Real

Work in Progress.

“How long?”
The question was simple, basic enough. Anyone should be able to answer such a question. It doesn’t imply a hidden meaning, or hint at a deeper motive. It’s just a question. Plain and simple. But I have no answer to this question. I sit silent and pray that Dr. Maddox takes the hint. “You don’t know.” He says. It’s not a question, but I shake my head anyway. He sighs loudly. “What can you tell me about this…this…other life?” I remain silent. I thought he knew everything already. I thought that crazy machine they hooked me up to would give him the answers and spare me this conversation.
“I can’t tell you anything about my other life.”
“I understand that it may be embarrassing, or make you uncomfortable-”
“No, Dr. Maddox.” I say, a little sharper than I meant. “I mean I couldn’t tell you anything. I don’t remember anything.”
“Well, that’s very-”
“In fact, before you ran your tests, I had no idea I was living two lives.” This shocks the oh-so-prestigious Dr. Maddox. He hurriedly writes something down in his notebook. Finally he looks back up at me, his hands clasped together like he’s praying, only he’s pointing it at me.
“You have,” He says slowly, like I’ve been anticipating what he’s going to say next for my whole life. And in a way, I guess I have, but I know he doesn’t have the answer. If he did, he’d have told me already. “You have a very rare condition. Very rare. I’ve never seen anything like this.” He says this like it’s news to me. I wonder if he’s joking. How many other people do you hear of with a condition like this? How many other freaks are there like me on record? A girl, living two lives, with no idea that one of them is made up. Like I told Dr. Maddox, I have no idea what my other life is like. I wonder if I’m happier there.
Now that I think about it, I wonder a lot of things. Who am I? What’s my name? Is it the same as it is here? Do I have parents? How old am I? Any brothers or sisters? Pets? What grades to I get? Am I prettier there? Happier? Richer? Smarter? If I knew all about each of these lives, would I pick there, or here? Suddenly I new question comes to me. One that Dr. Maddox might actually be able to help me with.
“When exactly am I there?” I ask. He looks confused.
“Excuse me?”
“When am I there? Like, when does my mind find the time to go into this other world, and how does nobody notice I’m gone?” Dr. Maddox smiles. Finally, something he can answer.
“The answer is simple.” So tell me already, I think. I don’t like Dr. Maddox. “When you sleep.” Now It’s my turn to be confused.
“What?” I ask. His smile and my annoyance grow considerably.
“When you’re asleep, she’s awake. When she’s asleep, you’re awake.” She. A question I hadn’t even thought of is somehow answered. I’m a little disappointed by Dr. Maddox’s answer. Part of me was hoping that while I was wasting away in here, She was out climbing the Empire State building or wrestling a tiger or whatever it is She does for fun. A new question. Does she live on Earth? I can’t ask Dr. Maddox. He already thinks I’m crazy.
“So…” I begin.
“Yes?” He replies. I can practically hear him begging for something simple.
“Will I ever be able to remember this other life? Maybe even be conscious when I’m there?” He’s taken aback. I wonder what that means.
“It’s doubtful.” Damn. “These two words are complete separate. Right now, we can’t give you too many answers.” Hadn’t figured that one out, doctor. “However, further tests should make this more clear.” More tests. Goodie.

“So…it’s like split-personality disorder?” I ask. Dr. Burke won’t look at me. I want to scream, “IT’S NOT CONTAGIOUS!” the only problem is, for all I know, it may be. Dr. Burke sighs.
“No. Well, sort of.” I look at her. She closes her eyes for a second. “Okay. It’s not split-personality disorder-”
“That’s not what I asked.” She gives me a look. I shut up.
“As far as we know, you’re the same person. You’re just living in two different realities.”
“So...how do I know this is the real one?” She rolls her eyes. She thinks I’m kidding. “Really!” I say. She looks almost offended. “In this worlds, I never doubt that this is real. You have a life, you have your own thoughts, so you think this world is real. But what if you don’t? What if I’m making up everything, including you?” Scratch that, she’s definitely offended.
“This…is…real.” She says. I’m not convinced.
“Let’s say…hypothetically….that this isn’t real. And the other me, the real me, somehow gets this fixed. What if-”
“The false you has no control over what happens to your body. If you get a scar in a dream, you don’t have one when you wake up, do you?”
“That’s not what I asked-”
“So what did you ask?” She’s getting mad again. I don’t get this, aren’t shrinks supposed to be nice to the crazies?
“Okay. If I got this fixed, she wouldn’t exist anymore, right? She’d be gone?”
“Yes.”
“So, if she gets this fixed-”
“I already said, She has no control over what happens to you. She’s not real.”
“But…if…She were real, and She got this fixed, then I’d be the one who-”
“That’s completely irrelevant.” I drop it. How is it that adults run the world when they can’t even open their minds every once and a while?
It is a scary thought, though. Maybe that’s why she rejects it. But pushing it out of your mind doesn’t eliminate the possibility. If this is the fake one, then I’m gone. Forever. Trapped in the subconscious mind of a girl I’ve never met.
But then, Dr. Burke would know for sure if this is real or not. It all depends on her consciousness. If she has any form of free will, then this is real, right? But how would you test that? We’re back to square one. I decide to try not worry about it.

