Page 61 of Alik

My relationship with Creeper started out with Damian wanting me to sleep with Creeper for free hits. It progressed from there, even though my heart was still with Damian, but the messages showed just how much the two men saw me as property. I knew I’d been the one to go through his phone and send those messages to myself, but I didn’t heed my own warning and leave. I stayed with him. And it cost him his life.

I can’t do that to Alik. I can’t do that toanyoneever again.

“It can’t happen ever again,” I whisper, my voice shaking. I take Alik’s hand and bite down hard on my quivering lip until I can find it in myself to speak the words that must be said. “You have to kill me.”

He frowns. “What?”

“I murdered my last boyfriend.” My ears grate, hearing the admittance, but I keep going. I have to. “If you don’t kill me first, you’ll be next.”

Alik is quiet for a minute, and I think maybe he’s thinking about it when he runs his hand down a lock of my hair. “You know, I think your alter was smart enough to consider you might say that.”

The sobs beating my chest ease. “Alter?”

Alik nods. “I’m not a psychiatrist, but yeah. I’m gonna go ahead and say you have an alternate personality. You must know about her.”

“Her?” I pick at my nails. “What are you talking about? You mean me when I’m being weird?”

He tilts his head and stares at me for several seconds while my skin crawls. “How do you think you act when you’re ‘weird?’”

How do I act?

I kill people.

What more is there to say?

“Violent,” I settle with after thinking for a minute.

He nods slowly. “Is that all? Do you know anything else about yourself when you’re in that state?”

Anything else?

I think about it…

No. All I’ve ever done is ruin my life and the lives of the people I love. I only know I have a “state” because I can’t remember the things that I’ve done. My dad believes that I have blackouts. My mother isn’t convinced I’m not just making up my memory loss. I’m not sure what my siblings think, buteveryoneagrees with Alik that I’m insane.

“No. I don’t have any memory of what happens when I blackout, but sometimes I leave myself clues or wake up to…” I motion down to the bloodied carpet.

“You’re an entirely different person,” he says, lowering to sit on the floor with me. He must’ve gotten a beer from the fridge that he sets beside himself. “As in, you insist that you aren’t Olive. You walk differently, talk differently, think differently. You’re unhinged, but not in the way that I think you’re imagining. Your other personality is intelligent and in complete control of her behavior. I don’t believe my life is currently in danger, but she’s made it so I can’t kill you. Even if you beg me.”

I move my eyes to the beer bottle while I try to process what he’s telling me.

I’m not manic when I do these things. I’m not even me.

It makes sense, in a way. I shouldn’t be surprised. It always felt like I was warning myself. Nothing has really changed, just… I’m a little crazier than I thought.

“How did she make it so you can’t kill me?”

“She planted evidence in both of our apartments pointing to me as your killer, just in case you went missing. Unsent letters addressed to your mother about me, journal entries detailing our abusive relationship, bloody panties hidden in my apartment, that sort of thing. I’m sure there’s more. She’s … clever. Can you think of any place in your apartment she might have hidden that stuff?”

I consider it for a moment, but my mind wanders to the more obvious solution. I scratch at my arms. “My family knows about my violent streak. If we go to them and tell them all of this, they can have me committed. If anything were to ever happen to me, the evidence that um …she… planted won’t hold up. I promise. I can even make a video to?—”

“No.”

I close my mouth and wait for him to go on, my hands pausing on my arms.

“She isn’t just framing me for your murder. She’s been stalking me for months and has photos of me committing crimes.”

The room starts to shrink, along with my lungs, and when I try to take in a breath, I feel like my airways are as thin as needles.

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