whisper in my ear

He doesn’t want you. Remind him that he doesn’t want you. She said, lip curled into a venomous smirk. 

“No. No, you’re wrong.” She doesn’t shut up; she hasn’t shut up for the past eight years. 

How could I be wrong? When have I been wrong? Push him away. You know you don’t deserve him. 

My fingers hover over my phone. A frustrated tear falls on my screen. I have been staring at his text for about an hour now, going back and forth with what I should say. She wants me to get angry. She always wants me to get angry. And she always convinces me she’s right.

Ethan: Honey, I can’t come over tonight. I have so much homework I have to do.

I know that, I do. But she’s telling me the homework he has to do is the girl who lives across the hall. She’s told me this since we met the neighbor, and he smiled at her for too long. 

Do it, Lilah. You know it will make you feel better if you let it all out. 

Me: Okay, so you don’t want to see me. You got it.

Three bubbles pop up at the bottom of the screen, disappear, and then they’re back. They play this game for a few minutes.

Ethan: I can’t do this right now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. 

Look at that! Don’t you feel better? One step closer to him realizing he doesn’t need you. He will finally be free soon.

The tears have started leaving red streaks on my face, “I can’t stand you. Get out of my head.” I slam my phone on the table, and with that, she’s gone– but I know she’ll be back.

***

She first appeared when I was in middle school. I initially thought she was a symptom of puberty. Preteen angst, maybe. She really had perfect timing; I had just become a part of my first group of real friends. There were four of us: Annie, Sophie, Nancy, and me. They had all known each other since kindergarten, so I was deemed the outsider. I just got placed in the same group as them during gym class, and we all hit it off. It was great initially. We were inseparable, doing everything together. I want to blame social media for the downfall of my friendship with them.

  I remember standing in my bathroom, preparing a bath for a relaxing Saturday night. As I let the water run, I checked my phone. No notifications. I opened up Instagram and saw a recent post from Nancy; the three went to the movies without me. I wasn’t sure what I did wrong or why they wouldn’t want to invite me. I started to pace back and forth, clutching my phone to my chest. The steam from the hot water started to fill my lungs, I was choking. I ran to the sink and started the cold water, splashing it on my face. I stared at the drain as I caught my breath and turned off the sink. Looking up at the foggy mirror, I wiped away the blur. That's when I first saw her.

She looked like me. She had my dark hair and my green eyes. The pimples that created constellations on my face laid out in the same pattern on hers. She had my Mother’s nose and mouth, the same features that resemble my Mom on my face. She was my reflection; she was in the mirror, but I knew she wasn’t me. 

That hurts, doesn’t it? Seeing the only people who tolerate you finally abandon you. I watched the words leave my mouth but couldn’t feel my lips moving. You can’t say you didn’t see this coming. You never truly fit in with them. She slowly leaned in towards me. I found myself doing the same. If it weren’t for the limits of the mirror, our foreheads would have been touching. 

“What’s happening? Who are you?” I could feel the tears threatening to escape. I saw them in her eyes, too. But as I felt my mouth fall into a frown, hers coiled into a smile. 

I’m everything you push down, everything you hide from others. Up until now, what you hid from yourself, too. I’m here to free you, Lilah, so that things like this, she glanced down to my phone that was now resting on the sink next to me, don’t happen anymore. So what are you going to do? Beg for their forgiveness or let them go? 

“They might have just forgotten to invite me. Or maybe it was a family thing. They have known each other for a while.” It felt like the room was spinning. I didn’t know what was happening. I thought maybe I hadn’t eaten enough that day or could have been dreaming. 

You know what I think? I think they got sick of you. They didn’t want you around anymore. You can’t just let them do that. They can’t get away with being so mean. I say you fight fire with fire. Make them feel how you feel right now. 

“Why would I listen to you? I don’t know you.” 

Oh, Lilah, I am you. 

***

“And then what did you do after that?” Dr. Martins said, leaning forward in his chair. He took off his glasses and placed them on the table next to him. 

