I am a failed writer I tell myself.
Why? another self asks.
I don't answer the 'other'.
I am two selves. Me and the other.
When I say something, the other questions.
When I am silent, the other provokes, prods, questions.
When I am asleep, the other hides.
When I am awake, the other is restless.
I went for a walk with my other self. That day there were many others. Suddenly there was commotion. Some people said someone was shot. I saw someone running frantically towards me. I was scared to the core. The other, warned me. Keep quiet, don't move. And, don't tell anyone what you saw. The man crossed me and literally jumped into a running car, or was it waiting for him?
The other tapped me on the back and said, don't tell anyone. Otherwise they will kill you.
Why will they kill me?
He remained silent.
I know I said, because killing is the only solution, not birth not death! He agreed.
Suddenly a fear gripped me, inside me, outside me. I felt a pain in my head. I was swirling.
Who will kill me? I gasped.
Me, said The Other.