Me & Her

Her

"I can't believe Dr. Renee cleared you".

Mum smiles as we watch the ghost of the Kia flitter out of our suburban fishbowl.

Yes, I wonder to myself. Neither can I.

Dr. Light hasn't spoken to me, to us, since the Evaluation. Dr. Renee had appeared jovial at the door when she arrived, or as jovial as one could be with death hanging around their neck. She shook my Mother's hand, shook my hand, with a palm of sweat. The noose of her hair strangled her fear and soon, the Evaluation was over. We were free. Free to go to school.

'Are you happy now?' I ask the other girl inside my head. She seems to smile; her eyes, even though they are mine, are soft and wistful.

'I have never been happy'.

Her words pierce my stomach.

They are all too true.

We don't know what it feels like. To wake up in a field of quilts with nowhere to be and no one to please. No one to lie to. We don't know what it's like to traverse the world in search of new sights, sounds, tastes.

We don't what it's like to be human.

Only the words 'abnormal' and 'disorder' are associated with us. With me.

I lower my head, staring at the front door as Mum eases it shut.

I am the disorder. If not for me, my other self wouldn't be in danger.

My Mother wouldn't be in danger.

Something slips through my tear ducts, but I furiously wipe it away. I don't have time to cry. Crying won't fix anything. It won't protect my Mother. And crying certainly won't kill Dr. Light.

'Please,' she begs, her voice the trickle of a tap inside my head. 'Please, don't kill him'.

I hide my answering snarl.

'You lost the right to make decisions for me a long time ago'. She's never had the strength, the stomach. For anything. Not for the truth, not for reality. Perhaps she should have remained, remained in that dank little room inside our coma.

She would have been better off there, where everything was blank, and nothing could surprise her.

Mum pats my arm and draws me close. She runs her fingers through my hair, but I avoid her gaze. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve the calming touch of her hand or the pride in her eyes.

"It's alright, my big brave girl. You did it. Now, how about you relax in front of the TV?" She gestures to the archway which breaches the living room, her other arm still wrapped around my shoulders. Fighting the urge to crumple into her arms and tell her everything, I shake my head.

"Can I change my clothes first? I'd prefer watching TV in my Pyjamas," I grin. My mouth is false, almost wax-like. I can only pray that the expression holds long enough to make it upstairs.

Yes, I've made mistakes. There's no coming back from what I've done.

But I am human.

I am a person.

I am just a girl.

This shouldn't fall on my shoulders, but it has.

So, I don't mind becoming a monster.

'You've always been one,' the voice inside my snaps, but I can tell her voice is wavering. Choked with tears. I huff to myself.

She doesn't even have the strength to tell me what I already know. What I have known since I tried to run from that Nurse and her blood warmed my hands. Since I killed two men in a van. Since I threatened a woman who was more scared than I was. Since I lied to my Mother and since I decided to kill my psychiatrist.

Speaking of, Dr. Light watches as I begin to make my way up the stairs. Mum, kindly, pats my shoulder as I leave. She turns toward the kitchen, muttering something about the oven hating her.

Smiling, I begin to trudge up the wooden steps.

Behind me, I can hear his voice. It's too loud – a hammer in my mind.

"Why are you upset? You should be happy. You passed your Evaluation". I half-turn and this time, I cannot stop the tears which fall.

"I shouldn't have to be Evaluated. I'm a person. Just like you".

With that, I turn back to the staircase. Somehow, the oaken steps have each become ravines. Wide, gaping. Ready to swallow me whole. Perhaps that would be better. For everyone.

His voice again. Behind me. This time, he only says one word. One name. A name which shatters and re-builds me.

My name.

Our name.

"Alice".