"You look a little distracted." Tara said right before a sip from her coffee. It wasn't every day I was able to get out of the house to have any alone time. Even now, a week after my appointment with Dr. Wager, Tara and I only enjoyed a brief meeting at a coffee house. It was nice to be able to sip coffee without the children constantly needing me. I had only been out of the house for maybe thirty minutes by now. I was surprised Frank hadn't been blowing my phone up, asking when I would return home to handle the children. He became overwhelmed with them rather quickly.

I forced a halfhearted smile. I knew I would tend to drift off in my head at times. I supposed it looked quite obvious to people when I did. "Yeah." I sighed.

"Wanna talk about it?" She offered kindly. I knew she was genuinely asking. I knew she wanted me to actually open up. I was just so unsure of how much was safe to say. How much could I say before it started to weird people out? I wanted so badly to be seen as normal. All while at the same time, wishing people knew the full extent of my struggles. I really wanted to be able to share with Tara. I knew I could trust her not to be too judgemental. I just didn’t know where the line was. I was scared I might find it.

"I wish I could." I said honestly. "I just don't think it would make sense." When I looked back up to her, my heart sank. Of course, she had shifted. My best friend. I looked back down to my cup of coffee on the table.

"You can tell me anything." The imposter assured me. "You know that I'll always be here for you." Sure. Whenever she was real. Whenever the real Tara had any amount of time for me.

"Sure." I nodded. I was feeling a small spark of anger within me. Like I was some kind of toy to be played with. Did they realize when they shifted that I could see right through them? Or did they think they were still fooling me? Either way, my annoyance was leaking into my words, "When we were in school, we used to send each other a picture of an animal. An ugly animal. Do you remember?"

She laughed now as she thought of it, "Oh my God. That hideous dog, Kimmy?" She laughed all the more, "I had forgotten all about that! Yes! The dog! What about it?"

My frustration prickled my insides. She did know about the dog. Just like Frank remembered our date. This was so infuriating. How they could take on the slight appearance along with the memories. How was I ever going to be able to call them out or prove that I was right to them if I never had the proof? I couldn't use the appearance since apparently I was the only one who ever saw that. Either that, or they only pretended not to notice. Gaslighting me. I found that explanation to be far more likely. What I didn't know was why. I still hadn't pinpointed anything close to an endgame or purpose. I didn't know why I deserved this treatment. "Nothing." I sounded a little down now. I didn't have any further means of testing her.

"Something must be on your mind." She tried again. I was thankful to have someone who seemed to care at the moment, while at the same time, I wanted my real friend back. "Something does seem to be bothering you."

I felt that spark take hold of something within me at her inquiry, "I can't talk to you." I finally told her bluntly. I didn't care at that moment if I was showing my hand at recognizing their games. "I will talk to Tara when she gets back."

The confusion was plastered all over her false face, "What?"

"Don't play dumb with me." I scoffed, tired of it all, "You realize I can see you, right? I'm not blind. I'm not stupid. I'm not crazy."

"What?" She muttered again.

"Everyone always expects answers from me." I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my chair, "Here's an idea. If you are really my best friend, why don't you give me the answers instead. Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?"

She sure was playing her part well to look so concerned and confused. I would say she could be in films. Very believable. But not quite. "Doing what, Kim? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hm."That was definitely not the kind of lame answer I was looking for. At some point, she had to drop the act. "There must be some purpose. There must be some goal. What is it? To make me lose my mind or something?"

"You're making me worried." Was all she said. I could tell her anything, she had said. I guess the truth wasn't part of that.

"Yeah. Act like I'm the problem. When you know." I pointed at her now. "You know what this is. All of you do! I am sick and tired of being shoved into the corner and just slapped with some kind of label like I'm insane! I won't keep wearing that label for you or anyone else!"

"Kim!" She looked around the empty coffee shop to see if any eyes had been drawn during my outburst. All while for once, I didn't care who might be watching. I had even had more than enough of my stalker. I had half a mind to simply scream at the top of my lungs here. I was so afraid all the while being tired of being afraid.

"If you won't tell me why, then I think we are done here." I pushed my chair back, snatched my coffee up, and made for the door. I knew I had shaken her. But that was what I wanted to do. To give that other side a push.

I could tell there were ripples on the pond because by the time I made it home, my husband was quickly on my case. Tara had called him. "I thought we talked about this?" He met me at the door to get this argument started immediately. No kiss. No greeting. Just this.

