Psychosis

Past

Mrs. Salvatore and I sat in her empty classroom. She informed me that it was not safe to talk outside and even thought I was reluctant to go with her, my feet followed behind her as if they had a mind of their own. She used her key to get into the school and here we were. She sat on top of her desk and me in a chair a few feet away from her. We were both quiet. She seemed to be waiting for me to speak first. I had a lot of questions. But I didn't know which one to start with. Who were those people? Why were they trying to capture me? How did she know where I was? Who was she really? And what the hell power she had because it was nothing I've ever seen before other than my dad who had telekinesis and the ability to teleport. But he was the only one. Maybe she had the same power? Nonetheless, that wasn't the pressing question.

"Who..are you Mrs. Salvatore?"

"I told you my name was Elizabeth"

"That means nothing to me. I never knew an Elizabeth" I said to her and she sighed a bit, chewing on her lip as if she was trying to find the right words. She looked tense and on edge, like she was looking for danger at any corner or any moment. Considering what has happened tonight so far, I would be too.

"You did..before you were corrupted" She said carefully and I tilted my head at her.

"What do you mean corrupted?" Mrs. Salvatore sighed again and walked around her desk, rummaging through it's contents as she spoke.

"Do you remember that friend I told you about? Who went missing ten years ago?" She asked me and I hummed in response, confirming I remembered. She said nothing as she stood up straight, holding a book in her hands. I squinted my eyes through the dim light and saw that it was the same scrapbook from earlier today. She tossed it over to me and I caught it with ease. On the front said her name, Elizabeth Rose. It was even prettier up close. I looked up at her and she nodded to me, a silent notion to open it. I held my breath and opened the cover, seeing a picture of a little girl in the arms of a very tall and thin man. He had red and black spiked hair and was dressed in all black. Next to him was another man, shorter and a bit more chubby. His hair was almost like a rainbow, longer and only spiked up in the middle. It was obvious the little girl was her. Even though she changed her hair from blonde to black, she still had those beautiful eyes and determined face. She was dressed in a bathing suit while they others wore regular dark clothing. They were posing on a beach, with their backs against the sea. It seemed to be a beautiful and perfect day.

"Are these your dads or something?" She narrowed her eyes slightly and I shrugged.

"I don't judge Mrs. Salvatore. Love is love"

"Yes they are. Now turn the page" She instructed me and I sighed, turning the page. The next picture was of her again and a little boy with his back turned. He was building a sand castle and seemed too into it to pose for the picture like she did. This must of been her friend she was talking about. They had quiet an age difference. She looked to be seven years old and he looked to be only three or maybe four years old.

My eyes traveled to the picture next to it and my heart stopped in my chest, my blood running cold and my body freezing.

The boy had turned around this time, smiling into the camera for whoever was taking the picture. His black hair was slightly in his face but they didn't cover his sky blue eyes that were filled with happiness and excitement. His arm was around the girl and they were close together, seeming like they were the best a friends.

But what I didn't understand was...I was looking at a picture of me.

There was no mistake. I've seen pictures of myself when I was much younger. This kid was a exact image of me. The same eyes, the same smile, the same facial structure. All of it! All of it was fucking me and I didn't know how that was even possible. I've never seen this woman or this girl in my life before. I have no memory of this beach or ever being friends with her. There was nothing in the back of my mind that could explain this. But this was, even impossible, was me.