Me & Her

Me

For a heart-wrenching moment, I know I'll never hear her voice again, never feel her presence in my mind.

Never hear her jokes, her laughter, or her wonderful cynicism.

Never feel the warmth between us as we experience life together, switching lenses through which we view the world. Never hear her voice. Never speak to her ever again. Never. Never. Never.

Then she comes back to me.

And suddenly, I'm laughing, crying, half-dead, starved, yet I've never felt so alive. So whole. She's here, she's with me. I'll never let her go, never again. Not for all that exists in this world.

'Did you miss me?' Her voice is cracked, somehow, even though it's inside my head. The tears come, thick and fast and unstoppable. Euphoriant shaking wracks my body.

'Hey, don't cry. I'm here,' she says. But I can't stop.

'All right then. I'll just wait.' Now I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry or imagine myself punching her. All three seem a definite possibility at this point. She's here. I'm not alone anymore. I don't want to be alone, now or ever again. She is finally here. I will never let her go, never let anyone tell me she shouldn't be here. With me.

'We've got to get out of here'. She runs thoughts through our mind, picking out the most fallible option. My wrists scream against the straps on the bed, the wires on our forehead. We can barely move, let alone breathe. We're stuck.

'Always the pessimist,' she chuckles, but the sound is hollow.

'And you're a dreamer. I never realised that before,' I add. She seems to shrug.

'I never realised you were a warrior'. I bit back the laugh that rises, along with the tears. Her voice, her words – they make me wish she could be my sister, my twin. Make me wish we were raised in tandem, strolling to school with matching backpacks, pigtails bouncing in the breeze. Makes me wish we had our own bodies, so she could save me. Carry me far away, into a better world where no one knows or cares what's inside my head.

'You don't need saving,' she whispers. 'I did. You saved me. You have been saving me every minute of every day.' The screech of a gurneys echoes from outside, alongside the clomping of heavy-duty boots. The smacking of clipboards haunts me. All I can do is listen, unable to move, hardly daring to breathe.

Alyssa offers me the image of a smile, of a warm summer day beneath the Eiffel Tower. She sends me the scent of roses in springtime, the fresh kiss of saltwater from the coast. This time, I cannot hold back the tears. I've let her down. Now we're back where we started: trapped. A secret prisoner, for the rest of our miserable lives.

A half-thought shatters me. We'll never find our real mother – Tanya Callett - never see our friends again. Dr. Light. At least we're not alone. At least we're here together. I start to wonder if they'll sedate us or concoct a drug cocktail to keep me under. To keep only Alyssa, awake. It's no secret that they've never wanted me.

'Too bad. They get the whole package'. Now she's making jokes again, trying to soften the sucker punch that is our life. Our reality. I wish reality didn't exist. I wish I could dissipate, like ashes in the wind, never to be seen again.

'Do you know what I wish?' she asks. I don't want to know. Not now. Not when there is no hope of ever leaving this place. Instead, I answer,

'What do you wish?'

'I wish I had some ice-cream'. I choke a laugh; it a sad wheeze of a sound.

'Or gelato. I think that's what they call it in Italy. I wish I spoke Spanish. And Dutch. I wish I could book a flight to Norway right this second'. A lump – several – rise in my throat and I am forced to bite my tongue to stifle the tears.