That which goes unseen

I will just see the events of my life flash before my eyes and leave... The events leading to the here and now… Can’t I just skip that part, I wonder. I don’t feel like reliving every up, I don’t feel like reliving every down. Since I don’t have a lot of time left I guess I’d better skip the uninteresting parts. They might bore someone. Heck, I don’t want to be boring when I go.

It all started when I was young. I didn’t sleep much, but I didn’t feel like that was bad. It was just a part of me. My parents and my psychologist thought it was a problem though, so I played along. I’d take the pills they gave me and do the relaxation exercises. I would just pretend they worked, it did not take long before I could easily play even the psychologist into believing me. Giving me a psychologist might have been a grave mistake, it made me able to fool around with people at a very young age.

This way I was able to make many friends, being able to just make them believe they liked me. In a way, I took a liking to some of them too. A few of them were dangerous as they somewhat saw what I was doing, but in the end I only got better because of that. I wonder if there was someone who really knew me. Not because I was a weird person, or a really complex person; just because the live I lived was not mine.

I don’t really remember when exactly this went wrong. It did, though, and it took me a while to realise that. When it happened I was about to become an adult in the eyes of the government. In a way I was an adult before my tenth birthday, but I guess that’s wrong. It was not me who was an adult, and in that way I was still a kid. I simply didn’t realise. Oh, how I regret that now.

I still had many friends back then. There was even a girl; she knew me perfectly well, except for the little fact that she didn’t know ME. That’s probably the point I couldn’t return anymore. It’s also the point I finally started realising something was off. The girl noticed too, and we broke up because we both felt bad because of it. We still talked afterwards, we were too close to stop.

My sleeping problems got worse. When I did sleep, I had alot of dreams, dreams in which everything at first glance seemed normal. There was just something that was awfully WRONG in those dreams, something that was watching me. Every dream was a little different; every dream I was saved by a different person when the tension rose and something bad was bound to happen. After that I woke up. I had these dreams before, but not every time I slept. They’d just come once in a while and I just thought it was a nightmare. Oh, how wrong I was...

I found myself at home, in my room. I was eating breakfast, my dad was surfing the internet and my sisters were watching something stupid on the television. I suddenly felt uncomfortable. Something, someone, was watching, and it was wrong. Remembering that I have more dreams, I figured it probably was another one. I do have a little bit of conciousness when I’m asleep, so it would be highly possible that I was actually sleeping. I wanted to make sure though. I remembered a commonly known fact about dreaming: you can't read in a dream. The brain can’t make up a story fast enough, so even if you pick up a book and open it it just won’t make sense. Having a book laying next to me, I thought I’d check up on it. Opening it and reading a few lines, I figured… I was awake.

A few weeks passed before it happened again. It was worse. I was in my class, mathematics, the usual boring stuff. Suddenly I was aware of everything around me: the sun shining outside, warming the room to just a bit more than comfortable; the teachers nervousness towards an unpredictable class; the boy next to me having a hard time waking up; the girls behind me laughing at a stupid joke of the boy behind them, probably about the sleeping boy; and… Something else. Something that did not belong there, something that was getting closer.

I was lucky that day, as it passed before I got all paranoid. I still had an image to hold high in class; or more accurate, I still cared for things like that. But it happened often now. It was not something I could get used to, as it grew worse every time it happened. I had no idea what was happening to me. I figured I should talk about it with someone, but as I tried it happened again… it did not want me to talk about it with someone.

So I was on my own. Facing something, something I didn’t understand. I was scared. I slowly dropped things. I didn’t do anything for school anymore. I didn’t go out with friends like I used to. In the end I’d just stay in my room unless I absolutely had to go somewhere, I didn’t even browse the internet for a solution anymore. There was no point in that anyway. I am sure there is no solution on the internet, as I am sure that if there was, the thing in me would just prevent me from finding it.

Yes. I figured that one single thing out. Whatever it was, it was inside me.

I didn’t sleep anymore. My parents were worried, but I refused the psychologist as I’d just be able to fool him anyway. This made them even more worried, but as I was lawfully an adult they couldn’t force me to go. Time passed unnoticed yet so slowly… The presence did not go away anymore, it was everywhere.

Then I started hallucinating. That didn’t worry me. At that point nothing mattered to me anymore, except for finding out what was after me. Hallucinating would be the same as getting closer to what was wrong. I guess somewhere I still had hope. Hope – The feeling that something you want to happen is going to happen. That’s what a dictionary told me. Reading the dictionary was the only thing that could distract me... for a few minutes.

Today the hallucinations took over. I’m pretty sure I haven’t come out of my bed for a few months, though with my time perception it might as well be a few hours. It does not matter anyway. I slept tonight, that was what did mattered. I’d slept for hours without interruption, not even a dream. In hindsight it was a sign it was all coming to an end.

I woke up, finding that someone was on my bed. I knew it would not be one of my parents, nor one of my sisters. I looked up, to look straight in the face of… myself. It was an exact copy of me, looking down on me with pity in his eyes. But there was something different too.

That moment is now. I’m looking myself straight in the eyes, and I know it will end. Finally. I realise I have been waiting for this moment. Not even since everything went really bad, but long before that. Since the first dream, to be exact.

I finally realise it. What was watching me all the time was me. I had locked him away inside of me all the time, living a pretender instead. But that can’t work forever. My self wanted out, wanted to kick the pretender of the throne and live for himself. A sudden fear rushes through me as I realised that was just what was about to happen. I’m going to die. And the real one is taking over.

Then, in my last moment, the last jigsaw falls into place. What was in the eyes of the real me except for pity was relieve. Realising that, I know I’m wrong and giving up the throne is the right thing to do. I just want to say one thing. I gather all my remaining strength and mumble…

“Forgive me.”