To: condorboy
Date: Wednesday, February 22—11:17 PM
Subject:
She is winning, Connor. My evil twin. I don’t know where the real me stops and she begins. She runs and runs and I follow, and it’s getting easier, this racing around. The track is part of my feet, her feet. I am strangely calm. I am focused. Everything is clear all of a sudden. The pain comes from the struggle, not from the girl. She wants me to stop fighting. She promises me there will be no conflict. She whispers and her voice is soft. It is not the sound of evil. She says, Let go. She says, Relax. She says, Don’t you want to stop fighting? And I say yes. She says, Close your eyes. And I do. Then she takes over and I feel myself slipping, and the falling feels like freedom.