The alter-ego

Steady now. Steady. We can’t let this little scandal get out of hand. Get in there, commit the crime, get out. It’s that simple. Or is it? We’ll never know until we try. But hey, what can I say? If you’re too chicken, I’ll kill the girl myself. You know, you never had to come. You asked to come. You asked.

That’s right. Sometimes I talk to myself. Or, my alter ego, as some may call it. The damn thing always contradicts me. It’s impossible to think, sometimes. But this so called crime-its real. It’s one of those things I have to. Kill the person who planted my alter ego in my head. The girl that changed my life when she said those three words that, the first time you hear it, haunt you forever. Maybe, just maybe, it’s best for me to start at the beginning. When I could think straight. When I had the whole world open to me. Yes, it’s probably best.

Thursday afternoons are the worst. You know Friday is coming, but it isn’t here soon enough. Nevertheless, I still love to hang out anytime. So, after school, I gathered up my things and set out for that old water tower next to the park. A tower in which my friends and I have spent many a night pondering the interworkings of each other’s minds. Laughing, chatting, joking around. We’re always cautious of the height we roughhouse at, but it never stops us. This is, perhaps, the perfect place I would commit my crime yet. We’ll see, oh, how we’ll see.
“Charlie! Heads up!” my friend Calvin renounced, pounding on the sidewalk to catch up to me. As he did so, he threw his ever-famous rubber ball whizzing past my head. He gave a hearty chuckle as I jumped, startled.
“Calvin, hey.” I replied half-heartedly, as he rushed past me to catch his useless toy.
“What’s your issue?” he asked irritated, as though I had insulted him with my non-cheery attitude.
“What problem?” I declined.
“What problem,” he mocked mercilessly, “You have been, like, moping around for quite some time now.”
“Your point being?” I asked, scowling.
“Give us the old Charlie back!” and he grabbed my shoulders and shook vigorously, as though the jerky, mess around me may come back.
But it won’t. Not since I started liking the girl.
Moments later, my other friend Jan came rushing towards us, taking lone, rapid strides as though she was desperate for one of my deep, hello kisses. For, she was more than a friend. She was my girlfriend, and a great one indeed.
With one sweeping, smooth move, I put my hand around her waste, tipped her down, and kissed her. After about a minute in that back-wrenching position, I brought her back up and released her. She simply giggled and smiled, showing her white teeth.
“Gag me.” Calvin said, making his way to the water tower, a look of disgust on his face.
At the tower we met with the rest of the gang. Candy, Manny, Davey, Jeff, Lora, and Blythe all sat and chatted animatedly. I climbed up the ladder behind Jan and Calvin.
I guess not much happened that day. But, yet again, I can’t remember. My alter ego has a habit of blocking things for fun. You like playing games with my mind, don’t you? You think it’s funny, don’t you? Well, as long as you don’t block out the stare, I’m fine.
The stare. The long, withering stare Lora expressed whenever I showed any passion towards Jan what so ever. It was, obviously, a stare of jealousy. Jan, her best friend, had a guy. That is what I thought that day of the stare.

Shush.
No you shush.
Why should I?
Because you are about to tell it all wrong.
I am not.
Are too.
Why would you contradict me?
Because I am you.
Good point.
It’s a rather rare time when my alter ego and I share the same opinions.

I suppose I better fast forward a few weeks. To when it starts. Everything. The murders, the depression, the love. Everything.

It’s a Saturday night, date night. Jan and I had just seen a movie, and we were currently walking around the neighborhood, talking, making out, the usual. We stopped and sat at a bus stop bench, making out. We broke apart when we heard a rustle in the bush. We looked around, nothing. Probably a raccoon or some pointless rodent like that. We continued.
A crack of thunder, a flash of lightning, the pouring of rain. Jan and I ran to her home, laughing as we went, trying to dodge the raindrops. When we arrived, I kissed her goodnight.
“Call me?” she asked eagerly.
“Ah, can’t. Calvin is coming over and we’re gonna go try to hit the batting cages and such.” I sighed.
“See you Monday, then?” she asked, sighing.
“You bet.” I replied, using my seductive, sexy voice to cheer her slightly up. She giggled and waved.
I started down the driveway. Even with the absent sound of a door closing, I could tell she was staring after me. Feeling lucky, no doubt, of the boyfriend she had. Me.
A shrill, bloodcurdling scream engulfed the otherwise silent air around me. I recognized the scream-Jan. I briskly spun around to see her limp body crumpled on the ground, a familiar but presently unrecognizable figure hovered over her. I ran up and gasped.

Do you remember who it was?
Of course I do.
I was there, remember? Planted that day.
Of course, of course. I remember.

Hovering over the body of my now dead girlfriend was Lora. She had a faint smile of accomplishment plastered on her face.
“L-L-Lora! Why…What…” I stumbled, but I couldn’t find the words.
Looking down at the body, then back up into my face, she replied “I had to, Charlie. It was the only way. I love you.”
And with that, she dropped the knife she had used to slit the throat of Jan and ran. Ran with all her might, out into the depths of night. All I did was stare after her. I was so helpless, so in shock, that’s all I felt I could do.
I rang the doorbell, my hand shaking, as I broke down into uncontrollable sobs. What was I to tell her parents? I couldn’t very well rat on Lora-not yet, at least. As soon as I found out---
My thoughts were interrupted when the door was flung open. It was show time.
I strode out of the house many hours later. That night I had announced what happened to Jan’s parents, talked to the police, and had done everything that follows any death, murder, etc. It had been a long night.
As I started down the drive, however, a voice started in my head. A voice, my alter ego had been created. That first conversation, the first battle in my mind.

That’s it. Walk away.
You certainly wouldn’t want Lora to get away with murder.
You like her.
You do, admit it.

I don’t. I don’t. I don’t.
This is what played over and over in my head that restless night. Battles with my newly found alter ego. It annoys me, pushes me to the edge of hell. But I live with it. It, actually, helps me sometimes.
Helps me, in the sense that by morning, it had convinced me of the murder. Lora shall die.
Now we’re back. Back to where the story started. I’m about to receive my revenge. Ultimate revenge.

And so I stand here, hanging on the trellis, peering in the nearest window. The bathroom. Oddly enough, I stayed. I figured I might as well commit the murder there. Next time she came in. I knew for a fact she was home alone, her parents had gone out of town and she was an only child. And, she was 18, so the fact she was alone for, what is it now, 2 weeks longer isn’t going to hurt anything.
I grinned evily as she strode into the bathroom. My foot slipped, and as I regained balance I heard water running. She was getting a shower. Perfect, I thought, as I watched her undress and clambor into the bathtub. I silently, sneakily, climbed inside. I made a slight bang and gasped, and she must have heard because she immediately cried “Who’s there? Calvin? Come in here, moron.” And she giggled.
She listened, but there was no reply. Charlie wasn’t Calvin, nothing like Calvin. Finally, she put on a towel and stepped out, a look of horror in response to my evil, sneering grin.
I took action. I raised my hand, slapped her. She squealed. I prepared to strike again, when the door flung open. On the other side was Calvin, shirtless, obviously about ready to sleep with Lora. The little slut is what she is. But that is beside the point.
I ignore him. I tore out a knife and swung. It just missed her by an inch-damn. But, I couldn’t go on. For, at that instant, Calvin rushed up and body slammed me. I stumbled, and fell.
I was falling. Falling out of the window. My neck made a large cracking noise as I made contact with the ground.

I’m dead.
I must be dead.
But, where is my alter ego?
He must be dead too.
If he can die.
Maybe he is residing in someone else.
Who knows.
But I’ll miss him.
He did, after all, have some interesting ideas.