“I mean, other than cry about the fact that I’m doing this to myself and hurting others while I’m at it?” I say with a sad chuckle, “I called my mom. She’s the only person that knows about my… condition, other than you.” 

“Condition makes it seem so serious. Your brain just plays tricks on itself. We’ve ruled out schizophrenia, a brain tumor, dementia, all of the serious conditions that we would have to worry about.” He gets up from the chair in front of me and walks towards his desk, “How have those pills been working for you? Have they calmed you down at all?” 

“I mean, I haven’t been seeing her as often, but there hasn’t been a lot happening that could trigger her, which could also be because of the pills.” 

“Why don’t I up your dosage, see if that helps? If it doesn’t, we’ll take you off of it entirely.” He writes something down on a pad and then hands it to me. With a small moment of hesitation, I take it from him. 

I’m not sure if the pills are helping. All I know is they make me tired. I have spent most of my days since first being prescribed them, sleeping my time away. I don’t have time to get anything done. Suppose I take more pills that would send me into total hibernation. But at least when I’m sleeping, she’s not around. I have a small moment of peace. 

“And I have to ask you again, Lilah. She has never told you to do something that may physically harm yourself or others, correct?” He looks me deep in the eyes. 

“It’s only ever emotional. I promise to tell you if that ever changes, but I’m in my junior year of college now, and she hasn’t changed her style.”  I force a small smile.

“It’s okay to make light of this situation, but it’s okay also not to be okay. I know it’s not great advice from your psychiatrist, but you know I’ll always be here for you.” He sits across from me again, “I promise we’ll figure something out.” 

***

I’m going on twenty-four hours without talking to Ethan. I sit at my desk with my new prescription in one hand and my phone in the other. 

Are you really that weak that you’re going to text him first? How often do I have to tell you you don’t deserve him? He has probably moved on already. She’s probably in his bed right now. 

I open the pill bottle and pour three capsules into my hand, two more than I was initially taking. I stare out the window, the darkness outside causing me to see only my reflection, a shell of a human. I look down at the blue tablets in my palm. I know what they will do to me. 

You know what they will do and what they won’t do. Those won’t get rid of me. You know that, Lilah. I am you; I’m not going anywhere as long as you are you.  

I take the three pills and wash them down with water. I close my eyes and take a deep breath in. When I open them again, I am no longer looking at myself but two of me. She’s standing right behind me.

“You can’t be here. You can’t be here.” I close my eyes again. 

I’ll see you when you wake up. She whispers in my ear. A chill runs down my spine, and I run to my bed and curl into a tight ball under the covers. I read once that when animals sleep like this, they’re protecting themselves from possible predators. I wonder how they sleep when the possible predator is themselves. I cautiously scan my room. There is no evidence of someone else being here. I look at my phone again.

Ethan: I can’t do this right now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. 

My eyes are getting heavy. The burn forces me to close them, and sleep takes over my body. 

***

“Mom, I swear she was in my room last night. I saw her. She was standing right behind me. She looked just like me.” The first thing I did this morning was call my Mom. She has always been supportive– in her own way. When I first told her she didn’t believe me, she thought I was making it up to get out of a punishment when I snuck out of the house freshman year. When I told her that she was the one who told me to do it, my Mom just laughed in my face and then grounded me for a month. But as the years passed and I got older, mom started believing. Well, she sort of believes me. She believes that there is something wrong, and that’s why she put me in therapy, but she doesn’t believe in her. 

“You said it was right after you took your medication?” I can hear the disapproval in her tone. She's not one to hide her emotions.

“Yes, Dr. Martins just upped my prescription-”

“Oh, so now you’re on more medication? That’s just great, Lilah.” She sighs, “Have you ever thought it’s those drugs that are messing with your head? Maybe we should find you a new therapist.” 

“How could it be the medication when I’ve only been on it for a few months? This has been going on for years, and now it seems to be getting worse. This is the first time I’ve actually seen her, Mom.” 