When your parents get divorced because your mom had an affair, you’re somewhat inclined to think that you’re going to have a new step dad. Well, that’s not how it worked for me. Instead, a year and a half later, the man who’s responsible for ruining my life is long gone and I have a new step mom. Her name is Janet, and I hate her. I don’t know why. It doesn’t make much sense. It’s not her fault, but I can’t help it. I never see my mom, and somehow that makes it seem like Janet’s the bad guy. And even though I say I know it’s not true, I don’t think I do. I don’t think I ever will. 
“Well, your tests are back.” Dr. Maddox says, snapping me back to reality. Or what I think is reality. I shake the idea away and turn my attention to Dr. Maddox.
“What did the tests say?”
“Well…we’re pretty sure that you’re the same person in each reality. Which would make sense, seeing as it’s all in your own mind.” Way to go, Dr. Maddox. Did you figure that out all on your own? I don’t say this. Instead I go with,
“Anything else?”
“Well…nothing that would be of much interest to you.”
“Interest to me? In the last week I’ve gone from a boring, ordinary kid and turned into a compete head case!” I scream. I couldn’t help it. Dr. Maddox sighs and says something that sounds to me like, “Your googlewhomps are low, but you’ve got a high percentage of feelglhousnes in your jiggetram. It looks promising.” I just nod. I think he realizes I have no clue what he’s talking about, because he says, “Basically, we think there’s a way to cure it.” Now that, I can understand.

 “Tell me about your brother.” Dr. Burke says. I clench.
“What does that have to do with-”
“We think your problem may be masking a deeper psychological issue.”
“We? Who the hell is ‘we’ supposed to be?”
“We’ve been informed that he committed suicide recently, is that right?” I grit my teeth. “Define recently.” She doesn’t answer. I sigh. “6 months ago. Yes. My dear brother Jon. But suicide happens all the time, and as far as I know I’m the only one who-”
“Tell me about it.” I grit my teeth harder.
“He was depressed. A junkie. He bought a gun and put it in his mouth. I really don’t know what else I’m supposed to-”
“And how did you feel about that?” I can take it anymore. I explode.
“How am I SUPPOSED to feel? How is ANYONE supposed to feel about that?” She doesn’t even blink. I’m trying very, very hard not to hit her a this point.
“Okay.” She says simply. “Anything else you want to tell me about?”
“No.” I’m not telling this b***h anything.
“No? Nothing at all?”
“Nope. Not a thing.”
“You’re not even going to tell me about Jeremy?” I freeze. I don’t think I’ve ever hated my mom more. Why would she tell this psycho about him?
“Jeremy…” I try to think of something I can say without giving anything away. This has nothing to do with my problem. I’ll bet she knows it and just wants to creep in on my life. Pervert. “Jeremy is my boyfriend.”
“Uh-huh. Go on.”
“He’s a little older.”
“How much is a little?” Please, like she doesn’t already know.
“He’s 17.”
“17? And you’re 15?”
“That’s what I wrote down on the 8 million forums you gave me.”
“Well. Now that’s not too bad.”
“I know it’s not. But my mom gets all of her thoughts out of a parenting book from the stone age or something, so she’s convinced that Jeremy’s gonna date rape me or something stupid like that.” Okay, so maybe in the stone age it’d be normal for me and Jeremy to be married by now, but that’s not the point.
“So this Jeremy…you feel strongly about him?”
“I love him.” She gives me the standard adult look whenever a teenager drops the L-word.
“Um hum…and how long have you been together?”
“2 years.” She looks shocked. She should be.
“That’s…well. Do you plan on marrying him?”
“Yeah, actually. June 25th, 2015. I’ll be just old enough to drink at our wedding.”
“And are you sexually active?” I choke on nothing.
“NO. And since I know you’re already reporting everything I say back to my mom, you can tell her the same.”
“I’m not telling your mother anything.”
“Sure.”
“I’m only required to tell her if I think you need medication or if you’re showing any extreme warning signs.” I don’t believe her. Still, it’s a nice thought. “But speaking of your parents…” Parent, I want to correct her, but I have the sneaking suspicion that that’s where she’s going with this, anyway. “Do you think your relationship with your father has anything to do with your relationship with Jeremy?”
“Absolutely not.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I have no relationship with my father.” There’s an awkward silence. I decide to break it. “He’s non existent, as far as I care.”
“Really? You don’t care at all?”
“Nope.”
“Not even if I told you that I could tell you anything you wanted to know about him?” She’s lying. She has to be.
“Nope.”
“Well then.” She puts the cap back on her pen and stands up. “I think we’re done for now.”

