by Rob Reger
Let her die?
Suck the poison out?
Let her die?
Suck the poison out?
I was crouching there in the bushes, hunkered over her, tapping my chin, trying to decide what to do, when she blinked. Took a breath. Twitched her fingers. And punched me in the mouth—not very hard, what with the semiparalysis and all, but enough to get my lip bloody.
I yelled, and tackled her, and we skidded and slid twenty feet down to the trail, and started pummeling each other—by which I mean I mostly pummeled her, since she was still mostly paralyzed. But it’s not like I pummeled her very hard; I just wanted to punish her a little. And I definitely did NOT mean for her to roll away from me and slide off the trail, and tumble down that slope onto those boulders, and break her leg in several places.
Of course I ran for help, and in a minute I could hear voices—Jock, Biff, Tip, and Winky were finally making their way up the trail toward us. I brought them to her as fast as I could, and if she says any different she is LYING.
So here we are, sitting in the car in the hospital parking lot, waiting for SuperAnnoyingMe to be released. Patti has been crying quite a bit. I wish she would just go wait inside, but she doesn’t want to be alone, and she doesn’t want the hospital staff asking questions about her identical daughters, like why they have the same name. I tried to be nice and comfort her by pointing out that if anything serious ever DID happen to one of us, at least she’d have a spare; but it just didn’t seem to calm her the way I thought it would.
Later
Of course, the most annoying part about SuperAnnoyingMe getting herself semipoisoned and breaking her leg was that she couldn’t help me with our prank!
Anyway, by the time we got home, Patti looked like a chunk of frozen hell on a stick and was in no shape to notice me slipping out of the house. I spent a few quality hours at Town Hall working on the Manifesto, giving it every bit of purest, darkest Strange I had, channeling all my irritations with Patti and all my anger at PatheticMe to make it as potent and raw as possible. And, you know, it might actually be a good thing PatheticMe wasn’t around to see the final product, cuz this little Manifesto of mine is so Strange, it’s even scaring ME.
Once everything was set, locked, and loaded, I ran the projection a few times through just to make sure it would be as mind-warping a spectacle as I had planned. And, no thanks to PatheticMe, it IS going to be the most mind-warping thing ever to hit this town. Seriously, they better order extra straitjackets now while they still have the faculty of speech!
Later
Patti made up a bed on the living room couch for SuperAnnoyingMe. I hadn’t talked to her since the whole leg-breaking, so, once Patti went to bed, I sat down on the coffee table for a little bedtime interrogation. She was heavily medicated. I had to shake her quite a bit to get any answers.
ME: So, what was that scene in the canyon all about? Were you trying to get me separated from Patti, so you could push me off the trail? Or what?
SUPERANNOYINGME: Not at all. I just had to…you know, water the bushes…and I got bitten. That’s all.
ME: Hm. So why punch me in the mouth when I came and found you?
SAM: Well…you were just SITTING there, tapping your fingers on your chin, and obviously STRATEGIZING instead of at least TRYING to suck the poison out!
ME: [Thinking fast.] Come on! I was just ABOUT to suck the poison out when you punched me in the mouth! What, I’m gonna sit there and watch you DIE, as if you weren’t my very own self?
And somehow right when I said it, I knew I’d said the wrong thing. Like she’d caught me in a lie. And then I realized I had no idea how she had survived a black jackal bite. Which should have been fatal within minutes. Or why she’d had the strength to punch me in the mouth. When she should have been completely paralyzed.
Something wasn’t adding up, but I felt like I was on very dangerous ground with her, so I left things as they were and went to bed.
June 15
towns made Stranger, 1; reputation points gained, 0
I woke up very excited to check out the newly strange Silifordville. Patti and AnnoyingMe were still asleep when I got up, so I fixed dinner for myself and hurried out of the house. I snuck around town a bit, which was easier than usual, since there was zero traffic on the roads. And no pedestrians anywhere. Definitely ominous, but not quite what I was hoping for. I got bored after a while and went out to the skate park for some practice. That place was empty too, which suited me fine, at least for a couple of hours, when this kid showed up by himself, looking…I don’t know, sketched out of his mind somehow.
