The moon hung heavy in the sky, a pale, glowing witness to the secrets Emily carried. Its silver light cast long shadows across her apartment as she sat curled up on the couch, gripping a mug of chamomile tea. The voices in her head had been quiet tonight—an eerie silence that unsettled her more than their usual murmuring.
She had lived with them for as long as she could remember. Whispers in the back of her mind, fleeting thoughts that weren't hers, emotions that surged like a tide, pulling her under when she least expected it. But the most terrifying part was when they took control. When she would blink and suddenly find herself in a place she didn't remember going, speaking words she didn't remember forming.
Her therapist called it Dissociative Identity Disorder. A rare and complicated illness. But to Emily, it felt more like being haunted by echoes of herself.
Tonight, however, she had something else to focus on. Rachel had convinced her to go on a blind date.
"Just one night, Em. You deserve this," Rachel had insisted, eyes shining with determination.
Emily had resisted at first. Relationships had always been complicated for her. But Rachel was persistent, and maybe—just maybe—Emily wanted to believe she could have something normal.
Now, as she stood in front of the mirror, fixing the loose waves of her hair, a voice stirred in the back of her mind.
This is a bad idea, a familiar one murmured.
"Not tonight," she whispered back, shaking off the unease.
The Blue Lily Café was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the chill of the autumn night outside. The scent of roasted coffee beans mixed with hints of cinnamon, creating a comforting embrace. Emily spotted him almost immediately. Ryan.
He looked exactly as Rachel had described—dark hair that curled slightly at the ends, deep brown eyes that seemed to hold unspoken stories, and a smile that was both cautious and kind.
Her heart stuttered as she approached.
"Emily?" he asked, standing as she reached the table.
She nodded, her hands gripping the strap of her purse. "Ryan?"
"That's me." He smiled, gesturing to the seat across from him. "I'm really glad you came."
As they talked, something inside Emily began to unwind. He was easy to be around, his voice soothing, his laughter infectious. For the first time in a long while, she felt present—fully, completely.
But then, it happened.
A shift. A cold wave running through her veins. The flickering of reality.
Her vision blurred, her fingers twitching. The voices surged forward like a tidal wave.
Mine now, one whispered.
Panic shot through her. Not here. Not now.
She clenched the edge of the table, nails pressing into the wood. Ryan's brows furrowed in concern. "Emily? Are you okay?"
A cruel chuckle echoed in her mind. Her lips parted, but it wasn't her voice that spoke.
"Of course," another version of her purred. "I was just thinking how much fun this night is going to be."
And just like that, she was gone.