Temet Nosce

Hannah Jenkins slammed her laptop shut and closed her eyes tightly. She couldn’t push through with it again, she didn’t know why. She couldn’t do it. She rubbed her throbbing temples mechanically, feeling the slightly prominent veins beneath her skin thump. It was another migraine.

“God, Hannah, you are such a tease,” said a voice from behind her.

Hannah was not even startled. Instead, she just went on massaging her temples. She decided that it was best to ignore her, hoping that she would go away. It was like that with everyone, wasn’t it? You’re disregarded and you lose interest.

“I mean, why do you keep leading those delicious men on? You’re torturing them,” the voice said, her voice musical and soft as silk, the sheer mock in it inimitable.

Hannah chose to remain silent. Then again, the owner of the sardonic yet sweet voice was not like everyone else. She was unreal. What was she, anyway? An epiphany? A hallucination? A dream? A ghost? Hannah did not know, and she certainly did not want to find out. Because the real, solid truth can affect people in ways that no one can imagine. It’s best to just deal with what we believe in, even if we aren’t sure if it’s true.

And so she resigned herself into thinking that the thing behind her was merely a figment of her imagination. Hannah created her, after all.

But she’s here. Whatever she is, she’s here and I’m here. We’re here in my shabby, bare apartment on the 7th floor of an old building. She has to be real.

One thing was for sure, the thing behind her did not go away so easily.

Then Hannah heard the sharp, distinct sound of high heels pacing around slowly on tiles. It was scary, that sound. It seemed to echo hauntingly around the barren apartment. She breathed in and out, relaxing herself.

Even with her eyes still shut, Hannah could feel it come toward her, building up suspense. Along with the clinking of the heels she could hear the loud beating of her own heart.

“Are you okay, Hannah? You look so pale,” Hayley cooed as she stroked Hannah’s cheek with her polished finger.

Feeling the hair behind her neck raise, Hannah opened her eyes.

Directly in front of her was a window that looked into the deep, dark night. But amidst the black Hannah could still glimpse the faint reflections on the glass.

She saw two things. First, it was her own wide eyed reflection, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Second, it was a reflection of someone who looked like Hannah, but was completely different.

To begin with, Hayley’s hair was a more vibrant, healthy, eye-catching color. It ran all the way down her lower back like a silk veil. Hayley’s eyes were dark green with hints of gray, like the color of pine trees in the winter. Her skin was the blooming, pink-tinted kind of pale. Hayley was beautiful.

In Hannah’s frank opinion, she was the washed out version of Hayley. Hannah’s hair was in a pale, dull shade of red, like mud. It was not long, and it was not short either. It ran down her upper back, lanky and brittle. Sometimes, Hannah wondered if anyone put a broom upside down, right where her hair ended in ungraceful splits, they wouldn’t have noticed the difference. It would have looked as natural as ever.

Hannah’s eyes were wider and her eye color was paler in the shade of mint green, similar to the ice cream. This feature of Hannah’s was, to her, excusable. She considered her eyes to be the most decent part of her. But they did not shine like Hayley’s.

And Hannah’s skin was pasty, almost translucent. That’s what she got for spending her days inside her apartment.

Hannah’s stomach flipped at the thought that she was never going to be as beautiful as Hayley, who, at the moment, was grinning madly and barbarically, the same way a gladiator would when he knew he was winning the battle. Her eyes were wild and glimmering under her perfectly curved lashes. It was the look of triumph.

Hannah just stared, transfixed at the glass. This really must be how I’ll be ike if I turn beautiful.

Suddenly, the phone rang. And this time Hannah was startled.

She looked the phone beside her laptop. Who could be calling her? She certainly didn’t have any friends. Her parents were miles away from her in Hawaii, on vacation. They said they wouldn't be calling for a little while. Who could it be?

It could be someone who's trying to sell her something. Yes, it must be.

Deciding to ignore it, Hannah opened her laptop again. She would go online and try again. Hannah did her best to avoid trailing her eyes over her window, but she failed.

And when she looked, there was only one person in the clear glass.

The phone kept ringing.