My Other Half-By Susan Thomas

    My dear old Aunt Clara always used to tell me to stay out of the locked room in the attic. That nothing but trouble could come from that room. I can hardly be blamed for not listening to her rule. I did resist for many years. I didn't even think of going up there until she passed and I found the key. That child like curiosity was reignited when I found the old rustic antique looking key. There were stories of what was up there, but they were all our imaginings. I wanted to be the first one to find out. I was in no way prepared for what I discovered.
    I made my way slowly up the stairs from the first floor. My Aunt Clara lived in an old victorian era house that had been in the family for generations. The house would now pass to either me or my sister. My parents had no interest in an old house, they prefered that cold, uncomfortable modern decor. You know what I speak of. That stale white look with furniture that looks so uncomfortable you wonder why anyone would possibly want to own such a thing. A place you are afraid to touch for fear of making something dirty or hurting yourself. That was my parents style and I hated their modern day condo. I was hoping my sister would pass on the house and I would get it.
    As I reached the top of the stairs the floor boards beneath my feet let out a long and loud creak. Surely everyone knew where I was now. I then walked to the end of the hall and pulled down the ceiling door to the attic. I pulled down the ladder and headed up. Despite the entrance my Aunt had fixed up the attic like just another room. She said she liked to go in the attic for her "me" time.  Even when she came down with the leukemia that eventually took her life she still insisted on going up to the attic. Who knows how she managed to get up there with the little strength she had. One would think it wasn't possible.
    I flipped on the light switch. I had been expecting it to look dark and smell musty like all attics, but it was refreshing to discover that it was nicely decorated like the rest of the house. She had cleverly installed light to make it look like natural light coming in. I then saw it. The old door that had always been forbidden. It stuck out like a sore thumb. It was the only thing that maintained the old attic like look.  I sprinted toward it like a tiny child. I hastily shoved the key in and turned it until I heard a click. I then grabbed the old glass door knob and turned it. I gently pushed the door open and could hardly believe what I saw.

    I saw myself standing in the only part of the attic that actually looked like the attic. It was barren and had no furniture expect for a few boxes and a small lamp on the floor that was turned on. Although it looked like me it also didn't look like me. It was hard to put my finger on, but the difference was more of a feeling. It seemed darker and cold hearted. The dead look in her eye sent shivers up my spine. Although it looked like me I couldn't believe it really was.
    "Hello Sophia. You seem well, " she said in an erie voice.
    "Um...hi...who are you," I asked nervously wringing my hands.
    "Oh you know me Sophia. Perhaps not well, but I know you very well."
    "I certainly don't know you. I think I would remember a previous encounter."
    "Oh yes this is the first face to face meeting so to speak, but you know me. I'm that part of you that you like to pretend doesn't exist."
    "I don't know what you are talking about."
    "You know that voice that whispers to you and what it says disturbs you so that you try hard to ignore it. That small voice that thought that Ted Bundy wasn't that bad. The voice that told you murder is just another choice not something morally wrong."
    "I don't know what you are talking about."
    "I'm the one that whispered to you that lies are okay. Even the big ones. That a lie can't hurt anyone."
    I stared at her feeling very uncomfortable. I didn't like were this was going.  I began to slowly back out of the room only to hear the door slam shut.
    "Oh no my dear. No one leaves the room of reflection without admitting their guilt. You are not going any where. You must admit your guilt and embrace who you are."
    "What?"
    "You need to admit what you have done. Go ahead tell me what you did to your dear old Aunt. I already know. You just have to say it out loud. You can blame me if you want. After all I gave you the idea."
    "I don't have to do this. I'm leaving!" I quickly turned around and tried desperatly to try and open the door.
    "You can't lie to me. I am you. I am that part of you that you pretend isn't there. Everyone has one. You my dear are more influenced by me than most people are by theirs. Many people know I'm there and tell me no, but you on the other hand. It's so easy to get you to see things my way. Like what you did to your precious Aunt. I should mention she wasn't a saint."
     "Fine. I killed her! I admit it, but it wasn't all that bad. She was dying anyway. She was in pain. She even asked me to. She didn't want to deal with the pain!"
     "So killing a person is okay if they ask to die. Where is that written? You know that she could have been talked out of it. All you had to tell her was that her pain medication had been replaced by sugar pills by none other than you."
    "No."
    "She couldn't die fast enough for you. You wanted this house, but you needed her to give you permission first. We both know she has beaten leukemia before. She had a chance, but you sabotaged it and pushed her and manipulated her until she begged to die. The truth is that you are a greedy cold blooded killer!"
    "NO!"
   "You can't lie to me! I told you to do it. You listened after some pushing. Now I ask you to do one more thing. You need to kill your sister. She wants this house to."
   "Okay maybe I'm guilty of what you say. I shouldn't have done it, but I will not kill my sister. She probably won't want this house. She has mom and dad's taste."
   "Learning to say no are we? Suddenly developing a back bone to me of all people?"
   "I would turn myself in, but I can't let someone else suffer. This room will torment whoever lives here. I desreve the torment. No one else does."
    Suddenly the door opened. I began to walk out the door while I still could. As I stepped out and closed the door I heard my other half scream one more thing.
    "Your just like your Aunt! I look forward to tormenting you my dear!"
    I ran out of the attic and out of the house. I found my sister sitting on the porch. She looked up at me.
    "I know you want this house sister. I have to admitt I am fond of it to, but only as a vacation home. Would you do me one favor?"
    "Sure." I barely manged to get out.
    "When you go on trips let me house sit. I would love it."
    "Sure. Just one rule."
    "Of course. What is it?"
   "Stay out of the locked door in the attic. I made the mistake of going in. Trust me stay out."
    "Of course. I never thought of going in. I figure Aunt Clara had her reasons."
    I stepped down and wondered into the yard and chose a spot in the sun and sat down. I would enjoy any peace I had before I moved in. Soon I would live in torment, just like Aunt Clara.