He ran to me and started in:
KID: You seen Froggy?
ME: No.
K: Killer?
ME: No.
K: What about PooDog?
ME: No.
K: Dirtbike?
ME: No.
K: Mushroom?
ME: No.
K: Junebug?
ME: No.
K: Biscuit?
ME: No.
K: [Hyperventilating.] Crap, I gotta find them…
And he skated away. I gave him a minute, then skated covertly after him and spied as he searched the town for his friends. He rang a few doorbells, then ran in and out of the library, then snuck under the fence of the high school, and then finally skated over to Town Hall, where a quick peek in the windows of the main auditorium told me where most of the townspeople have been all evening: frozen in their seats as the Manifesto of Strange plays out in their heads.
***EXCELLENT!***
I’m gonna check this out further, gotta go—
Later
Wonderful, marvelous, hilarious Strangeness is taking place at Town Hall! As soon as the kid saw his friends through the windows, he ran around to the front and into the auditorium. I waited outside for a few minutes, but he never came back out, so I peeked through the windows again and spotted him in a small crowd of people standing near the back of the room.
They all looked the same—just standing straight, looking forward, no expressions, hands at their sides…it was so weird. And the Manifesto was still playing—so every few minutes, some new sucker from outside would go in to see what was wrong and just freeze in their tracks, staring forward, expressionless.
GOOD STUFF!
Later
Someone finally figured out NOT to go into the auditorium, and called the police instead. Several of the dimmer officers have rushed in and been frozen, nevertheless. Ahhahhhahhhahhaah! But now quite a few of them are milling about outside Town Hall, calling for reinforcements and advice. I am hiding in the bushes, enjoying the confusion and waiting to see how it all plays out.
Later
They have (finally) managed to turn off the Manifesto. Of all people, it was our crazy neighbor Venus Fang Fang who accomplished it. I give her credit for figuring it out, since OtherMe and I took precautions to ensure it would play as long as we wanted it to. Now let’s just hope she is not capable of tracing this back to us!
Anyway, now that the hypnotic power of my Manifesto has released their little minds, the townspeople have fled Town Hall decidedly stranger than they were yesterday. I’m seeing a big increase in non sequiturs being screamed at volume eleven, inappropriate (and unwelcome) nudity, the eating of grass and dirt, what-have-you. On the downside, there are lots of police out on the prowl, herding loonies into paddy wagons. (I stayed safely under cover, just in case. You never know what a police officer may consider loony.) News vans everywhere. Cameramen are doing their best to shoot footage of weirdos. I caught a few seconds of the mayor being interviewed on the steps of Town Hall, but that was cut short when she started screaming out the names of random fruits and vegetables.
SUCCESS!
Um…only one drawback, which is that the reaction around town is so incredibly, closed-mindedly negative, I am not going to be able to take credit.
Hmm. I may need to go home and sabotage our TV reception so that Patti and AnnoyingMe
do not see the news.
Hmmm. If AnnoyingMe finds out what is going on in town, I will try to make her think it is all her fault.
Hmmmm. I wonder. If she finds out what I did, is she likely to turn me in?
I may need to preemptively destroy her!
June 16
disturbing medication dreams forgotten, 23; journals compromised, 1
BIG TROUBLE!!!!
I DID NOT WRITE THE LAST TWO DAYS OF JOURNAL ENTRIES!!!!!!
Just woke up from harrowing medication-muddled dreams, decided to write them down if I could, and grabbed my journal off the coffee table. Am so heavily medicated, I could not remember anything I had written since my accident, so I flipped back a few pages to catch up with myself. That’s when I discovered that OtherMe and I apparently switched journals two days ago, and then switched them back again today. No idea how this could have happened, but in my current foggy state, I can easily imagine Mom moving us to a new town without me realizing it.
