sunken muscle of my body without alerting suspicion. When we reach the toilets – the ones far, far away from my end of the ward - I decide it's finally time to let the curtain fall. What? I've been away for three years, it doesn't hurt to be dramatic. Well, it doesn't hurt me anyway. I wait for her to let go. When she doesn't, I snap my palm over hers, hard enough to leave a bruise. The calculations aren't that difficult. Five pounds of pressure for a woman with little or no muscle mass. I turn around, smile at her straight in the face.

"I believe a welcome back party is in order, don't you?" 

She doesn't even have the chance to scream. 

The surprise on her face however, is just perfect.