This Side of Reality Chapter 4
This Side of Reality
Chapter 4: Doppelganger
He was turned away, busy unpacking, when I first entered the dorm. I tapped my knuckles on the open door, intending to get his attention for introductions, but when he turned and faced me, I froze for a moment.
My new roommate, Ethan, was nearly the mirror image of Ivis.
Perhaps his face wasn’t quite so sharp, his figure not so lean and angular. His black hair was different, cropped close on the sides and longish on top, a recent style, but the way wisps fell over his blue eyes, only to be brushed back, was familiar. The human coloring was warmer. Still, my mind transposed an image of Ivis, albeit more tangible, more...something. Yes, it was a shock meeting Ethan, and even more so when my childhood name, now only used by Ivis, fell from his lips.
It was strange, the new voice, coming from Ivis’ twin. Ethan’s was deeper, unaccented, warmer.
I’d never been the most outgoing or open person, except with my longtime friend, but Ethan’s appearance was confusing, set me on my guard. But talking with him felt comfortable, and it started to slip, until he mistook JoAnn to be my mother. Thankfully he didn’t pursue the subject, instead turned back to music. Violin I could share.
As we unpacked, a quiet fell between us. I was glad, my mind still reeling, trying to untangle Ethan from Ivis. I knew they weren’t the same person, but the resemblance was just so unsettling.
Later in the evening, Ethan left for dinner, and I found myself in a practice room in the dorm’s basement, hunting a melody I still couldn’t recall clearly. Maybe it had been incomplete to begin with. Sometimes, when I allowed myself to think back, I could recall a little of my father. He had played violin, composing a song in that long-gone life, or so I’d pieced together. I wasn’t sure if it was a real memory, or a product of my imagination. Sparked, maybe, when his violin found it’s way to me on my eighteenth birthday, along with an as-of-yet unseen photo. An inheritance. The photo showed a dark-haired man, with a neat beard, eyes closed in concentration as he played. Or rather, danced with the instrument, if the sublime expression on his face was any indication.
Danced as I danced now, feeling the violin come to life at my touch, as I tried to pull the eerie tune out of the strings. It soothed away some of my unease, to play like this.
I had lost myself in the music when Ivis appeared, as he was wont to do, somehow bypassing even locked doors and windows. “You are getting closer to it, are you not?” His clear, accented voice called me out of my trance.
I pulled my bow over a final note as I regarded him through my eyelashes. “Maybe.” He was perched on top of the piano, huge wings somehow compacted behind him in the confined space. “It still doesn’t seem quite right,” I added. I held my violin loosely at my side and leaned against the wall near him. “Ivis…”
I bit my lip, feeling foolish, but I had some trepidation mentioning Ivis’ newly discovered doppleganger to him. Maybe I’d only imagined the resemblance. Ivis caught my wandering eyes with a sharp look, prompting me to continue. “Ivis, it’s strange. This Ethan, my new roommate? He looks just like you.” I finished in a rush, “It’s like a human version of you!”
He regarded me quietly for a moment. “It is not so uncommon,” he murmured, “to see a human that wears an echo of one of us.” More quietly, he added, “I think I was human once. Perhaps distant kin.” I saw a flicker in his eyes and knew there was more that he wasn’t telling me.
I sighed, and he knew that I’d noticed. We could read each other well enough. “It’s just weird,” I huffed, tapping the tip of my bow on the floor. I could feel myself frowning as I watched the end touch the carpet and jump back up.
“Ari, do not act a child. I said it is not unusual.” His voice was even, but there was an undercurrent of frustration. “I am not so pleased myself, to hear of your discovery.” He stood in a fluid motion, bringing his face to eye level, and leaned closer to me. “Yes, there is more. But it is buried in lore.” He frowned. “I have some searching to do. But Ari, remember, this boy is not me.”
“Of course not,” I grumbled, unappeased.
Ivis’ face softened. “Do not be so afraid to make new connections. I shall repeat this again: not everyone is destined to disappear from your life. This Ethan…” he hesitated. “Always trust your instincts, Ari.” He brought his hand up and rested his fingers on the gem-seed I had received so long ago. It hung, as always, on my chest above my heart. “This is my tether to this world.” His hand lowered to rest above my heart. “And this my tie to you. You must use it to create new bonds.”