Am now desperately trying to A) remember what I wrote about in the past two days and whether it was incriminating, and B) decide whether I think OtherMe knows about the switch. If she does, she will know that I know that she plans to destroy me! Must come up with plan for
June 17
signatures on cast, 1; decisions made to flush medication down toilet, 5; doses of medication gladly taken, 5; cat attention units, 0; personal slaves acquired, 1; plans for neutralizing OtherMe before she neutralizes me, 0
Was not able to write much at all yesterday due to awful brain-fuzzing medication. Will flush all pills down the toilet as soon I can work up the personal courage to take the pain.
Maybe later. My leg hurts like…OK, am too fuzzed to come up with juicy simile at the moment, but be assured that it hurts really, REALLY bad. Leave it to me to break a leg in the most complicated way possible. Am looking at bed rest for semiforever and crutches for approximately eternity, or at least the rest of the summer.
In other news, I have noticed cat-tooth imprints on my journal. Am now thinking the cats are probably responsible for getting our journals mixed up. Am glad they just dragged my journal around the house, rather than defiling it. Would not be able to fall asleep facedown in it anymore, that’s for sure.
Later
Am dying of worry, pain, withdrawal from cat affection, and fear for my life. Am in terrible mental haze due to evil medication. Keep falling asleep and dreaming that I am one of the loonies created by the Manifesto. I sure feel like one. Am suffering terrible guilt over having participated in that disaster. It’s not what I wanted to happen!!!!! I thought everyone was going to have a nice, mind-blowing, life-altering experience, then go out and…you know, paint sewer murals, or…make raven-golems…I don’t know…and, instead, it looks like we have just brutalized them with our own Strangeness and semidestroyed their minds in the process.
GAH. Clearly, it was a big mistake to want other people to be Strange. I mean, even if it had worked exactly as I imagined, how lame would THAT be? Everyone fighting for space in the sewer to paint their mural? Or creating preternatural beings out of miscellaneous animal parts? Raven is trouble enough. Imagine all the havoc that HUNDREDS of Ravens would cause. [Shudder.]
It’s not like I have this burning need to be different from other people, but I also don’t have any desire for them to be like me. Wish I had never gone along with this plan in the first place!
Later
OK, WHERE ARE THE CATS? I am in insane withdrawal. I need to pet a cat NOW. I need to stare into Mystery’s infinite eyes and hear Sabbath’s retarded meows of love. I need to feel NeeChee’s whiskers rubbed against my skin. I need Miles’ claws to make bread on my stomach. GIVE ME KITTYCAT TIME!
Am so doped up on pain meds, I can’t even tell if Retarded Meows of Love would be a good band name or not. FOR SUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!
Later
Just woke up in horrible anxiety. I desperately need to come up with an excellent plan for neutralizing OtherMe before she neutralizes me. Am afraid I will talk in my sleep, and betray that I’ve read her journal entries, and she will decide to accelerate her plans to destroy me.
My thoughts are very confused right now, but here are the top things moiling in my mind:
OtherMe and I are DIFFERENT.
She has lied to me, broken promises to Mom, considered letting me die of spider bite, pummeled me, warped our inspiring Manifesto into something that has psychically damaged hundreds of people, and, oh yeah, threatened to preemptively destroy me.
I don’t know why I didn’t really think of this before now, but OBVIOUSLY, one of us must be the original Emily, and the other one must be a copy.
I feel like I’m the original. Though I assume OtherMe probably feels the same. Based on the fact that she is considering getting rid of me.
There must be a way to tell the original from the copy.
Unfortunately, I don’t know what that might be. Neither one of us looks blurry around the edges. Though that IS how I feel right now, thanks to pain meds.
Am very vulnerable right now. Mom signed my cast and I slept right through it. Stupid medication!!! Will try self-hypnosis for the pain instead. Cannot afford to let my guard down at a time like this.
