Jack be Nimble, Jack be Quick, Jack become a Candlestick

By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. It hurt to breathe- I knew I wasn't actually inhaling smoke, but I could smell it. Taste it on the wind. Feel it in my lungs. And it was painful, god, it was.

How do you tell your mind what you see and feel isn't real?

"Artemis, can we go?" Leila stood next to me, hands on the straps of her backpack. I hadn't gone to school in months.

"Please, leave me alone," I whispered, but she just laughed. It was malicious. I knew Leila would never laugh at me like that. But I saw her do it. Did it really matter if she was dead?

Maybe I was dead. I took some comfort in that, at least.

"What do you want, Leila?"

"What are we going to do today, Art? I thought we were going to school. Or did those other girls get to you?"

"You know I'm not... no, they didn't, alright? School's over. You would know that if you were real." The fire caught in her hair, and her eyes went red.

"I am real. Just because only you can see me doesn't mean I'm a figment of your imagination, dammit, Tim!"

"You actually used my name." I laughed. "That's the first time you've done that."

"It's not! You weren't supposed to change after I left!"

"You're still here, aren't you?" I turned away,  tried to tune out her screams as the fire spread, consuming everything but me. I let it happen. I let her die. Again. What did that make me?

"Was she really like that?" I turned, looking at the older boy standing in the space Leila left her ashes. I'd never seen him before.

"No. She wasn't. I'm thinking badly of the dead." He shrugged.

"They're dead, what do they care?"

"What are you, my lazy moral compass?" He laughed, a full throw-your-head-back shabang, like he's in a movie. What sort of hallucination was this?

"You don't need me for that, Timothee. You're plenty morally gray  on your own. Consider me a helping hand. I'm Jack. And I'm not a part of the mental issues you've got. I'm just in your head. Violationally speaking."

"You made that up."

"You understood me, didn't you? Isn't that what matters?" I don't think I could've thought him up. Even fake Leila wasn't that much of a vague prick. But he couldn't have been real. "I take offense. I'm a full person, alright?"

"Riiight." He huffed. I tried to burn him too, but by then something had put the fire out.

"Why are you being so rude? Burn me alive like your friend? You'll hurt my feelings." I pulled at all of the brain strings I could, shook my head, rubbed my eyes. He never even faded. Didn't get blurry at the corners.

"Don't think of me turning into a pink elephant." I recoiled, expecting him to grow tusks, but a pink Jack-elephant appeared at his side. "You can't make real people do the same things as your brain friends."

"And that will prove you're real?" He heard the edge to my voice (of course he did), and sucked on his teeth.

"What more can I do?" I thought of a couple things, quickly dismissed them, and walked away. "Oh, you want me to go that badly? Funny, that."

Jack ran, managing to get up the porch stairs before I could. I rolled my eyes.

And then he rang the doorbell.

He was real.

My mom came out of the house, fully expecting a terrified, shaking Tim, only to see a tall, willowy young man, maybe a year older than me, grinning viciously back at me; an exhausted, stunned Tim.

"Hello, Missus Park. May I come in?"

I gathered three things from our next conversation. Jackie Lux was a full person, like he'd said. My mother adored him absolutely. And, he was irritatingly charming when he wanted to be. The first time I'd had that thought he'd stopped for a second, like he was short circuiting. It was cute, which was a thought I'd immediately locked far, far out of his reach.

I melted down the Jack-elephant and watched the house burn down around us a couple of times while the annoying mind reader charmed my mom. He made a face every time the pictures on the mantle caught fire.

I tried not to think about the fact that most of them had me in them. And that he grimaced seeing my face burst into flames. I put out the fires, watched him relax as I did.

I didn't like being the cause of suffering.

Maybe that's what I'd needed. I hadn't seen it at the time, but I put out the fires. I stopped it with my willpower. It kind of drained me, but again, I was distracted.

I've always been a people pleaser. Jackie hates it, but he puts up with it, for my sake. Said I needed to be able to do things for myself.

"Take care of Tim first, alright? Get some self-preservation instincts. And no, I won't ask you to do it for me, that's contradictory." He's smarter than me, when it comes to my brain. It doesn't matter that I spend more time inside of it. He loves it more than I ever could, willingly, without obligation. Because he loves me. It surprises me every day; when I wake up, and he’s stopped by, brought me breakfast; when he plays the piano for me; whenever we exist in the same space.

It was hard to get better for me. Not just at first. Self-care doesn't come easy after years spent knowing you were crazy.

But I tried. And I did it. I do it. At first it was for him, but I got better. Kinder. To everyone. It’s like it’s natural now. Easy isn’t the right word. Simpler, maybe. 

Fire still flickers in my periphery from time to time. But it doesn't scare me anymore. My reality has become the one I want. And I'll fight to stay inside of it.