"We did." I immediately felt small. I was supposed to be getting it together. I was supposed to be playing the part of a normal woman who was living a normal life. All my anger from before had boiled out on the drive home anyway. Now, all that was left was this feeling of shame. Tara, if that even really was Tara, would have been so hurt by my actions. I flip-flopped briefly now between feeling that anger again and feeling ashamed for acting out. If Frank didn't look like himself, I may have freaked out on him, too.

"You want people to treat you like you're crazy? He snapped, "Keep acting crazy. But if you want people to treat you like you're normal, then get it together and act like an adult."

Him insinuating that I was childish for my potential disorder definitely fanned the anger I was revisiting in waves. I knew there was no point in trying to justify myself with him. He wanted a normal wife. I must behave normally when I am at home. I had to play along and simply be a wife and mother. That was all that was required of me. "Okay."

"Not okay." He wasn't satisfied with my assurance, "You made a scene in public, Kimberly. Do you want to be here with your kids or locked up in some padded room? You need to start taking this seriously and thinking about the consequences of your actions."

"I will!" I turned away from him to get away from the conversation. We had already discussed this more than enough times. I knew what was expected of me. I wanted to be at home. But I couldn't deny that things were getting worse. People were shifting more. The voices were more often. My paranoia was at an extreme. My fear was heightened. I was blacking out and losing more and more time. I could barely remember anything. I would have gotten lost on the way home if not for the GPS. It was as if I was slipping through the dimensional crack further and further, a little at a time. Where more things started overlapping and becoming more confusing. That was the only explanation I could think of for what was going on. But which direction was I going? Back into my dimension? Or fully out of it? Then, there was the case of my stalker. My stalker existed in both realms. Was it two different stalkers or was it one that was able to bleed through into both dimensions? Was it really dimensions, or was it more like spiritual spaces? If my stalker - or stalkers - were really demonic in nature, then that would explain how they were able to move back and forth or recognize the spaces like I could. That would explain how they were always able to remain just out of my sights. Just far enough that I couldn't prove to anyone else that they were there.

I had taken to reading my Bible as often as I could. It was my best form of defense spiritually. Physically, I did have a firearm I could use in case of emergencies. Thankfully, I only used the Bible for now. Daily at that. It drove Frank mad. He kept asking what I expected to find within. He didn't know I found peace and protection there. I didn't expect him to ever understand that with his stance on religion. No point in trying to elaborate on that for him.

The next day, Frank brought home a safe to lock the gun in. I didn't have any issues with that whatsoever except for the fact that out of the two keys it came with, I wasn't given either. This entire implication didn't sit well with me.

"For protection." He had explained when I asked him the purpose.

"No," I said, "Not the safe. The keys. Where is mine?"

"Why do you need one?"

"Excuse me?" I was deeply offended by this. As if he needed to be the only one with access, "It belongs to both of us. Both of us should have a key."

"If you need it for any reason, let me know, and I'll get it for you." He said this all so calmly, not picking up my meaning whatsoever.

"What if you're at work and someone breaks in?"

"You stab them?" He suggested with a shrug, "You seem to have the knives on point."

"So, you don't trust me with a gun?" I jumped straight to the chase.

"Of course I don't trust you with the gun." He said with zero hesitation, "I don't trust you with the knives either, but I can't lock all of those up because we use them for cooking."

"Are you serious?" I felt the spark of anger take hold again. Did he not see how deeply he was insulting me?

"Do you see yourself?" He gestured to me, up and down. "You don't sleep. You barely eat. You look pale. You zone out all the time. And you think every knock at the door is some assassin sent to kill you. You don't need a gun. Heaven forbid you shoot the delivery driver."

"I'm not that irresponsible!" I protested, unable to believe his very words. He was supposed to support me and be on my side. Yet, he was alienating me and seeming to lock me outside the walls of our relationship. The trust was severed. All because I was either sick or I knew too much.

"Relax." He wasn't going to budge on this decision no matter how much it offended and hurt me. I could tell that much. I didn't ever feel like a priority to him. My feelings anyway. He was too focused on his ability to control every little thing at home. If it didn't convenience him in some way, it hardly mattered.

That night, I was sure to make a very strong drink to go along with dinner. Perhaps a good numbing was all I needed to take the rest of the day in stride. I say stride generously. Considering my very low tolerance for alcohol, I wouldn't be doing much walking at all. Not only did I have a low tolerance, but it also made me very, very sleepy. Which was also what I wanted. Just to be numb, forget the world, and sleep.