They were so happy when the told me. Freaking giddy. Their overly happy attitudes clued me in to the impending doom, but I hadn’t imagined what they were going to tell me.
They said I was going to have a new baby brother or sister. At the time I hoped sister. By now I know it’s a brother. I’m guessing he was an accident-after all, if you’re planning on having a baby, you tell people before you get pregnant, right? Not that it matters. Dad and Janet are thrilled. I think Janet’s just happy to have a kid that’s actually hers. Whatever.
That was six months ago. Ever since, I’ve had to put up with those two acting like complete maniacs over the stupidest little things. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that I have to act happy about this. And I do, really. I mean, even if my father didn’t lose it every time I didn’t act like I’d rather light my hair on fire than not have this baby, it’s not fair to him. It’s not the baby’s fault. All he’s doing is being born.
Dr. Maddox finally comes into the room. He’s been fighting off the press for the last 20 minutes. They all want the inside scoop on the freak. “Well, hello again.” He says as he sits down.
“Hi.” I wonder what he’s told them. I’ll bet I’m on the cover of every magazine by the end of the week.
“So…what’s new?” I can’t believe he’s actually trying to make small talk.
“Can we just get on with this?” He looks hurt. Good.
“Okay then. Well, I’ve actually got a new theory.”
“Oh, really.”
“Yeah, really.” He’s not happy. Again, good. “Have you ever had dreams that you can’t explain?” Where is he going with this?
“Doesn’t everyone?” He smiles.
“Well, yes, but I’m talking about a very specific dream.”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you ever had a dream about a girl? Someone who’s not you, but so very familiar, but that you can’t quite place?” Realization hits me like a bus. How did I not think of that?
“I…yes, actually…I just…”
“That, sweetheart,” I look up at him. “Is the other you.”
The other me. She’s the other me. That makes so much sense…and yet somehow it just drives me insane. I don’t know anything about Her. She looks like me, but the dream is always so foggy…I think She is me. But at the same time, She’s not. It doesn’t make any sense at all.
“I’ll give you some time to think about that.” He says, and just like that, he’s back to the newscasters.

“If I do this…” I begin, almost too scared to even end the sentence. “If I do this, she’ll be gone forever.” That’s not where I was going. I don’t want to think of the other possibility.
“Yes, she will.” Dr. Burke says. She doesn’t sound the least bit sad about it. And really, why should she be? If this is real, then the other girl isn’t real. Her life, her problems, her whole world isn’t real. So why does it feel like I’m killing her? Because, obviously, if she’s as conscious as I am, then she thinks her life is real. It is real to her. It’s as real as this is to me. So, I am killing her. Aren’t I?
But then there’s the other possibility. The one I don’t even want to touch. The one that says, the other girl is real. What does that mean? It means I’m not real. I don’t really exist, and I never did. My whole world doesn’t. What if the real me is starving living on the streets? What if She’s in jail? What if there’s a perfectly good reason that She’s subconsciously created a whole new world inside her head? And then there’s Jeremy. If She’s real, then I lose him. Actually, if She’s real, then he never existed to being with. Which is much, much worse then losing him.
“You know, you don’t have to do this.” I jump. I’d forgotten where I was.
“What?”
“You don’t have to get treatment. I mean, we can’t let you continue to live two lives, but if we put you into a coma, then the fake you lives on forever.”
“What about the real me?” Dr. Burke doesn’t say anything for a while.
“She dies.”

“I can do what?” I can’t believe Dr. Maddox is even suggesting this.
“If I put you into a coma, then you live in the false world.”
“What? Why the hell would I want to do that?” Dr. Maddox gives me a weird smile.
“Well…if you had any…doubts…”
“Doubts? Doubts like what?” He looks at me. Oh my God. He can’t seriously be thinking that this isn’t the real world? “What? NO! Dr. Maddox, I know this is the real world.”
“Even if you know this is the real world, you don’t wonder if your life is better there?”
“You’re actually saying, as a doctor, that if a fantasy world is better than the real one you live in, then you should move into the fantasy world and never come back?” He doesn’t say anything. I think for a long time. If I go into the coma, there’s no coming back. Same goes for if I take the treatment. I want this world to be real, don’t I? I think so. But I don’t know what my other life is like. Finally, finally, I come to an answer.
“Dr. Maddox?” I say, shaking like a leaf.
“Yes?” I take a deep breath.
“I want to live in the real world, whichever one that is.”
“I want to live in the real world, whichever one that is.”

Reviews

[Elizabeth]

I reeeeeeeeallly like it. A LOT. but could you PLEASE write morrrre??? I WANNA KNOW WHAT HAPPENS!!!

[Julia Hollywood]

Don't really like this at all, to be honest. I might write a decent version later