Show me what I am

Her head throbbed as she heard laughs around her. “Do our homework for us, or else,” Saanvi warned. She fell to the ground as her enemy kicked her stomach and walked away. “You better give it by the lunch break,” Rekha said in a sing-song voice, kicking her left shoulder. She felt the world go blurry as her eyes shut.

“Why are you late, Amaira?” Her Math teacher asked when she entered the classroom.

“S-sorry sir, I had a stomach ache,” she stuttered.

“Lies. All lies. Stand near the board.” Amaira sighed and nodded. This was the fifth time in the week she got scolded for something she didn’t do. She looked at Saanvi and Rekha, who tried to hold their laughter. “What are you doing?” her teacher asked when she wasn’t coming to the spot he asked her to.

“Oh, Amy, I’m really sorry for the trouble I caused you,” Saanvi whispered mockingly when she nears them. She threw her bag on her table- which was in front of Saanvi’s and Rekha’s, unfortunately- in frustration and cringe at the nickname. “Behave, Amaira. Stand outside the class.” Her teacher ordered. At this point, she felt like crying. She could do nothing but listen to the snickers of the people she hated the most.

“Your principal called. He said you were rude to your Chemistry teacher. This is the second time this week, Amaira.” Her mother said when she came back from school. Amaira groaned, plopping on the couch. “You were such a good child, what happened to you? We pay the fees for you to misbehave?”

“Mom, leave me alone, please,” Amaira replied.

“Am-” She let out a loud shout, interrupting her mother. She ran up the stairs and into her room, shutting the door with force. Leaving her mother in shock. She immediately burst into tears.

“Why does everyone treat me like that? Am I really that bad?” She spoke to herself, looking at the full-length mirror in front of her bed.“I guess it’s because I’m fat.” She held her waist. “And ugly,” she added, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She thought she saw the reflection in the mirror blink when she was well aware she wasn’t blinking. But she shrugged the thought and threw herself on the bed, kicking her legs in irritation. She eventually fell asleep.

Rubbing her puffy eyes, she found the time to be 7:30 in the evening. ‘Start doing your math homework.’ She ignored the voice in her head. ‘I said do your math homework.’

‘There’s no use, I’m not going to school ever.’ She fought back to her mind.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, go. Do it.’ Regardless, Amaira took out her phone. Within seconds she put it back down and proceeded to walk to her table. ‘What am I doing? I’m not going to attend school.’ She thought to herself.

‘You were being stubborn. I had to take control,’ the mind said as if it had a voice of its own. She started doing her homework, and to her surprise, she knew every sum. But that couldn’t be possible because she hated maths. And she was awful at it.

“Amaira,” her mother called out, knocking lightly on her door. “Come for dinner, sweetheart. I’m sorry for shouting at you.”

Amaira’s red face soon turned to a soft one as she replied, “Yes mom, coming.” Her mother let out a gasp in shock.

“What the heck is wrong with me?” Amaira asked herself, hitting her head multiple times. ‘Hitting it won’t do anything. You’ll only harm your head.’

“Who are you? Get out! I don’t want to eat!” She shouted to her head. Anyone near her would think she’s a psychopath. She waited for her brain to respond like it did before but to no avail. “Are you alive?” She asked it. No reply. “Huh. Thank god.” She slept on the bed with a sigh.

“Amaira! Come on, the food will get cold!” Her mother said.

“I’m sick of my name being used so much now,” Amaira mumbled and shut her eyes, not caring to respond to her mother. She looked at her legs as they got out of bed and started walking towards the door. “What? Stop, stop walking. Don’t move,” she scolded her legs, hitting them to make them stop. The legs didn’t listen and continued to walk as if they had a mind of their own. They walked until she forced them down. She only fell on the stairs with a loud thud, causing her mother to look up in alarm.

‘Ugh, you’re so stiff-necked.’

“So you’re not dead,” she said out loud.

“Who’s not dead?” Her mother questioned. Amaira shook her head and climbed down like nothing happened when she was burning from embarrassment inside.

‘You’re doing something good for once.’ The voice in her brain observed as she picked the piece of bottle gourd from the plate. Just hearing the voice made her change her decision. She immediately put the piece down, to which the voice spoke, ‘You are such a birdbrain.’

She scoffed and answered, this time making sure she didn’t say it aloud, ‘Look who’s talking about brains.’

‘Shut up, I’m not your brain. I’m just inside it.’

‘Who are you? A ghost who invades people’s brains? Get out of my brain.’ She thought to herself. She felt stupid arguing with her brain, or at least someone in her brain, like the voice claimed.

‘I’m you. Just better. I’m perfect.’

‘I’m you. Just better. I’m perfect.’ She mimicked the voice. She found her hand reaching for the glass of water which soon splashed on her face.

‘What was that for?’ She asked the voice but got no reply.

“You okay, honey?” Her mother looked concerned.

“Yeah, yes I am. I’m fine,” she breathed. She just nodded and went to wash the dishes. Amaira went back to her room.

