<3
I actually don't have 21 full chapters. Now that I'm caught up, I'm making it 1 a day. It is, after all, only a Novella.
And I have time. It's not like I'm actually getting this done in a month. I'm really just trying to catch up in school right now... I'm almost there!
SIXTEEN
Hello, world. I’m Nêm. It sounds like “Name:”, but it’s not. I have a name that is representative of myself. I am me.
You are tiny. You are nothing. You will die.
I will not. Not before you.
What are you talking about? Pray, tell.
Oh, nothing. I can see how this is going to end, all of this. I will wait for you. You and I will be closer than anyone. And we will die, together. How can you not see this? You must be blind to not know these things...
I am not blind, I am all-seeing! All-knowing! And you will die!
You are tiny. You are nothing. Nothing you will do can stop the truth. You are not that powerful, my love.
We will see about that, little duck. Stay alive.
Oh, I will. You shall see, but hopefully not too soon.
Juliet, what the heck is going on?
I honestly have no idea. They fight, but at the same time...
I know. It’s like they are the same person because they are so different.
When - if ever - do you suppose they will band together? I am certain that if they did, they would immediately find a way to break out of us.
I don’t know. Her predictions scare me. What are we going to do?
I think we should wait... absolutely wait and just keep going.
Then you’ll have to wait alone. I’m getting out.
NO! You can’t do that, Sarah Jane! I can’t hold them both back alone!
That’s your problem. You’d better hope that they don’t want out for too much longer, because if they do you’re screwed. Good luck.
PART II
3 YEARS LATER
ONE
I got a B on my Algebra test today. I’m not exactly sure what went wrong, because I thought I did really well, but I wasn’t able to scrape my usual 91-without-studying. My head is starting to deteriorate with all of these voices inside of it. Seriously, they don’t even seem not real sometimes. They don’t just talk to me, they whisper among themselves and I can feel them having conversations behind my back. I swear, I thought if I was crazy I would know it, but it’s not that obvious. Well, except for the fact that I hear voices in my head in the first place. That’s probably not a very good sign on the crazy-front.
Oh, Sarah Jane. You’re not crazy. Why can’t you see that? Why don’t you remember that the voices are real?
Because you never have been. So I don’t remember being alive until I was 1. Okay. I didn’t know I was crazy until I was almost 12. So? Early-onset schizophrenia isn’t uncommon in countries in South Africa, and-
Oh, come on. Everybody knows that’s a scam. Seriously, you have problems.
Yeah, I do. I have flipping VOICES in my HEAD. I hate this. Dang it, why do you all have to seem so real? And for goodness’s sake, my name is JULIET CARTER. Not Sarah Jane, not anything else. JULIET. So get out of my head or just get out of my life! Better to do the latter, because I’m getting sick of this. I write and write in my stupid hallucination notebook, and then as I hear your voices different handwriting appears on the page. People think I’m making this up for attention, but gods, this isn’t fair. I need this to be over. I can’t even remember most of my day anymore, and you won’t leave me alone.
Jesus. YOu just won’t shut up about the fact that we don’t exist. Have you ever known anyone as crazy as you? Crazy enough that you talk back to your voices? No. There's never been a case like yours, Sarah Jane. You know you’re not crazy. People convinced you when you were 11 that you were crazy, which you never believed before. Let yourself be convinced the other way, stupid face,
I’m not stupid! And for once, the little voices in my head are right.
Go on... say it...
I will never shut up about the fact that you don’t exist.
If you really didn’t believe her, then you wouldn’t respond when they argue with you.
Oh, gods. If any of my voices were real...
then let me out. Come on, SJ. Let me out.
TWO
There is one voice that doesn’t seem to care that I know just how screwed up I am. I don’t know why. In fact, I’m not sure I like it: it’s really eerie with two wanting me to free them and one voice silent.
That’s because I’m good natured.
No, I don’t think so. I think it’s a bit more than that. You have a reason that’s bigger than that. You’re not quiet, I don’t think. You have something you don’t want to say - or you can’t. What is it?
If I couldn’t say it, would I tell you?
Oh, come on, SJ. The first time I’ve ever asked someone inside my head to talk and you won’t do it? What kind of treason is that?
Christ, you sound like I used to in the days when I was you. Fine, then. You really want to know? I don’t tell you you aren’t crazy because it’s good that you think you are. Thinking you’re crazy is better protection than you ever helped me form. Maybe the belief that my sisters don’t exist is all you need to contain them.
Don’t forget that you are this crazy. Know what it feels like to be truly terrified, and please, for the love of all things sane, do not let them wear you down to that. If they do... well, all I can say is that all my efforts - and all of yours - will be worth nothing.And you will be destroyed for it. All you are worth and all you ever were will vanish entirely, leaving a little voice in someone’s head.
It was you who made me crazy, wasn’t it?
No, my darling ‘Juliet’. Oh, no. You did that yourself.
Wait, what do you mean?
Oh, come on. Don’t shut up now, not when I’ve just gotten you talking. That’s not fair. Come on!
Damn you, Sarah Jane Loisette.
Damn you.
