As we walked toward our house, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows on the pavement. A group of kids ran past us, their laughter echoing down the street, adding a brief burst of liveliness. After they disappeared into the distance, the only sound was the noise of our bags swinging. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence; rather, it was a peaceful, reflective one.
I could hear Diana's footsteps behind me, a steady rhythm that matched the swinging of her bag. Suddenly, her footsteps quickened, and she moved up to walk beside me.
"Hey," she said softly, breaking the silence.
A flutter of nervousness stirred in my stomach, making my heart skip a beat. I glanced over at her, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Hey, what's up?"
She hesitated, her voice uncertain and thoughtful. "I've been thinking about something..." Her voice trailed off, as if she was unsure how to continue. After a brief pause, she found her words again. "Why do you trust me so much? I mean, I claim to be you, but in a girl's form. You can't be sure, yet you've accepted me into your life and helped me so much."
I kept walking, letting her words sink in. The familiar swing of my bag felt oddly grounding. I glanced at her, seeing the worry in her eyes.
Diana was about to continue, her face earnest and slightly troubled, but I held up a hand to gently stop her. "It's the way you react to things, the little habits you have... it's like looking into a reflection of myself. Every time you say something or do something, it feels like something I would do."
The words felt strange in my mouth, like I was trying to convince myself as much as her. But deep down, I knew they weren't entirely true. How could she be me? She was kind and open-hearted in a way I'd never been. She was naturally warm, effortlessly good. And me? I was none of that. The more I thought about it, the more impossible it seemed that she could be a version of me.
She looked at me, her eyes searching mine. Diana's hands fidgeted with the strap of her bag, her gaze shifting between me and the pavement. The tension in her shoulders seemed to ease a bit.
"It's strange and confusing," I continued, "but also comforting. That's why I trust you. It feels like trusting my own instincts." I paused, choosing my words carefully. "And even though I can't explain it, there's a part of me that just knows you're telling the truth."
Or at least, that's what I wanted her to believe. The truth was, I wasn't sure I even wanted an explanation. Because if I questioned her more, if I tried to dig deeper into why she was here or who she really was, there was a chance she might disappear. And the thought of losing her—even if I didn't fully understand her—felt unbearable. Having her around made everything seem a little less lonely. Even if she wasn't really me, even if this whole thing was impossible, I wanted her to stay.
I looked at her, hoping she could see the sincerity in my eyes, even though I wasn't sure what I was being sincere about anymore. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over everything. She gave a small nod, her expression softening.
"We should... keep talking about this sometime," I added, my voice barely a whisper. I knew I should question her more, try to understand what was really happening. But the idea of pushing her away, even with questions, felt unbearable. So instead, I just kept walking, letting the silence settle comfortably between us.
Maybe it was enough to just have her here. For now.
Turning past a corner, the house came into view as the late afternoon sun began to dip, casting a golden hue over the neighborhood. Daniel walked up the front path, his footsteps crunching softly on the gravel. His key klinked as he fumbled and inserted it into the door.
Diana, meanwhile, took a different route. She headed towards the back of the house, where the old ladder leaned against the wall. She glanced around at the backyard—overgrown grass swaying gently in the breeze. Wrapping her fingers around the rungs, she began to climb. The rungs felt warm beneath her fingers, each step taking her higher. As she reached the top, she paused for a moment, looking out over the quiet, empty backyard before slipping through the attic window.
Inside, Daniel opened the front door, the familiar scent of home washing over him. "Hey, Mom," he called out, his voice echoing slightly in the hallway.
Carmine appeared from the kitchen, a warm smile on her face. "Hi, honey. How was school?" she asked, wiping her hands on a dish towel.
"It was good," Daniel replied, giving her a quick hug before heading toward his room. "I'm going to do some homework."
Carmine raised an eyebrow, surprised but pleased. "Well, that's a nice change, Daniel."
Daniel smiled back at her, then made his way to his room. Closing the door behind him, he felt an unexpected surge of energy, a lightness in his step. He set his bag down and pulled out his homework, feeling a rare sense of eagerness to dive in.
He worked diligently, the minutes ticking by unnoticed as he completed one task after another. When he finally finished, he laid back on his bed, the sheets rustling beneath him. Usually, he would reach for his phone or start up a video game, eager to escape into a different world. But today, he didn't feel the pull of his usual distractions.
Instead, he stared at the ceiling, a soft smile playing on his lips. His mind wandered over the day's events, the interactions, and the unexpected turns. For the first time in a long while, he felt motivated to tackle his responsibilities first, finding a quiet satisfaction in his accomplishments.
Diana, on the other hand, sat alone in the attic, her surroundings quiet and still. She looked around the small space, the only sounds being the occasional creak of the house settling and the faint noises from outside. She sighed softly, hugging her knees to her chest. The warm evening light cast long shadows across the floor, and she found herself lingering by the window, watching the world below.
As the evening settled in, Daniel remained on his bed, feeling more alive and content than he had in a long time. His thoughts drifted, and he realized that maybe, just maybe, his life wasn't as boring or meaningless as he had thought, making him feel more grounded and present.
For the first time in a long while, Daniel didn't need an escape. His life, filled with new experiences and emotions, was enough.