“It’s time you show yourself, ghost in my brain,” she said once she closed the door to her room. She didn’t get a reply. “Hello? You don’t speak when I ask you to.”

‘Go to the mirror,’ she heard the voice say.

She did as she was told. She knew it wasn’t her reflection in the mirror. She was a lot slimmer, and a lot prettier too. The voice wasn’t lying when it had said it was perfect. The reflection truly was. That explained the blinking of her reflection earlier. “Who are you?” Amaira whispered, touching the mirror with her soft hands. ‘I told you, I’m a better version of you,’ the reflection replied. The mirror didn’t act like one. It was like it had been turned to a window. The reflection was moving around while Amaira simply stood there. Suddenly she felt a sharp throb in her head, the world went white for a second. Then it was back to normal again. ‘I’m back.’ Her brain said.

“Get out! I don’t want a mirror reflection inside my mind.”

‘Aren’t you tired of being the one everyone always scolds? Aren’t you? Don’t you want to be known as the perfect one? Why does it have to be Saanvi or Rekha?’ The voice spoke. Now that she thought about it, Amaira did want a normal life where everyone treated her well. She nodded unconsciously.

‘Good. Then let me take over you. Let me control you and make you the one everyone likes.’

“Okay.” Amaira watched as her legs took her to bed. She instantly fell asleep.

She woke up with a splitting headache. “Amaira, you’re up yet? You have school today, remember?” Her mother shouted from outside the room.

“Mom I don’t want to g- I will wake up, mom,” she said. Her mother was surprised, so was she. Until she remembered she had someone living in her brain.

She got out of bed with a light head, dreading to go to school. But her ego took over. She wanted to become the best.

“Bye mom, I’m leaving!” She said, holding a slice of bread in her mouth.

She walked to school with a clear mind, knowing that her perfect self will correct her.

And it did. She improved in drawing (which she was bad at, just like any other subject), sports and she also argued back to Saanvi and Rekha. Which she never dared to do. Her classmates started to accept her as one of their own, they even included her in the Truth or Dare game they always played. But Saanvi and Rekha hated this new form of hers. Perhaps because they were jealous. They tried to harm her more. (Keyword- tried. Amaira only held them back with the strength she had.)

This continued for two weeks, and everyone seemed to be fond of her.

Amaira sat at her study table- her body in her room, her mind someplace else. ‘You are being stubborn again. One minute I stop controlling you and you’re already somewhere else.’

“You just love the word stubborn, don’t you?” She asked her brain.

‘I love it when I’m the one calling you stubborn. Forget that. I think it’s finally time for you to control yourself. I’ve stayed long enough now and trust me, your nerves stink.’

“You can smell my nerves? That’s disgusting,” she hissed.

‘Not the point. I mean half the point but NOT the point,’ the voice said.

“Well then what’s the point?”

‘I want you to be you. Not me.’

“You do realise we’re technically the same, right?”

‘We aren’t, actually. I’m the better version.’ Amaira groaned at that.

“Yeah, yeah, Miss perfect.” She rolled her eyes.

‘It’s time for me to leave your mind.’ The voice insisted.

“But people are so nice to me. They would hate me if I turn back to normal again. I can’t lose you. It’s like saying Superman lost his ability to fight.”

‘So you used me? I was just a way to get people to like you?’ The voice angered.

“Wasn’t that why you invaded my brain in the first place?”

‘I wanted a friend, Amaira. Believe me, this might sound stupid, but being locked up in a mirror is not fun. You know what, forget it. I’ll be in your mind for how much ever time you want. You’re my “master” after all,’ She enraged. Amaira didn’t speak as guilt took over her.

Amaira knew she didn’t feel like herself. She knew she wasn’t the one gaining the courage to do everything. “Hey,” she whispered to her head when she was in the washroom at school the next day.

“Miss perfect, you there?” She tapped her head. The voice in her head hummed in response.

“As much of an arrogant little witch you are, I’m thankful to you. You made me realise that with just a little courage I could completely change what people, except for those two brats.” At this point, she didn’t care about the looks people shot her as they passed by her talking to herself. “I don’t think I need you anymore. I’m sorry for yesterday, I shouldn’t have used you like that. I’ll be good from now and I’ll make sure you don’t get in my brain again. Feel free to talk to me from the mirrors.”

‘Aww, but it’s hardly been a month. I enjoyed controlling you.’

Amaira chuckled. “I question your mood changes. Come out,” she said.

Her head throbbed once more until she opened her eyes and looked at the mirror in front of her. “Thank you again.”

The mirror self waved at her. “Go,” Amaira said impatiently when the mirror self wouldn’t stop waving.

‘Geez, okay. But seriously, I’m proud of you. Until next time, then!’ The reflection replied and disappeared, leaving Amaira to look at her imperfect self. “I like me,” she declared. “No, I love me.” She walked out of the washroom with pride. No one even noticed the difference in her attitude. She was her perfect self.