They’re just words, my love. You cannot damn somebody with them unless you mean them. I know, I know, you do, you do, you do. But you don’t. You know you don’t mean them. It’s like trying to kill someone you love via a spell. You don’t remember loving her. And you never loved me.
But, Jenny, if I never loved you, how could I love you now? Not that I love you. I mean, you’re just a voice in my head.
Oh, SJ. There’s nothing “only” about being a voice in someone’s head. You were once. Most people’s voices in their heads are their consciences. You have the benefit there. Your voices are souls.
THREE
I woke this morning with a gasp. I dreamed of living in someone’s head. I’m so glad my voices aren’t real, they would be in so much pain... I suppose that’s proof that they aren’t real. They don’t break free, and I’ve never heard them screaming. Not for as long as my dream lasted. The dream seemed familiar, and I haven’t remembered my dreams for the past few nights, so I think it may have been recurring... or maybe a sequential dream. With all of these psychiatrists I’ve picked up on a few things.
- I’m really, really crazy
- I am mildly psychic, which I’m sure is just coincidental and subconscious
- I have serial dreams that I never remember after a week and never remember talking about
Living in an asylum is not as great as it sounds. I feel really bad for all of the sane people in here. The ones who threaten suicide to see what will happen, or had drugs pushed on them at a party and got caught, the ones with mild depression and autism... they don’t belong here. They belong in a haven, protected from the false gods of government, not put away in a place that shoves more pills down your throat than the poor normals ever would.
My dream was really, really odd. I actually don’t know what it was about. I’m writing this down so that I’ll read it and maybe remember it later on. I was 6, and I was cupping the cheek of a Spanish boy. He grinned at me, and somehow I recognised the grin. Except, the person cupping the cheek wasn’t me. The hand was my hand and the face in the reflection of his eyes was my face, but I wasn’t moving. I was trapped inside the person’s consciousness, screaming and clawing to get out. Screaming the boy’s name. I don’t remember his name. I think I loved him, why can’t I remember his name? I just did, why can’t I?
I took it away from you.
Give it back! Give me back his name! I need his name!
I can’t. I’m sorry. You want to remember. Inside you are dying to remember, but you’ve blocked it. That’s why you can’t remember anything. You can’t remember your dreams, and you can’t remember his name.
Whose name?
The boy in your dreams.
Dreams? What are you talking about?
Read your journal, my darling.
That wasn’t me. I don’t remember any of that...
Oh, J...
Why won’t you just say Juliet, Sarah Jane?
I can’t...
Fine. I can’t help you.
FOUR
A boy of 16 walks through the doors of the asylum and into the waiting room. He looks sheepishly around the room and shuffles up to the desk.
“Hi, sorry,” he says nervously in a slightly noticable accent from the depths of Spain.
A young woman with bags under her eyes asks him what he needs.
“I was wondering... could I visit an old... friend of mine?”
“Sure, as long as she’s not in isolation right now. What’s her name and yours, son?”
“She’s Juliet Carter. Oh, and I’m Malcolm. Malcolm Regardo.”
“All clear, dear,” the girl says after typing some commands. “But I must warn you, she may not be what you expect. Even her parents don’t visit her. Room 36”
The boy ignores her and enters the series of walkways that bring him to his lost love. He sees her, and grins that old grin. “Hello, Juliet.”
FIVE
A strange boy just walked into my haven and said hello, which is odd. Nobody comes to me except the doctors. I don’t know how he knows my name. I can’t remember him. I don’t know, actually, because he sort of looks familiar. His grin certainly did. Perhaps he’s the boy from the dream I had.
Malcolm walks over to Sarah Jane and gently reaches for her hand.
“What are you doing?” Sarah Jane asks. She then opens her eyes in shock and pulls her hand away, shaking her wrists violently and kicking away from her cross-legged position on the end of her bed. She grabs her blanket and wraps it around herself, still shaking, covering every part of her except her eyes.
Malcolm grins and replies “Oh, haven’t spoken in a while, have we? Well, I suppose you wouldn’t have, seeing as you can’t even remember what you are.”
NO! He can’t do this! Tell him he can’t do this! Please, Sarah Jane! He can’t let us loose! Get him away!
“NO!” The strength of her body’s voice surprises Sarah Jane. She wasn’t, however, the one who screamed.
“Oh, hello, Juliet. Yes, I know. You think I’m doing the wrong thing. I just can’t live without you anymore. Whatever it takes to get you out of there, I will do it. And don’t look at me like that. You know I can see you. Arguing against this isn’t going to do anything. I’m going to give her the rest of whatever story you told her. Because I know when you’re going to die, and you might as well get a chance to live a little before you do.”
A tear finds its way out of Juliet’s tear ducts as Sarah Jane scrambles to grab her notebook and writes excitedly:
Tell me what? Say it. Now, please.
“Impatience isn’t a virtue, Sarah Jane.”
That’s not my name. My NAME is Juliet Layne Carter. And I would appreciate it if you would tell me now, because I’ve supposedly been waiting for two years.
“The girls haven’t told you? Oh, dear, I have a lot of explaining to do.”
Sarah Jane blinked at him.