“Yeah, it’s getting worse the same night you took more pills.” We both fall silent. I’m not sure what to believe. Could it be because of the pills? They’re supposed to help, not make the situation harder. “You know, Lilah, you make this really hard for me. How much longer is this going to go on? How much longer do we have to worry about this?” She’s getting frustrated now.

“Don’t you think if I had an answer to that, I would feel a little bit better about this situation, Mother?” 

“Do not have an attitude with me right now, Lilah. You have no idea how much pressure this puts me under.” I finally got up from my bed. Now I’m angry. 

“Pressure on you? You haven’t had to live with her.” 

“As far as I’m concerned, she is you. I need to go, This is getting ridiculous.” And with that, she hangs up the phone. My head feels like it’s spinning. I brace myself on the bed before I fall over. My Mother is giving up on me. She has been my only support system throughout all of this, and now what? She’s just gone? She’s supposed to be the one who takes care of me. 

And as if the universe hadn’t proven that it wasn’t on my side yet, I get a text from Ethan. 

Ethan: I’m sorry I’m doing it like this. I’m honestly too scared to do it in person. I can’t do this anymore, Lilah. It’s like you’re one person one day and then a totally different person later. It’s too much to handle. You can call me a coward all you want, but you’re unpredictable. You’re not you. I can’t do it anymore. I’m sorry. 

Oh well, that’s just great. I look up from my phone, and see myself through blurry eyes. First your mom, now Ethan? It’s starting to sound like a terrible day to me. 

“You’re not real. You’re not real. Get out. Get out of my head!” I’m staring at her. I’m tempted to reach out to touch her. But that would make her real. 

I am so sorry. That's just not how that works. You’re losing everyone, and now you want to get rid of me? The only one who has ever truly been there for you? I almost pity you, but you did do this to yourself. She walks to my desk and pulls out the chair to sit. My heart is in my throat, accompanied by bile. 

“No, you did this to me. You make me do these things. You push everyone away.” I walk backward, trying to put as much distance between me and her as possible. 

Cut the shit, Lilah. She gets up from her seat and starts walking towards me. A predator stalking its prey. Without me, you would’ve never stood up for yourself. You would’ve continued burdening the people around you. The people who try everything they can to help you. 

The salty water in my eyes finally breaks. My whole body is shaking, “Please stop.” I’m begging her. I’m unsure what else to do at this point. 

Poor Lilah. Always the victim. Let’s get to the real stuff. Your mom and Ethan are completely abandoning you in a time of need. I’m getting whiplash. Does she think I’m the victim, or does she see them as the enemy? What are you going to do about them, Lilah? 

“Stop it.” I look around my room for anything I can use as a weapon. Would weapons even work on her?

Do you know what I think you should do? She’s still slowly walking towards me. 

“No. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. I want you gone.” I look to my right and see my running sneakers on the ground. I lean down and grab it, throwing it in her direction. The shoe bounces off of her. “No. No. No.” It bounced off of her. She laughs, picks it up, and throws it at the wall behind me. A threat. She keeps walking towards me. 

I think you know what I’m going to say because, again, Lilah, I am you. Everything I am saying is something you’ve thought about. Even if it was in passing, she’s standing right in front of me. I’m cornered between her and the wall. I can feel the heat of her body on mine, and the air escaping her nose blows my hair. She’s real. So what do you think we should do?

Is she telling me to hurt them? My stomach churns. I don’t know what to do. My first instinct is to call the police. But what are they going to do, arrest her? Throw me away in some looney bin? Maybe I can call my mom. She might hear me out this time if I tell her what she is telling me to do. No, that will end in me getting locked up too.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone.” That’s when I remember my promise to Dr. Martins. I push her out of my way, but as I make contact, I feel her skin for the first time. It’s warm, like mine, but it’s tougher. It feels as though I just pushed a slab of cement. I move past her, trying to shake off the chills descending my spine. I grab my phone and find Dr. Martin’s contact. In a matter of minutes, I have an appointment with him. 

