I awake to a loud noise, I get up, I converse with my dog as I eat. I brush my hair, I take the subway to my job and I finish sorting some documents with a sandwich in my hand. I watch the clock hands move and I take the subway back, buying some food at the grocery store on the way home. I cook and I eat the food as I converse with my cat. I go to bed, I read and I sleep.

I awake to a loud noise, I get up, I converse with my cat as I eat. I brush my teeth, I take the subway to my job and finish filing some documents with a sandwich in my hand. I see the clock moving on and on, everlasting and I take the subway back, swinging by the grocery store for some food on the way home. I cook and I eat as I converse with my dog. I go to bed, I read and I sleep.

It wasn’t a bad life by any means, it was a lot better than living in a battlefield or in poverty. I ate three times a day and I had a steady job. Furthermore, it felt good to know what I should do and who I should be, it calmed me knowing I had a routine, that it followed a straight trail. Living alone was always how I wanted to live, only thinking about myself and not worrying about taking care of others. Yet, after a while I felt there was something missing; I began considering such a life to be boring, stale. I was always in the same situations, surrounded by the same people, all I really wanted was something new. But before long, before I had time to consider it any further, that feeling itself became just another part of my routine, no different from brushing my teeth before bed, no different from breathing. Time passed and more feelings were absorbed, none of them bothered me for longer than a week, none except one. It was a cold feeling, a feeling perpetually gnawing at me. I began to feel lonely. 

I awake to a loud noise, I get up and turn off the alarm with sluggish movements, its dissonance still buzzing in my ear. I quietly sit at the edge of my bed and recall what happened the day before, there was nothing to write home about. A sigh escapes my lips: “As usual.” I get out of bed, walk out the door and I head downst–

–Right here, in this place precisely, I always get a strange urge to describe my surroundings as if someone was listening, as if I wasn’t the only mind in my body. And really, isn’t that the case. Sometimes I act in a way that seems completely reasonable at the time but in retrospect borders on insanity: How could I do something like that? No, I was just in a confused state, only temporary. But then, in this “delirium,” can one really deny the possibility that one is someone else, someone different simply sharing a body with you. One body and soul, housing two minds. I’ve come to the conclusion that the minds share the same soul because I’ve found that even as “I” reach the deepest depths of unfamiliarity, “I” still have the same principles. But this assertion, this conclusion that we’ve come to really doesn’t answer the question. For why would I need to describe something to someone that shares my eyes, that shares my nose and ears. It might be that the mind only picks up information when it’s “in charge,” or maybe there is yet another m–

–The subway station is full of people, people running around wildly to catch trains. Teenagers impatiently enter the trains without waiting for people to exit, complaints and loud talking seems to be the only source of sound. I take the stairs up and out of the station and instantly  I’m met with a fresh breeze , finally I distance myself from that clamorous place. I look at my watch and start heading forward. I walk for 10 minutes until I find myself before the entrance to the office. I murmur: “The sun rises yet again, and yet again it’s time to earn some money.” I twitch my lips and head in as a force a smile onto my face.

I walk in and am welcomed by a large stack of papers, just waiting to be read, checked and signed. I pick them up, head for my corner and start getting to work. I continue on like this for a couple of hours before I take a lunch break. I take out my ham and cheese sandwich and some mineral water. The sandwich is simply divine. The ham and cheese’s coexistence creates a perfect taste complementing each other in ways I never thought was possible, every bite was exquisite. And yet, this too begins to stale. I take the last bite and head back to work. I finish my work early as usual and ponder what I should do now for the coming hour. I come to a conclusion: It’s time for some daily advice. If you ever are in a situation like me, where you are finished long before the time that is expected, don’t go and tell your boss, that wi- wait, I can just head to her, she doesn’t care. I take the signed papers and head to a closed metal door; I knock. There emerges a deep yet gentle voice from behind that metal door. “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Madam,” I answer with forced enthusiasm, lest I get on her bad side. “Oh I see, Novus, no need to be so polite, just step in.” I put on a self-deprecating smile as I open the door and head in. The room was filled with diplomas and trophies of the Madam’s exploits in various strength based sports. Right in front of me is a wooden table, the table is decorated with vases and withered flowers. Behind that table on a strange, yet comfy, looking chair sits the Mada–

–ind somewhere in my head? But how could there be three minds? In what state does that third mind govern me? Or maybe there ar–

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

–The Madam is allegedly a young woman, with short, elegant hair. Her face is blushed and I’ve realized as of late that her skin seems to be getting darker. She might be going on vacation and bathing in the sunlight. Oh, I was wondering where she got her skin cancer from, I’d suppose that it came from the UV-rays. Well it really doesn’t matter, cancer is terrible no matter the circumstance, I tell myself. 

