A Self-Study Within A Broken Mind

I came back a few days later on Easter Sunday’s end. Much of the pageantry by the coming of spring was lost to the quarantine of the virus still wreaking havoc in the world, but at the very least I boiled some eggs and ate them with a bit of borsch dissolved from powder. That was the weakness of tradition rooted in me long ago, and it proved to be a difficult memory to shake. As long as the traditions did not offend or hurt anyone, save for some unborn chickens, I was ok with giving it the standard effort. I arrived at the room downstairs from the library to find it empty. In a state of strange melancholy I gravitated to the invisible laptop on the table now moved into the corner. Lila had to have done that for some reason, but the four chairs still fit at the available sides with two to each side. There was no point in keeping the laptop hidden anymore, so I made it visible again with a motion. What did I say last time to hear her voice again? “I…” I said, but trailed off. What was th...

I arrived at the library on the following Monday to find Rebecca sitting atop a bookshelf, overlooking the library. It took me a second to realize that it wasn’t really Rebecca but Shadowbecca. Dividing herself was a slippery slope to actually splitting her mind like me. She could create versions of herself to make certain things easier, but the danger came from the clones becoming self-realized. I decided to test the reality of these copies. I floated up and sat next to Shadowbecca. “Do you speak, or did Rebecca make you mute to make sure you could stealth around?” I asked, but no response came. Minutes passed as I waited for Rebecca to run in and force me between her legs to mingle our beasts, but nothing occurred. I drifted off into a memory of Tiarto’s story and pondered how I could bring him to the world stage. “I can speak,” Shadowbecca said, focusing me back to the library. I looked around, but it was just the two of us. What was Rebecca doing that was so important that she di...