I realize this is whiny, but I need to whine a little about how wrong it is that the cats have abandoned me NOW, of all times. Before OtherMe was on the scene, if I even had so much as a painful hangnail, all four cats would be crawling on me, purring and giving cat sympathy.
Am noticing unusually high whininess factor. Is this a sign that I am the fake one?
Mother of Pearl! Have just realized that my recent lack of cat attention is clearly a result of the duplication. What am I, slow? At least they are avoiding OtherMe as well and not just reacting to me being the fake one.
I had better not be the fake one!!!!!!!!!!!! Am suffering serious identity crisis here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Just had another one of my lame crying fits. Man, I NEVER used to break down like this before the duplication. Maybe this is more evidence that I am the fake one.
If OtherMe EvilMe IS the real one, then I am going to have to revise my general opinion of Emily Strange.
Later
It occurred to me to check those tapeworms I duplicated to see if I can tell the original from the duplicate. Mom has been a very good sport and fetched them from Experiment Corner in my bedroom. But unfortunately they look exactly the same to me.
Have given up on scientific inquiry for the moment, and asked the Magic 8 Ball which of us is the real one. Response was “BETTER NOT TELL YOU NOW.” Probably because I am the fake one.
OK, am putting away the Magic 8 Ball. I really need to return to scientific inquiry and come up with a trustworthy way to tell the real Me from the fake Me!
Later
Mom has just been in to check on me. Conversation went something like this:
MOM: So, are you accepting or refusing your meds this hour?
ME: Accepting! Accepting!
M: Good. The pain’s been making you awfully cranky.
ME: No kidding. Hypnosis, my cheeks! I’ll try it next time I have a hangnail.
M: Hey, did you just crack a joke? That’s progress.
ME: Thanks. I’ve been getting pretty bored with my own whininess. Hey, could you do me a favor and bring me a cat? Any cat?
M: No problem.
ME: Also, I was thinking it would raise my spirits if we organized some kind of fun family-oriented game. Something along the lines of “This Is Your Life” Jeopardy?
M:…Sure…but…
ME: You think the other Emily and I will be perfectly matched, huh? Well, let’s just say I’m investigating that hypothesis.
Mom is game and has agreed to be the moderator. However, she pointed out that each of us really should write half the questions. I guess she’s right. I mean, if I AM the fake one, I need to know!
Later
Mom has just been in to give me Sabbath. He hissed at me and I held
him and petted him until I felt bad for keeping him prisoner, and then he launched himself off my cast, trying madly to get away, and it hurt like a FLUTTERPLACKING PIGBARK.
Things MUST improve tomorrow!
June 18
signatures on cast, 2; cat attention units, 0; FakeCats created, 1; Jeopardy questions written, 97; Jeopardy questions approved by Mom, 66; whininess factor, 11; plans to eliminate EvilMe, 0
Day Four on the couch. Since cats will not come near me, I asked Mom to bring me some of the lovely insane stuffed animals I have creatively stitched up over the years. Raided them for body parts and cobbled together a plushy black stuffed cat. It doesn’t purr or snuggle, but it also doesn’t hiss or flee, so I’m clutching it to my heart for all I’m worth.
Now craft hour is over, and I am currently dying of boredom rather than fear, guilt, and pain. Would like to say it’s an improvement, but it’s not. Tried books and video games, but brain is too fuzzy from medication for those. Tried TV, but EvilMe has sabotaged it. That’s OK, I know it’s too disgustingly stupid even for a brain as fuzzed-out as mine is right now. And watching the news would only drive me into Shame Spiral, Part IV.
When not on the phone to the cable company, complaining that their repairmen have not fixed our reception, Mom is moping around the house. Am not sure, in my zoned-out mental state, whether she knows about the Manifesto and the havoc it has caused. Am not looking forward to the inevitable meltdown over that. Will keep fingers crossed.