“Here you have the documents, signed and finished.” I say as I hand them over to her, my smile not quite reaching my eyes. “I always knew that, I knew that I could trust you to do exemplary work, yes, yes, yes, you might be ready.” She stops for a moment. “Aren’t you always doing such amazing work, aren’t you, aren't you?” “Yes i-” she interrupts me sternly. “No, silly, that was just a rhetorical question, a rhetorical question, don’t interrupt people when they are talking, haven’t you learned that? Back when-” She just continues on and on without stopping. Sometimes I imagine myself just walking out the room and completely ignore any- and ev everything she says but alas, I am not a child. I stand there with a smile until she stops talking, bow slightly and head out. “I’ve never liked that place, though I suppose she never does give me more work to do.” Now it’s time to pretend to work in front of my coworkers. I sit there for a while, thinking about everything and nothing. Then I pack my things and head out the office. And today I have to make sure that I don’t forget to buy food, not that it’s ever happened but there is a first time for everything. I exit the front door and I hear the Madam’s voice ring out,  I can’t comprehend what she is saying but before my brain could even start processing anything, she walks up to me and knocks me out. 

I awake wh–

–e cameras, kinda like the Truman show, maybe I’m just a character. It is thought provoking but I really don’t have time for t–

–en I hear something falling to the ground. I open my eyes and realize I am laying down. I also realize that I’m not alone. I can see two figures arguing. I can see the Madam and another person, a man that probably would go to hell after he meets his well-deserved death. )Though what do I know, I’ve never met Jacques in my life) Their arguing continues in rising volume. 

“So now what, what should we do with this cretin?” Jacques asks as he looks at the Madam. “Oh I don’t know, we don’t really have many options, do we?” The Madam starts to shout. “Not after you made me hurt my dear Novus, oh my poor, poor Novus. No, you got us into this mess so fix it,  you, you idiot.” I watch as the two are about to explode, it seems to me that they really don’t want each other's company. I look around and the gravity of the situation sets in. This isn’t what is supposed to happen, this wasn’t part of the plans, part of the routine. This was something entirely new that didn’t fit into a thursday. This situation is more fitted for a book, not for real life, not for me. I start breathing erratically as I panic. I never feel safe when this happens, there is no rhyme or reason here, I don’t know what’s going to happen next.

I try to move my legs but I don\t feel anything. A stray thought passes through me. I try to move my legs, I try to move my legs, all to no avail. I muster up my courage and look down. Fortunately it seems that no harm had been done to them, they might just be asleep. I breathe out a sigh of relief but my entire being seems to be stuck in time as the Madam turns to me. “Already up? I really I’m sorry you had to wake up because of Jacques tendencies, I really am sorry I really do, but oh well it’s fine now right? Is it not so? Well of course that’s how it is, life is good after all, yeah life is good. Unfortunately we must do something about you, it really wasn’t supposed to be but there is nothing we can do. We can’t just let you go after what we did to you, we can’t right? No, of course we can’t. Y’know, you are an important person to me, very important. I would like to see you smile more y’know, I would side with you over him every single day of the week, well at least except for today, except for thursdays. No, no no I really don’t know what but today is, Thursday is thursday after all.” The Madam almost spit out the last sentence, and though she did seem to speak with to, those last words seemed rather to be pointed to herself, rather than to me. I’ve always been afraid of The Madam, ever since my childhood, she has always seemed alien to me but never to this extent. Before, she seemed scary, now she only appears to act without sanity. I look her in the eyes with the calmest outset I can muster. “I have just one question, well maybe a few more but no, just one question.” She smiles at me warmly.” Well what is it?” I ask “Who are you?”

The Madam looks at me questioningly and Jacques seems to rather enjoy the fact that he is being ignored. “Well it’s me, your loving Madam.” Her face distorts.  “Jacques is here as well, I guess.”  I look at them both. “Well, I know that much but, who are you and what are you going to do to me?”  The Madam nods in understanding. “Oh yes, that was what you meant, well you see, we are here to free you, we are here t-” Jacques cuts in with irritation. “We are here to kill you, no more and no les–

–his, yet, though I am more afraid than I've ever been, though my life probably will end any minute now, I, for the first time in my life, feel alive. Never has a day strayed so far from the normal, never have I been more excited. But even so, even if I somehow get out of here, what then? Will I just go back to my normal life, my life devoid of personality, devoid of life. I guess I would have to switch jobs, since my boss is trying to kill me. But aside from that, what will change? I speak from experience, the answer is nothing. My life is all just a product of excellent choices, excellent grades to excellent universities. All of this, and not once in my life have I felt a sense of fulfillment, never in my life have I felt like I do at this very moment. No, I can’t go back, not after this taste of what could have been.

–s.” He dug out a metal object from his pocket. I instantly understand what’s going to happen, a smile creeps out. A calm, liberating face. “It really doesn’t get better than this.”  I look at Jacques holding the gun and run towards him. He looks stumped for a moment before he fires. I fall quickly and feel as life leaves my body, never will it return, never will it be normal again. I lay there, death is beckoning me away from life, it entices me into nothingness. I lay there with a smile, a smile reaching every crevice of the face.