Chapter XXII: …?

Mark slumped slightly lower in his seat, getting the odd feeling that he had forgotten something. Or someone? He hadn’t forgotten anyone, that much was clear, given that one person in particular had been on his mind for the past three days. 

The sound of a key rattling in a doorknob, followed by the open and shut slamming of a door, signaled that someone else was in the apartment now. It was a shame; Mark much preferred to be alone.

“Hey dude, is something up? You don’t look too great.” That was John, Mark’s roommate. He was tall, worked out enough to keep off the pounds but not enough to qualify as “buff”, and had excellently cared-for black hair and green eyes that were still squinting due to being not quite used to wearing contacts. 

“Yeah… I’m fine.” Mark turned back to the TV on his desk, straightening up. If he went back to the video game, maybe John would ignore him. More dead orcs, yay.

“Uhh, you haven’t showered in three days,” said John. “I don’t even know how much you’ve been eating, and when was the last time you went to class exactly? Not to mention the fact that you’re looking at me like you want to eat my soul.”

Mark swiveled around in his chair, looking at John like he wanted to eat his soul. Mark’s eyes were red, with heavy bags under them.

“Wait… is this about… the thing? Oh fuck, it was this time of year, wasn’t it?”

Mark grunted. “No, it’s completely unrelated to the thing that nearly made me kill myself that happened nine years ago today.”

A pale hand hanging off a gurney. A green gemstone ring. The sharp smell of antiseptic.

John averted his eyes for a moment, then shrugged and looked back. “I’m sorry, dude. She sounds like she was a great person. I wish I could meet her.”

“Well you can’t meet her,” scowled Mark, “because she’s fucking dead.”

“It wasn’t your fault, you know. That guy was going to do what he did regardless, and—“

Mark grimaced. “You aren’t my therapist, and I’ve already had this conversation. So how’s about we stop fucking talking about it?”

Just then, a rumble of thunder rolled over the room, distracting both of the guys. It was raining again, pouring down the glass windows of the sixth-floor apartment while lighting lit the afternoon sky.

“Glad I brought an umbrella, right?” said John.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Don’t want to get water all over the ancient Greek texts,” Mark laughed. It was a bit hollow, as laughs went. He then went back to the game for about half a minute before John interrupted again.

“Look, regardless of what happened, I’m not going to let you self-destruct like this. At least take a shower, try to clear your mind or something?”

Mark sighed. “You aren’t my mom, so why the hell do you care?”

John folded his arms. “Come on dude. I don’t have to be your mother to hate seeing you fall apart like this. Don’t be so freaking childish.”

“Maybe later,” Mark grunted. He didn’t sound too convinced of that.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. “Huh?” said John. He gave Mark a quizzical look, then reluctantly went to answer it. 

“Hi, is Mark here?” came a squeaky voice from the doorway. It was Mark’s girlfriend, Madison. 

He didn’t show it, but I knew that Mark was completely freaking out. Wait a minute, I? Who am I?

“Uhh, yeah, he’s right here,” said John, still sounding confused.

I leaned over to get a look at Madison, not sure what I was doing or how. She was a tall woman, tall and skinny though not as tall as the woman standing next to me, with black hair that she liked to keep up in a bun and thin rimmed glasses that made her look utterly adorable. She was also dressed up, with a dark green skirt and her best makeup on.

“Hey honey, are you ready for our date?” Madison said, apprehensively.

“I…” Mark paused. Why did Mark look so familiar? “I forgot about our date. I’m sorry.”

“Goddamnit, Mark!” Madison cradled her face in her hands. “This is the second time we’ve had to postpone this date! The second time!”

John stepped in, lowering his voice in the hopes that Mark wouldn’t hear him. “He’s not having a good time right now. It’s the anniversary of when his sister—“

“I can hear you, you know,” said Mark in a disappointed deadpan. 

John and Madison gave one another a glance. “I’m sorry, honey. I completely understand. I’m here if you aren’t feeling up to things.”

Mark grimaced like she had just insulted his mother. “Just leave me alone, alright. I’m sorry for being such a fuckup. Maybe next week?”

Another clap of thunder. I turned around, looking at the heavy rain hammering at the window. There hadn’t been a storm like that in over a year. 

“Honey, please,” said Madison, approaching Mark. “I just want to help you feel better. Don’t push me away like this, please.”

“I’m not trying to push you away, Maddie. I just… I just need to be alone. You don’t need to push yourself on me for my sake.”

Madison put her hand on Mark’s shoulder, gently stroking her hand down his chest. “C’mon Mark baby. I just want to spend some time with you. Maybe we could watch a—“

“Don’t touch me!” Mark shouted, shoving her back. A sting passed through his chest, passed through my chest. I stepped back, looking down. It was my chest, soft and curvy and feminine. 

Madison stumbled backwards, nearly falling over until she caught herself on a standing lamp. “What the hell is wrong with you! I was just trying to help.”

I was me. Mark was me. I mean, a month of going by “Emma” will do that to a guy, but it was still a shock that I had forgotten who I was already. I was shorter, and curvier, and still wearing an outfit like something out of the Napoleonic era, but I was also taller, and heavier, and right in front of me. After all, I had the same black hair and the same face and the same me. What the hell was I doing here?

