Chapter 17

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Trigger warning: mention of overdose at the end of the chapter.

*Luke's POV*

I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. I should have been honest with her from the start. The more she remembers, the more evident the truth will become.

Her sudden departure left me in disbelief. Yet, deep down, I knew this was typical of her. Even in moments of confusion, she remained stubborn and true to herself.

Despite my frustration, I couldn't blame her. No one was at fault here. I was simply tired of navigating through this situation. Yearning for things to return to normal, I found myself missing how things used to be and the plans we had made together before the Alzheimer's.

She had been gone for two hours now. I had decided to give her space to calm down, while also contemplating how to approach the truth without causing further distress.

Just as I resolved to come clean, the sound of the front door opening and closing interrupted my thoughts. I rose from the dinner table, longing for her familiar honey brown eyes, only to be met with a pair of angry, dark ones.

I stood frozen, bewildered by the sight before me. Kendra appeared drastically different, with chin-length, raven color hair.

Confusion clouded my mind. How could this transformation be possible without any external changes? Could her subconscious alter her appearance?

"Kendra?" I hesitantly called out, still processing the unexpected transformation.

Her face twisted into a sinister smirk, a stark contrast to Kendra's usual demeanor. "You can call me Kassandra," she declared, her voice exuding strength and defiance, different from Kendra's usually gentle tone.

Baffled, I inched closer, seeking answers. "Where's Kendra?" I inquired cautiously.

"She's unavailable at the moment. I'm here to get some answers from you, Luke," she replied, taking a step forward.

With a chilling ultimatum, she presented a choice: cooperate willingly or face a more forceful interrogation. Holding up a length of rope, she made her intentions clear.

"Kendra, I will not engage in a physical altercation with you. What has come over you?" I asked, concern evident in my tone.

"I said it's Kassandra." She snapped, with a disapproving expression.

"Now, are you going to explain what's happening, or do I need to resort to physical force?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Kendra or Kassandra, you're acting irrationally. I refuse to engage in conversation with you this way," I said, frowning.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," she threatened before grabbing a lamp from the side table and lunging at me.

She attempted to strike me with the lamp, but I managed to block her, pushing her against the wall. As she dropped the lamp, she made another attempt to attack me, and we ended up on the floor.

I found myself beneath her, trying to defend against her punches while avoiding causing her harm. Was she experiencing some sort of psychotic episode?

It seemed unlikely that she was suffering from dementia, as her brain had healed and her Alzheimer's had been cured before reaching that stage.

After a struggle, I was able to grab both of her hands and flip us around so that she was now on the floor. In her resistance, she kicked the couch, causing a scraping noise on the floor.

As I struggled to contain her, I was completely unaware of the front door opening or the presence of another person in the room until I heard her voice.

"What the hell, Kassandra!" Kendra's sweet voice screamed in front of me.

I looked up, my eyes widening in confusion. I released the girl beneath me and stood up from the floor.

Glancing back at Kassandra, who was now getting up, and then at Kendra, I asked in utter amazement, "How is this even possible?"

"I don't know, Luke. I think you owe both of us an explanation," Kendra said, crossing her arms.

"An explanation? Why the hell are there two of you?" I asked incredulously, throwing my arms up in frustration.

"Care to explain why Kassandra, someone I had created in my mind to help me cope with a school bully when I was 8, is now walking and talking? You're the scientist, Luke. You're the one who always seems to know more. So explain," Kendra demanded.

"Okay, but let's all sit down and discuss this in a civil manner, can we?" I asked, sending a pointed look in Kassandra's direction.

She raised her hands in surrender and headed towards the kitchen where the dining table was located.

As we all sat down, they looked at me expectantly.

Turning to Kendra, I explained, "This isn't real life."

"No kidding, Sherlock," Kassandra retorted.

"Since Kassandra is here, that is quite evident, Luke. Get to the reason we are here," Kendra said, unimpressed.

"Kendra, you were diagnosed with Alzheimer's about three years ago," I continued, but Kendra cut me off.
"That's insane. Don't people get Alzheimer's after the age of 65?" she questioned.

"Some adults can develop early onset Alzheimer's in their 30s, 40s, or 50s." I explained, and they both nodded for me to continue.

"You began to experience symptoms quickly. You started forgetting small things like your favorite recipes, the day of the week, and later the month and year. It only worsened from there, as you began to forget who I was. That's where your recent dream comes into play. I arrived home one day, and you didn't recognize me. You attacked me with a fork." I paused, trying to catch my breath.

Kendra's eyes widened, and Kassandra started laughing hysterically.

"I'm so sorry, Luke," Kendra apologized, reaching out to hold my hand.

"I guess you really didn't need me after all," Kassandra said before disappearing.

My mouth fell open as I looked at the empty seat where Kassandra had been sitting. Then I turned back to Kendra, questioning her.

"She's my alter ego. I created her while I was being bullied in school and used her as a crutch whenever things got too hard to handle. I never needed her with you, Luke. You made me feel safe and protected. That is, until very recently. I'm guessing this is why she resurfaced. Why didn't you tell me before?" Kendra's face showed hurt and disappointment.

I sighed and hung my head low, knowing that what I was about to say would hurt her.

"You tried to overdose on sleeping pills."

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