Microscopic hairs reach for the sky avoiding the wave of a cold chill overtaking her arms and falling down her spine.
“I’ve never existed,” he says. “I’m an illusion caused by your reflection.”
Eyes barely holding from tearing apart and the necessity for oxygen forgotten, “What?” she asks. “How is this possible?” She’s in panic mode.
“You wanted someone to understand you. Who can understand you more than me, yourself?” he says and glances at the pen in his hand, then at the pen in hers.
She stares at the pen in his hand following him, and then at the pen in hers, and then back at his empty hand.
“I don’t understand what’s going on!” The confusion is nearly infuriating, but she’s shaking with the icy terror consuming her bones. Before long her body begins to dive into a shock, freezing and sending her into catatonic pause in time. And as she blinks she’s standing where he was, no one at the bed where she was.
Echoes roaring from the walls and the ceiling and the floor say, “It is difficult to understand, but you are me and I understand.”
She blinks, again, and upon opening her eyes she’s sitting on her bed, again. He’s standing before her, again.
“For as long as you want me here I will be, but once you no longer need me it’ll be as if I’ve never existed. There will be no memory of this conversation. We will be one again,” he says…