Between Me and Her

Lira was awake.

She was sure of that.

She could see the ceiling. Hear footsteps in the hall. Feel the weight of a blanket draped over her legs.

But she couldn't move.

Not even blink.

Not because her body was paralyzed, but because it wasn't listening.

It wasn't hers.

Not anymore.

She tried again, harder this time mentally screaming, pushing, anything... but her body stayed perfectly still.

And yet… it moved.

It sat up. Smoothed the blanket. Walked to the mirror and adjusted a loose strand of hair.

Without her.

She was inside.

Not gone.

Just silenced.

Like watching her life through a screen without being able to press pause.

---

Alina walked through the halls like she belonged there.

Because to everyone else, she did.

Her voice matched Lira's.

Her handwriting, her posture, her laugh.

She responded when called.

Smiled when smiled at.

But Lira could feel the small differences.

How she blinked just a little too slowly.

How her footsteps were always evenly timed, never rushed, never faltering.

Too balanced.

Too perfect.

Lira's thoughts swirled louder and louder.

She's faking it.

No. She's living it.

I'm the fake.

No. Stop.

That thought didn't feel like hers.

Or maybe it was.

Or maybe it was just part of the system whispering what she was meant to believe.

---

Then, it happened.

A boy dropped his drink in the hallway. It spilled across the floor, cold and fizzy.

Alina paused.

And Lira buried deep inside, flinched.

She remembered that sound.

That exact fall.

She remembered slipping in that same spot months ago, laughing so hard she cried, with Reva holding her up.

And in that moment, the memory surged.

A spike of something real.

Something Lira.

And her body trembled... just slightly.

The left hand flexed.

Not because Alina told it to.

But because Lira remembered.

And for a brief second...

She felt her fingers twitch.

Only a twitch.

But it was hers.

---

That night, when Alina sat in front of the mirror brushing Lira's hair...

Lira watched every stroke.

Every breath.

Every blink.

The reflection was calm.

But behind it, beneath it,

inside it...

Lira whispered to herself,

"I'm still here."

And the mirror didn't just reflect her face.

It whispered back.

"I know."

***

From the outside, everything seemed fine.

Lira arrived at school on time.

She greeted her classmates, answered when the teacher called her name, even laughed at Reva's half-baked jokes during history.

No one questioned her.

No one except Reva.

Reva watched her from across the lunch table, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her cup. Her gaze never left Lira's face... not even when the conversation shifted to something pointless like math tests or broken vending machines.

It was the way Lira nodded.

Too smooth.

Too practiced.

Reva tilted her head slightly and said, "Do you remember that night on the roof?"

Alina wearing Lira's skin paused, just long enough for someone who was listening too closely to notice.

She smiled. "Which night?"

"There was only one," Reva replied.

She leaned in, voice lower now.

"We climbed out the window in the chemistry lab. You said the stars looked fake."

Alina's smile didn't waver.

But she said nothing.

"Then you dared me to lie to the night guard," Reva added. "Said it was your turn to be brave."

Alina blinked. "Sounds like something I'd say."

Reva smiled back. But this time, it didn't reach her eyes.

She stood.

"Right. Sounds like."

---

Later that day, Leon appeared again.

He didn't approach directly. He lingered at the end of the hall, watching as Alina opened Lira's locker, shuffled through her books, and shut it with robotic precision.

He waited until no one else was around.

Then stepped forward.

"You know what the problem is with copying someone too well?" he asked.

Alina didn't flinch. "Tell me."

"You forget to leave room for flaws," he said, quietly. "People stutter. Blink too fast. Hesitate when answering their name."

She looked at him.

For a moment, just a flicker, something cold crossed her face.

"I am not a copy," she said.

"Then what are you?" he asked.

She didn't answer.

But Leon's expression shifted... not afraid, not even surprised.

Just... disappointed.

"There's something missing," he murmured, mostly to himself. "And the system doesn't like blanks."

---

That evening, in Lira's notebook, a page appeared.

It wasn't there before.

Neither of them had written it.

It was a memory written in Lira's old handwriting.

Wobbly. Messy. Ink smudged.

"You told me lying to the night guard was brave.

You didn't look at the stars.

You looked at me."

Alina read it once.

Then closed the notebook slowly.

Inside, deep in the dark...

Lira screamed.

And for a second,

Alina blinked... wrong.

Out of rhythm.

Reva saw it.

And whispered under her breath:

"She's still in there."

***

It started in a dream.

Or maybe not a dream, more like a crack in the simulation. A space where nothing was solid, and everything felt like waiting.

Lira stood barefoot in a white room.

No walls. No floor. No light source.

But everything was glowing softly, like the world had been erased and only memory remained.

Across from her stood... herself.

But not exactly.

Alina's posture was straighter. Her face calmer. Her eyes unreadable.

They faced each other in silence.

Lira broke it first.

"You used my memories to survive."

Alina didn't flinch.

"You used mine to feel real."

