Me & Her

Her

Home again.

I fidget in my seat as Doc' pulls into the drive, aggravating the cuts on my hands that Emma mistook for self-harm. Who am I kidding? I enjoyed the pain those cuts brought, enjoyed the fire on my skin as it split. It shouldn't come as a surprise. Whatever happened three years ago, I think it broke me. No, not broke me. Made me or re-made me in some brimstone way so now I find violence the only escape from feeling powerless. I must admit, sticking a knife in someone's chest is ecstasy for stress relief. Doc' cuts off the ignition like snapping a neck and I'm reminded once again of everything he isn't. As soon as I infiltrate the Foundation again, as soon as he finds the time, gets the chance, he'll run off to whatever drug lord fashioned him those blue suppressant pills. And I will lose the only person in this world I have ever liked. The only person I've ever loved lives inside my head. Oh wait. Or do I live inside hers?

"Are you going to get out of my car?" Doc' shatters into my train of thoughts, his words caught on the tracks.

"No, let me stay in this beige insult to driving a while longer," I snap and slam the door as I leave. Mum's car isn't in the driveway, so it's just us. By us, I mean my alternate personality Alice, and Doc's little brainchild. Mr. Dark. For now, anyway. Until he thinks of a name or I manage to scrape some time to search for one on Google. Every time I find myself in front of keyboard, my fingers freeze up.

Doc' chases me up the drive, trying to talk but not knowing how to begin. I don't exactly offer the best conversation material, unless people fancy talking about manslaughter. Can't wait to write my autobiography.

"Alyssa, wait," he's saying. Too bad I'm not in the mood for a therapy session. I've had quite enough of being dissected.

"Alyssa, please. Talk to me. Hear me out". I swing around, then pause. We're on the front doorstep, the glass of the windows forcing my distorted frown to stare back at me. The Foundation could be monitoring us right now. Calmly, I let Light open the door, feigning a sickly pallor. Inside our head, Alice snorts.

'What?' I ask.

'What was that? Was that supposed to be me?' I shrug as we enter the darkened foyer. Doc' switches on the main light, coveted by what I've only just noticed to be an ornate silver chandelier.

'Yes. What did you think? I thought I captured your general pathetic-ness really well,' I say. She's definitely glaring at me now.

'You made me look like I had a hunch'.

'You're welcome by the way'. Switching her off, I face Dr. Light, who's in the process of sliding off his coat. It's a large black thing, something I'd always imagined the Grim Reaper would wear. If he had no fashion sense that is, and I'm positive he does. Or she. I've never met Death, at least not that I remember. Light slings his coat over his arm, gestures to the living room. Shaking my head, I grin.

"What's wrong Doc'? There's no one here but us". He sighs.

"The car wreck has been removed; the police have labelled it as an accident. The body of Miss Kirby has been removed too, or Miss Miranda Kellan as I knew her," he tells me. I glare at him. He carries on as if I don't exist.

"I didn't know her that well. She was one of the more junior operators in the Foundation, although she was up for a promotion last time I saw her. We trained together once. I met her daughter". The ground opens up beneath me. My legs start to shake, so I continue glaring at him. Perhaps he's telling me to weaken my resolve, to stop me taking back my life. Maybe he's trying to convince me that being a puppet is better than being the puppeteer. Or maybe he's telling the truth and I'm a killer and a liar and everything that's wrong with this world. Alice is trying to soothe me, but her voice is too far away. Too far. Beneath me, the floorboards are swimming, each speck of dust a tiny fish, streamline like the tears that shouldn't be coming. I blink them back. I'm not going to cry for her. She tried to kill me. But it was just a job to her; it must have been. She had a kid. A daughter.