“I’m sorry…” said Mark-that-I-wasn’t, standing up out of his chair and reaching out in a plaintive gesture.

What was going on? Where was I? It didn’t make any sense. I was starting to remember; this had happened to me a little over a year ago. But how did I end up here, in my feminine form, watching it all over again?

John held his face in his hands. “Goddamnit, Mark.”

Madison glared daggers at Mark, huffing. “That’s it,” she said. “You keep standing me up, you barely ever return my calls, and now you attack me when I’m just trying to help? We’re over. Asshole.”

I looked around, searching for an answer, the air having turned to drugged honey. I ignored the woman standing next to me, looking for some sign. My memory started coming back, my memories of the fight with Nemesis and of being hurled into a pit with seemingly no bottom.

“No, wait—“ pleaded Mark-that-I-wasn’t.

Madison wheeled around and left without a word. 

And so ended my third relationship. I could remember it happening, about fifteen months ago, but seeing it now made the hurt just a little bit worse. Maybe, I thought, I was dreaming. But if I was dreaming, why wouldn’t figuring out that I was dreaming make me wake up? A thought flashed through my head. What if I had died, and this was my punishment? Watching my own failures over and over again forever would be quite the afterlife. 

“I’m sorry, Mark.” John shook his head. “I dunno what to tell you… that was kind of a dick move. You need to see a therapist or something.”

Mark-that-I-was collapsed back into his chair. Silence. “I’m already seeing a therapist, asshole. I don’t know why I even bother…”

John tried to say something, but I could see it on his face; it wasn’t worth it. Then he left, heading off to the kitchen. Mark-that-I-was slumped down in his chair and went back to the video game. He was trying not to cry. I was trying not to cry.

The tall woman had been standing next to me the entire time. Then she moved, circling around me with a slow, predatory stride.

“So, are you my personal demon?”

She glared at me through the unmoving steel mask and glass lenses. I couldn’t see her face, but I knew. “I am a figment of your subconscious.”

Something was bugging me. I could see it in the way her pure white dress hugged her nearly-skeletal figure, the way her face was covered by that damn mask. “No, you’re that woman. The one I saw at the Archopolid workshop, with the pet werewolf.”

She nodded. “I am also her.”

“Wait a second,” I said. “You’re wearing the same mask as Nemesis, but you’re super tall. Nemesis isn’t super tall.”

The tall woman nodded.

“And you had that freaky werewolf with you. Nemesis doesn’t. Which means that you have nothing to do with Nemesis, and in the real world there’s still a woman with a freaky werewolf running around.”

“You are probably correct, Emma Marcus Farrier,” said the tall woman. Her voice was familiar as well. 

“Ugh, of course. Why can’t fragments of my subconscious be more precise. Speaking of, what are you doing here? Why did my brain decide that this was the best way to…” I struggled to find the phrase. “… go about things.” I waved noncommittally with one hand.

“I imagine it has something to do with the fall you took. A damaged mind can do all sorts of things.”

I sighed. “Fucking hell, how am I still alive? Unless I’m not alive. Are you sure you aren’t a demon?”

The tall woman crossed her arms. “I’m very certain.”

“Then why let me watch all of this?” I gestured to my past self, deep in the middle of his gaming session. “Why would I have a flashback to one of the shittiest days of my entire life?”

Silence. Total silence.

I looked at Mark-that-I-was. He was slouching in his chair, skin pale and splotchy, hair messy, face unshaved and eyes full of sadness. “Shit, that’s pathetic. What the hell was I doing with my life?”

“Not much from where I’m standing,” said the tall woman. “You’re wasting away, too busy hating yourself to give yourself any care.”

“That’s deep,” I said. “I got better than this, though. I never really made any friends or got involved in hobbies or anything, but I at least started showering.”

“Certainly you’ve made a better life for yourself here. You look much better, if nothing else.”

I looked down, sliding a hand down my hips. At least in this mental realm, I did look pretty good. I was clean, my skin was smooth and soft, I felt… good. “Hold on, is my subconscious hitting on me?”

“I merely observe,” she said with cool dispassion.

“You aren’t wrong, though. I’ve been feeling better in the last month than I have in almost the entire rest of my life. It’s already starting to feel like everything that happened before was nothing but… a dream. But this dream is more real than that dream, even. Is that what you’re trying to tell me? That my old life sucked just as much as I remember it did?”

“I’m not trying to tell you anything.” The tall woman leaned back against the wall of my apartment.

I rubbed at my temples, trying to work through everything going on. “Well, clearly I’m seeing this for a reason, and that’s the only one I can think of. I guess I’ve also been thinking about my sister a lot recently, ever since the duel…”

The tall woman tilted her head slightly. “You think about your sister often in general, I think.”

“I mean, of course I would, she…” My eyes went wide. I had forgotten something important. “Halflance is in serious danger. She’s the one who helped me, who took me in, who’s the reason I have a life here at all—I need to help her.”

The tall woman stared at me with her unmoving mask. No words. 

“I can’t give up, not now. Thank you for the reminder, subconscious.”

The tall woman just stared. I glanced back, suddenly finding myself unable to look away as the mask grew larger and larger in my vision. The background began to fade away into shadow, as the steel and glass shined and glared back at me. I started feeling odd, aches and pains infiltrating into my senses. Just when it felt like the mask was my entire world, I was plunged back into darkness.