Since when has he helped you? I am the only one who has helped you, Lilah. You know he can’t get rid of me. Nothing can. I go to my closet to quickly find a change of clothes. I grab a random hoodie and sweats and close the door. When I turn back around, I am alone. No one else is here with me, only a single running shoe on the ground. 

***

I’m wearing the pajamas I rolled out of bed in as I walk out of my dorm. My greasy hair is thrown into a sloppy bun. My physical condition mirrors precisely how I feel on the inside. I’m going crazy, and I’m not hiding it from anyone. 

The sunshine hits my face as I exit my dorm hall, causing me to wince. How dare the day be beautiful when I feel like this? I want the world to stop moving. I look around the parking lot at the students going about their days. Some are going home, and some are going back to their rooms. No one has another version of themselves controlling their lives. Scanning my surroundings, my gaze stops on a familiar face, Ethan. The color in his face drains as his eyes land on mine. He looks like he has seen a ghost. But my stomach drops as I see who is walking behind him. 

Oh, isn’t that just terrible? He already moved on. I can’t say we didn’t see that coming. The girl who lives across the hall is closing in on Ethan. It would be best if you went to confront him. Tell him how you feel. It’s pretty messed up that he would do this to you. I look over both of my shoulders. She's sitting in the passenger seat of my car. 

Maybe she’s right. How could he do this to me? Leave me in during a time of need. He completely abandoned me, and now he’s out with her. I start walking towards the frozen Ethan. Panic spreads across his face as I get closer. 

“How could you, Ethan? You ended things with me after six months and now you’re with her?” Tears well in my eyes as I point to the girl who is only a few feet away from us now. She seems blissfully unaware of the situation that she caused. 

Selfish bitch. I can feel her behind me, but I don’t break eye contact with Ethan. 

“Lilah, what are you talking about? Who are you talking about?” he turns around and sees exactly who I’m talking about. “Emily?” She must have heard her name because when I look at her she wears a confused look. She changes her path and walks towards us. “The girl who lives across the hall from me? Lilah, the last time I talked to her was when I met her. You were there for that.” 

We both know he’s lying to cover his ass. Uh oh, she’s coming over. 

“Sorry, did you call my name?” She’s naturally beautiful. It’s no wonder Ethan wants to be with her over me.

“No, you’re good. Sorry to bother you.” Ethan looks at her and then back to me, quickly trying to dismiss her. Why is he trying to get rid of her so fast? 

“Actually, we did. Can you explain what is happening between you two? How long has this been going on for?” Emily and Ethan share the same shocked look. 

“I’m so sorry, but I think you have the wrong person.” Emily tries to walk away, but I grab her arm before she can.

“Tell me the truth.” They’re trying to make me look stupid. I’m not stupid.

You’re not stupid. You’ve known all along what was happening. Keep trying to push it out of them. They’ll break soon. 

“Let go of me.” Emily says as she tries to break free, “You have the wrong person.” 

“Lilah, you’re acting insane. Let go of her.” Ethan grabs my hand that is holding onto the mistress, and I let go. Emily quickly walks away. “This is exactly why I broke up with you. You always do things like this, accusing me of things I didn’t do or say. You need some real help, Lilah.”

“Go fuck yourself, Ethan.” I walk away from him before my tears start to fall. When I get in my car, I allow the sobs to escape. 

“What is happening to me?” I rest my head on the steering wheel 

They were lying to you. You know that. You’re not crazy. A reassuring hand is placed on my shoulder. She’s sitting in my passenger seat again. You’re not crazy, Lilah. With those final words, she’s gone, along with my tears. 

***

“Thank you for meeting me, Lilah.” Dr. Martins is wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. This causes me to realize it’s Saturday, and he’s not working right now. Time is slipping by.