“Oh, hell. They’ve convinced you your girls are just voices in your head, haven’t they? Juliet sides with you not knowing, of course, and she never was one to let Jax get past... nor Nêm.
Who’s Name? And Jax... Jaquelin?
“Yes, Jax is Jaquelin. And that’s not how you spell it. It’s N-E with a triangle thing-M. That worries me, though, that you don’t know that.” He pulled her chin up to look at him. “You in there?” he inquired. He saw a motion in the corner of his eye and saw written: Yes. Yes, I’m here.
“Then what are you doing? What are you hiding for?” Sarah Jane looked down to the paper to see the words, and wrote.
Her name isn’t Nêm. It’s Jenny. She’s my Jenny.
Oh, Sarah Jane...
For the last freaking time, my name is Juliet. Not Sarah Jane, not J. JULIET.
“Sarah Jane is your name,” commented Malcolm. “You’ve just convinced yourself that it isn’t. Juliet, talk to me, please. I need your voice here.”
You traitor. You flipping traitor. I trusted you, you know.
“Oh, yes, I know. And now,” he said, “I get to bring you back!”
Have I ever mentioned how terrible you are?
“All the time. I know it’s not, but I’m going to take that as permission.” Malcolm led Sarah Jane to the bad and sat down with her. “I’m not here to visit you. I’m here to get you out. But first, my love, I’m going to tell you a story.”
SIX
“When Juliet was born, she was already incredibly intelligent, although that wasn’t evident until later. She had no friends, to be honest, except for one boy. That boy happens to be my arch enemy, George Wicks. Even he wasn’t really her friend, though. He was just in it for the food. Juliet couldn’t speak and didn’t care much, so she let him take advantage of that.
“Because she felt so horrible without social interaction - and because her parents thought she couldn’t speak so didn’t allow her any - she decided she needed to make a person inside her head. That person became a soul. Those thoughts of friendship turned into you.
“You were by no means the best companion, mostly because you held resentment for not being allowed friends other than Juliet. Juliet loved you, but you needed to be in charge of something. So you decided to make Jaquelin.
“Before you began, both of you noticed me. I was one of the smarter children, and although I was disobedient, I was very good at reading your conversations just from your facial expressions. When I started to fall in love with Juliet, she told me her secret to keep me from doing so. But by that point I already knew. I knew that there was a quiet girl who loved loving people and a girl who was violent but loved to sneak kisses.
“Because I had known about you, you gave me something very special. You had found a way to split a talent and give part of it to someone else. You split your ability to see death, and thankfully gave me the larger piece. I say thankfully mostly because of Jaquelin. When you made her, you also gave her the rest of it.
“Since early babyhood, Juliet had sensed a cruel presence inside her head. This was the bad side of her, but you never seemed to notice the real evil. Because you made Jaquelin in anger rather than need, the monster - which had by then become sentient - crawled into your mind and transferred into its own.
“None of us were entirely sure that the monster was all of Jaquelin. In fact, your sister was sure that there was more to her. Although she called herself an experimentalist, she believed that anyone capable of passion and self-loyalty was capable of love.
“I think we knew that more than anyone. Although I loved Juliet, I was your accomplice and your best friend. We would’ve made a much better couple had we actually been romantically interested in each other. The point is, Jaquelin started to make predictions about your deaths. The problem was, I could confirm it. She didn’t get the whole picture, but I knew when you were all going to die - including Nêm, who wasn’t even alive yet. And I told you.
“You were terrified, but you didn’t let it show. You just tried to find a way to stop it. What you came up with was interesting, but I must say it was pretty cruel. You knew that Juliet could bring life but couldn’t bring herself to destroy it, and you took advantage by suddenly and passively suggesting that you make a girl who was the opposite of Jax in order to calm them both down.
“What you didn’t tell Juliet was what you knew would happen next. Since Nêm was the opposite of Jaquelin, they bonded immediately and irrevocably. You and Juliet tried to keep them separated as best you could for a while, then you made the final move - what ended up checkmate.
“You abandoned Juliet. You knew that with two bonded people to keep from getting out, she wouldn’t be strong enough to prevent or even notice you taking over the body. You gave yourself amnesia and when you woke up they were only voices in your head and you thought that you were a young and schizophrenic Juliet Layne Carter.
“You remembered all of these voices for years, and you convinced your poor parents to give you a chance in an asylum. You were diagnosed short-term schizophrenic and you’ve lived here since. But you were my girl, and Juliet was my love, and I’m getting you out.
“What I didn’t tell you at the time was that you were wrong. Nêm knew this, too, though I’m not sure how. She knew of her own accord. We both knew that you could never stop the death, you couldn’t postpone it, and you couldn’t avoid it. You could only let it happen, you do what you did.
“You made it happen.”
The girls screamed aloud. Juliet in anguish, Nêm in terror, and Sarah Jane in pain. Jax was busy searching the back of her mind for a big, threatening button she had found ages ago, alright, that she had made ages ago. Juliet wasn’t the only brilliant one in the body.
Jaquelin found the button, and slammed her fist on it. Sarah Jane collapsed, convulsing on the bed. “I love you,” whispered Malcolm one last time before the nurses came in and dragged him out forever.
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