I shrugged. “I’ve made friends.”
“Friends, Ari. Not family. You have not opened your heart to a new family.”
My bow tapped the floor again. “Ivis, you are my family.”
Ivis sighed and chucked me under the chin fondly. “Yes. I am also not human.” He chuckled. “Stubborn boy. I know you will never forget your past, but it is the past.”
He was right. This was becoming an old argument. A less patient person might’ve just told me to get over it, but it was hard to. Nothing made me feel like home or family. It wasn’t just the loss of mine, but the instability I’d had until recently, that left me so guarded. No one had wanted the broken boy who saw faeries. Sometimes I had even doubted Ivis’ existence myself. But he had been all I had, with the Fairy’s Heart at my chest a constant reminder that, yes, it was all real.
“I’ll try,” I finally murmured.
He flashed me a bright smile. “Now, let me hear your lovely music. Was it Vivaldi?” he asked, referring to a piece I’d been trying to master. I could chase my mystery melody later. I nodded and straightened up. Ivis loved hearing me play, and I was always happy to oblige.
o - o - o
My new roommate was already in bed when I finally returned from the practice room. Presumably asleep. I studied him more openly, comparing him again to Ivis. Yes, aside from the haircut, he was practically a human version. I hadn’t been mistaken.
o - o - o
They were innocent enough, tucked into a cup among some pens and markers, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of those two loops. They were just scissors. But all I could see was red. Blood spilled on the floor. My mother’s dead eyes. The police officer was trying to ask me something, but I just shrank into the blanket they’d draped over my shoulders.
A week passed, and still I was silent. At least someone had been sensible enough to move the scissors. Now it was a psychiatrist trying to ask me questions. I just stared blindly as I toyed with my gem-seed necklace. I wondered if Ivis had been killed, too, but at the end of the first week, he found me. I hugged him fiercely, and then he stroked my back as I cried.
Ivis slowly soothed my grief. He reminded me that I was alive. He became my friend, even when I said nothing. His visits gave me hope. He told me of the forest, the winter snow, the spring melt.
“Are the flowers blooming yet?” I asked quietly. My voice was hoarse from months of disuse.
Ivis took it in stride. “Not yet, but the trees are starting to bud. The grass is turning green again.” He smiled warmly. “The air feels greener.”
“How can the air feel greener, Ivis?”
He huffed playfully. “You just have to feel it, Ari.” He poked me experimentally in the side, and I jerked back with a hiccup of laughter. He tickled me again, and I giggled. I wasn’t happy yet, but the laughter felt good.
“I feel greener,” I said softly.
Ivis smiled. “Yes, you do.”
Another month passed. It was late spring now. The psychiatrist rarely asked me questions anymore, and instead spent our time together reading to me. I preferred that, anyway.
“Ari, you must talk to them,” Ivis coaxed.
“I only want to talk to you!” I pouted.
“Child, I am not human.” This would be the first time he reminded me, of many more times to come. “They think you broken. If you do not speak with them, you may never leave this place.” I thought about my current residence, some sort of hospital. It was a very careful atmosphere, the nurses and my psychiatrist always gentle and kind. I thought about playing in the yard. I thought about how lonely I was when Ivis wasn’t around.
“I’ll try.”
o - o - o
I woke from my memory at the sound of my alarm. I silenced it quickly out of consideration for Ethan. He'd warned me that he didn’t have any 8am classes. I envied him.
My alarm cut through the room again as I was changing into some jeans for the day. Apparently I’d hit snooze, instead of off.
“Fucking Ari! TURN. IT. OFF!” Ethan growled from under his pillow.
He was apparently not a morning person. I chuckled to myself as I made certain the alarm was off for good this time. Then frowned, realizing he’d used my nickname again. I tried to shrug it off as I caught my hair up into an elastic band. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and grabbed up my violin, quietly exiting the room and avoiding further mishap.
Eyes still groggy, I trudged over to the nearby cafeteria for breakfast and coffee.