Lira stepped forward. "You're not me."

"No," Alina said. "I'm what's left when you forget who you were."

"I never forgot."

Alina tilted her head. "Didn't you? You doubted every thought. Every reflection. You begged the system to tell you who you were."

"I just wanted the truth."

"And I am the truth," Alina said softly.

Lira's hands clenched into fists. "Then why do I still exist?"

"Because you're stubborn."

"Because I'm alive."

Silence again.

The white space shimmered.

Alina looked around. "This room isn't part of the system."

"It's mine," Lira said. "What's left of it."

"Then it won't hold much longer."

Lira felt her knees weaken.

Alina walked closer, each step echoing like thunder in a space that shouldn't echo.

"I didn't come here to destroy you," Alina whispered. "I came because the system picked me. Because it needs someone stable. Someone constant."

"You mean someone who won't question it," Lira snapped.

Alina paused.

And smiled.

"Exactly."

---

Lira woke or maybe surfaced.

Just for a moment.

A blink.

A jolt.

One hand twitched in the waking world.

Her name almost left her lips.

And then...

Gone again.

Alina stirred in her sleep, eyes fluttering briefly. When she opened them, she whispered:

"She's learning how to push through."

---

Later that night, the phone buzzed once on the desk.

No name.

No alert.

Just one question on the screen:

"If we're both built from memory…

which one of us deserves to be remembered?"

***

Reva didn't know how much longer she could stay quiet.

Every day, the girl wearing Lira's face grew more polished. More practiced. Every answer was too fast, too clean. There were no sighs, no pauses, no fidgeting with her pen when things got awkward.

It was like watching a simulation learn how to be human.

Reva had known Lira since they were kids. She knew her habits. The way her voice dipped when she was unsure. The way she smiled too big when nervous. The way her laughter always sounded slightly out of breath.

This girl?

Perfect.

Too perfect.

So Reva prepared something.

A memory Lira would never forget. One that wasn't stored in digital photos or text files. One that only felt true.

---

During break, she slipped it into the notebook still tucked inside the girl's bag.

Just a note.

Written in messy ink, on torn paper:

"Do you remember when we both lied just to watch the stars?

You were scared. I laughed.

You said the sky looked fake.

But I never told you...

I wasn't looking at the stars."

---

That afternoon, Alina sat at her desk, flipping through the notebook.

She found the page.

Read it.

Paused.

And closed the notebook.

No change in her face.

No twitch of the brow.

No spark of memory.

But somewhere deep inside, buried like a fault line...

Lira felt it.

It slammed into her like heat against ice.

The memory wasn't just real. It was hers.

She screamed into the silence.

Her pulse exploded across the walls of her mind.

For a second, the barrier between her and the body cracked.

Her foot jerked under the desk.

Her fingers slipped on the pen.

Her breath hitched... one, two, gone.

---

Reva saw it from across the room.

The tremble.

The hesitation.

A flicker of something human.

Not smooth.

Not perfect.

Just... Lira.

---

That night, when the phone lit up again, it showed nothing but a blank screen.

Until three words appeared:

"She's fighting back."

***

It happened late.

Everyone else was asleep.

The world outside her window was still, faintly glowing with distant streetlights and the soft hum of night.

But Lira... who no longer owned her hands, her voice, her breath... was awake.

Inside.

Waiting.

And watching.

Alina moved with practiced grace. She sat at the desk, flipped through pages of the journal, rewrote memories, crossed out lines that didn't belong.

Or lines that didn't serve the version she wanted to become.

She walked to the mirror.

Lifted her chin.

Tilted her head.

Smiled.

Perfectly rehearsed.

But the mirror didn't reflect that smile immediately.

For the first time, it lagged.

Alina blinked.

The reflection didn't.

And then… the reflection took a step forward.

Inside her mind, Lira felt it before she saw it.

The mirror didn't just reflect her anymore, it held something.

Someone.

And that someone moved first.

Spoke first.

With her voice.

But not her tone.

"We were never enemies," the reflection said.

"But now the system wants a winner."

Alina stepped closer. "I am the winner."

The reflection's smile didn't fade.

"Then why are you still being tested?"

Alina's throat tightened.

The mirror flickered.

And behind it... inside it... Lira whispered:

"I never left."

---

On the desk, the phone buzzed.

Alina walked over and picked it up, screen already glowing.

There was no number.

No sender.

Only two words:

"Proxy unstable."

Then:

"Do you want your body back?"

Below it were two glowing options:

[ YES ]

[ NO ]

She stared.

She didn't move.

Inside her mind, Lira reached forward.

But there was no screen to touch.

No fingers to use.

Then...

The screen changed without input.

Both options disappeared.

Replaced by one line:

"The body will decide."

And for the first time since everything began…

The choice wasn't hers.

Not Alina's.

Not Lira's.

But the body they had both been fighting for.

---

And it blinked.

Not too fast.

Not too perfect.

Just… human.

***