Killing the Double

How to Survive High School:

1. Be open to new people and new experiences
2. Try and connect with your classmates—friendship is an important part of high school
3. Participate in extracurriculars such as sports, clubs, or student government
4. Speak up in class—your ideas are valuable

“Why don’t we start with you giving another recount of what happened?” This was the first sentence Shyla heard from her therapist during their third meeting. She took a deep breath, looking around and noticing the flickering of the fluorescent lights above her, and the distant mumblings coming from outside the door. Once again, Shyla thought back to August 28, the first day of school. There was a new girl in her grade; her name was Scarlett, and her locker was adjacent to Shyla’s. In terms of appearance, the two looked extraordinarily similar; they could easily be mistaken for twins. However, this is where their similarities ended. Within a week, Scarlett had more friends than Shyla had ever had. She was voted student council president, and captain of the field hockey team. By the end of the first grading period, Scarlett had made honor roll. Her teachers described her as charismatic and well-liked; it was clear by her full lunch table that her friends agreed with this assessment. Shyla sat alone most days. Usually, she read a book, but today she had forgotten one. As she looked around, taking note of the chipping paint on the walls and the drizzling rain outside, Shyla noticed Scarlett sitting with her friends. A spotlight, shone down onto Scarlett’s laughing face. A halo gently floated above her head, surrounding the table with heavenly glow. As Scarlett threw her head back with laughter, sparkles seemed to gush from her pores, cascading down like snow onto those sitting closest to her. Though it was difficult to look away from such a mesmerizing scene, Shyla averted her gaze; the apple she was holding had turned a dull, pewter gray.  

“When would you say the situation escalated?” Shyla, lost in thought, returned to the therapist’s office. The air conditioning spluttered to life, bringing a slight chill into the drafty room. Somehow, the excessively white walls seemed to intensify the cold. Shyla shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, wondering when this session would be over (there were no clocks or windows in the room). She thought back to the weekend things worsened. She had seen Scarlett everywhere, from the grocery store, to the street outside her house. First, Scarlett walked into the coffee shop Shyla worked at, surrounded by her friends. Scarlett hadn’t seemed to notice Shyla, her classmate, was taking her order. That night, Shyla walked into the little diner by her house, only to find Scarlett sitting at a large table in the back with who could only be her family. They all had their glasses raised, toasting Scarlett’s recent win in the field hockey state championship; she excelled in her position as captain, leading the team to the playoffs for the first time in a decade. The table’s hearty laughter echoed off the metal walls of the little diner. Shyla watched from the doorway as Scarlett looked rapturously around the table, a grateful smile appearing with ease. A halo dropped from the ceiling, gracing Scarlett once again with its radiant glow. The next day, Shyla was taking the bus to the library. The weather was steadily getting colder, and as she leaned against the window, her breath left an opaque layer of fog over the glass. The light turned red, and the crowded bus came to a sudden stop. Looking around, Shyla noticed a big black SUV stopped next to them. Scarlett was in the driver's seat, and her friends filled up the rest of the car. Music blared from the SUV, shaking the bus next to it. They all seemed to be dressed up and ready to go out. The girl in the passenger seat was applying a liberal amount of lip gloss in the visor mirror. A second later, she grabbed Scarlett’s arm, both girls bent double in laughter over what was presumably an inside joke. Shyla wondered where they were going. A party? A basketball game? Those girls were constantly laughing, always pursuing the next adventure. And Scarlett, she was the boldest and most daring of them all. Shyla looked down and realized the book she was holding had dissolved into a dark, charcoal colored dust. 

“And that following Monday, that’s when it happened?” Once again, Shyla returned to her therapist’s office. She looked up, focusing on the monotonous rotation of ceiling fan as she considered the Monday in question. Scarlett was standing in front of her locker, surrounded by all of her friends. The crowd began to encroach into Shyla’s space (as her locker was right next to Scarlett's). Shyla politely asked if they could move over a bit, but to no avail. A mosquito would have warranted more attention. Desperately, Shyla asked again. She was going to be late to class if they didn’t leave. Suddenly, a bubble appeared, surrounding the crowd. Shyla, who was woefully unincluded, was pushed back against the lockers opposite her own. She was trapped between the cold metal of the gray lockers and the translucent membrane of the bubble. Shyla cried for help, but her pleas went unnoticed. Scarlett was completely oblivious to her twin on the outside. As she tossed her head back in laughter, the little halo once again fell to its usual position. At that moment, Shyla reached the end of her sanity. She let out a scream that bounced off the hollow metal walls. And for the first time in Shyla’s memory, everyone stared at her. She ran towards Scarlett, her arms outstretched as if reaching for a fatal embrace. The bubble had disappeared with a pop, and the crowd of students had miraculously parted. And yet, the second Shyla reached her, Scarlett disappeared, leaving Shyla all alone in the crowd. 

“It’s her—she ruined my life!” cried Shyla, returning once again from her reverie. Her shout reverberated off the cold, sterile walls of the office. Her therapist let out a sigh and put down his notepad. He looked tired and vaguely disappointed.

“Shyla, we’ve been through this. This girl ‘Scarlett’ you’ve invented, she doesn’t exist.”