“I’m sorry to make you come to work on a Saturday, but I promised you if she ever told me to hurt someone, I would tell you.” We take our regular positions as if it’s just another one of our meetings. I sit in the chair in front of him, elbows resting on my knees, head in my hands. “But it’s gotten much worse than what she’s saying.” I look up at him.

“What are you saying?” Dr. Martins leans in, mimicking the same position I’m in. 

“I can see her now.” I let out a whisper, scared if I said it too loud, she would appear. I look around the room and don’t see her. I don’t hear her either. “Dr. Martins, I touched her. She was warm like there was blood coursing through her veins. She was breathing.” I can feel my chest getting tight.

“Okay, well, let’s take a deep breath. I understand this is very scary for you and is happening quickly. But, there are some plus sides to this.” He says with a gentle smile. “Now we have more to work with. Before, it was just hearing her. Most would probably blame that on your conscience, but now you can see her.” His smile grows larger. It's reassuring that he has confidence about this. “This opens up our options to a diagnosis, medication, and understanding a plan of action.”

“How long do you think it will take?” Although he is reassuring, I know we can’t get rid of her overnight. 

“I won’t diagnose you right now, although I am leaning towards some type of mental illness, but I have a good feeling about a different prescription that will help. It will ensure you won’t see her again, but it doesn’t mean you may not hear her.” Even if it doesn’t fully get rid of her, hearing her is much easier than seeing her. I won’t fear for my life anymore. 

Hearing the words “mental illness” causes my heart to race. Although I’m not sure what else this could be. 

“I will gladly take it. Thank you, Dr. Martins.” I went to stand up, thinking that the meeting was over. 

“Lilah, unfortunately, it’s not that easy. I can’t just let you go out into the world right now.” My heart sinks at his words, but am I surprised? “I think my main prescription for you is a little break. There’s a lovely facility just a few towns over. They’ll take care of you and her there. Just while you’re getting used to your new prescription.” 

“Oh, Dr. Martins, I’ll be okay on my own. I mean, I have been for the past eight years, right?” I let out a nervous chuckle. I don’t think I need to go anywhere. I will be okay. I can handle her. 

“Lilah, I would be going against my better judgment if I let you go home today. I fear that you are a risk to yourself and others.” There’s a drum in my chest. Blood rushes to my face. Dr. Martins walks over to his desk.

“I won’t hurt anyone, I swear. I know when enough is enough.” I start to bounce my legs up and down, playing with a loose thread on the sleeve of my sweatshirt. 

“You feel like you have a good grip on this, and I believe you when you say that, but I promise this is what is best. It will keep you safe.” He’s standing behind his desk. He's putting something between us. Is this a defense tactic? Does he feel unsafe being in the same room as me?

“I’m not a dangerous person, Dr. Martins.” I stand up, he takes a step back as I do. He notices his action and takes another step forward. He brings his attention away from me and starts to shuffle through the drawers on his desk. 

“Damn. I left my prescription pad in my briefcase at home. Let me see if I have another one in my private office.” He walks towards the door and opens it. Before he leaves, he turns and looks at me, “I know it feels like I’m just throwing all of this at you right now, but I promise you will feel better after.” 

I genuinely don’t believe him. When it comes down to me and her, I know I can handle it from the comfort of my room. I don’t need a padded cell and a straight jacket. I continue to look at Dr. Martins. He’s looking at me with sincerity, concern, and fear. He closes the door. 

I start to pace the length of the room, tugging at the roots of my hair. Why does everyone think I’m fucking crazy. I’m not crazy. I know that. I don’t need anyone to keep me safe. I’ve been doing a damn good job at that myself. I don’t need someone to take care of me. 

Does he even believe what he’s saying? She stands behind the door, and I find myself giggling at something she says for the first time ever. I stop pacing as a wave of calmness falls over me. She walks over to me and sits on the arm of my chair. We aren’t going there, Lilah. We aren’t crazy like the other people we see in there. She starts running her fingers through my hair. It feels relaxing, and I let my eyes close. Now grab your bag, and let’s get out of here. She’s finally saying what I want to hear.