I didn''t try to pull Katrin and Errod into my memory palace again, despite Katrin asking. I went back in myself, of course, spending a little time each day searching for the wayward... figments? Intruders? Whatever they were. I found the football-jersey me wandering around and while she wasn''t very communicative she also didn''t try to stab me which I considered a win. I thought about chucking her out the window or something, but she - it - seemed harmless. It felt like some background character from a dream, where it didn''t have any lines.


    I only caught a glimpse of the anime-looking one made out of amber, as she sprinted - still naked - from one memory door to another. I ran after her, but even though I went into the same door she was nowhere to be found. The rest of the football team seemed to be totally gone, something that I would have rather been the case for the scraggly scarred My Little Pony shirt one. She showed up directly behind me at one point, making me jump and scream like someone in a slasher film.


    "Fuck! Are you going to stab me again?"


    "No," she said in that odd accent, "Did not work, you are still alive."


    "Okay. Well. You''re a figment of my imagination, and so you don''t belong in here. Just... I don''t know, fuck off back to my subconscious or something."


    She raised an eyebrow, then ignored me and looked around the room. It was my childhood bedroom at my mom''s house, complete with scribbles on the walls and stickers - half peeled off - all over my bedframe. "I remember this room. Yes. And remember what you did here."


    "Well that sounds vaguely ominous. Okay, so you''re some sort of manifestation of my self loathing or something, cool. Great. I''m sure you''ll be a real blast to have around."


    "What else do you have here?" She asked as she stood and shoved past me, into the hotel room. "Oh, this room. Yes. My... uncle?"


    "Yeah, uncle Roy. Very good."


    She nodded and stepped out into the hallway.


    "No, no, don''t go poking into my memories. Not cool."


    "But I am your imagination, you said."


    "Yeah but I don''t... I don''t know how any of this works. This seems super fucked up."


    "Fucked up?" She tilted her head and squinted at me for a moment, looking genuinely baffled. "You have strange ideas. The things you have done, and this is what is fucked up?"


    I rolled my eyes. The scarred, strangely accented clone of me felt cliched somehow. It was the kind of thing I would expect from some ham-fisted student film, this twisted part of my subconscious manifesting itself just to... I don''t know, give me shit. "Okay, yes, I''m a terrible person. Happy? I''m awful and should feel bad."


    She nodded, but then held up a finger. "But."


    "But?"


    "But. You returned the little girl to her parents. Why?"


    "Because I''m not a monster. Jesus. Look, can you just... fuck off? I know you''re some shadowy NPC from my dreams that wants me dead and thinks I''m a piece of shit or whatever, but can we agree that right now since you can''t kill me and I already know I''m a bad person your job is done? Hmm?"


    She shrugged, and opened a door.


    "No. No, those are my memories. Stay out."


    "I have seen them before." Before I could stop her she darted through the door. I charged after her and ended up in a group home - my first one. When I''d originally unlocked the ability to search through my memories, they''d been organized - roughly - by year. But it was clear that was only a loose suggestion, since I was eleven in this one.


    "Tsk. You steal, from the other girls."


    Sure enough, pre-teen me was digging through someone''s stuff. I tossed aside some clothes, pocketed a bag of goldfish crackers, put on a cheap bracelet. Then I found a photograph of the kid with her parents - I mean, presumably that''s who they were. It was creased, like it had been folded up to be shoved in a pocket, and the corners were so dog-eared they were almost fuzzy. There were some stains on it, a spot of what looked like maybe blood and some places where it was slightly bubbled up like the photo had gotten wet; maybe it had been near a spilled drink, maybe someone had cried all over it, it was hard to say. I looked at it, then got up and walked to the window where I promptly rolled the photograph up and shoved it through the metal mesh that kept us from sneaking out. It dropped out of sight, ruined.


    The other me shook her head, sneering. "Of course. Breaking things. Ruining things. Hateful."


    "No, I... I don''t know, I was... maybe she had been mean to me, and..." And what? And so I''d destroyed some treasured keepsake? A precious memento that was clearly the most important thing she owned? Besides, I remembered well enough even if I didn''t want to - she hadn''t been mean to me at all. She had invited me to sit next to her. "I don''t know why I did it. I don''t want to be here. Just... fuck you. Get the fuck out of this memory."


    "This life," she said, "you ruined it. I will fix it. Undo what you did, if I can."


    "Oh, no. No way. We''re not doing some bullshit multiple personality thing. I''m the real me, and you''re some fucking nightmare caused by eating something spicy before bed." She looked at me, and her eyes seemed to be smoldering like hot coals. There was a rage there, that I hadn''t seen even when she threw a knife into my eye.


    "You are the real one? You? You are a monster, like mother said. I will pin you down and cut that face from your skull so I can feed it to you. You will beg. You will cry. You will come to me on your knees, asking me to shit in your mouth so you can choke on it and feel the release of death rather than continue in the agony I have in store for you. Never say you are the real one, you pathetic shadow. Thief, ruining lives. I saw, when you killed that man in the car. I had to watch, when you stole mother''s teeth. I was there, behind your eyes, powerless, when you committed all of your sins and then felt sorry for yourself. You look surprised. Did you think we were having a nice chat? Were we getting friendly? Did I slip, for a moment, and praise you for doing the right thing with that girl?"


    I had backed up without realizing it and startled as I thumped into the wall. The eleven-year-old version of me was gone, somehow, and everything was oddly still and silent like the memory was waiting for something to happen. "Uh. I mean mainly I was just thinking your English was improving all of a sudden."Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    She smiled, a feral grin. "Yes, it works both ways doesn''t it? We share everything, whether we want to or not. But I will not share this face with you any longer, and I will not listen to you claim it as your own. You want to be a new person? A better person? You want to pretend you never tortured animals or lit the school on fire? Then when you wake up, darling sister, do me a favor and march out into the jungle until you find something large enough to swallow you whole. Prove you''re better than you were by removing a great evil from the world. Otherwise, I will do it for you. Because no matter what you say, the ''real'' you is the monster and you know it."


    I hadn''t ever tortured animals, or killed some guy in a car. Had I? Was this some sort of repressed memory? No, she was insane. Insane and imaginary. I mean at a minimum I was certain I hadn''t stolen my mother''s teeth, what the fuck could that even mean? Granted, I had lit the school on fire - but it wasn''t a big fire, and they put it out. She was just making up random things, like some sort of Mad Libs for psych patients.


    "Okay, miss creepy. That''s enough. I''ll admit, that was a pretty good speech. Maybe a bit far with the whole ''you''ll beg to choke on my shit'' thing, I don''t know if that''s scary or just silly, but overall it was a solid eight out of ten. But we''re done now, this is my brain and you''re not in charge. So uh, begone. I banish thee. Fuck off."


    She shook her head, and walked into the closet. I waited a moment, not sure what to do, and then peeked in after her but of course there was just the expected collection of junk - some board games that were missing half their pieces, and old humidifier, and a moth-eaten old quilt. I headed back into the hallway, then into my normal rooms. They were vacant.


    "Okay, cool. Yeah. And stay out."


    But of course I wasn''t sure she was gone, or even if she could be gone. After all, if she was a part of my brain there wasn''t anywhere else for her to go. The whole ''evil manifestation of guilt or shame or whatever'' thing seemed a little trite, but presumably I could find some way to deal with her. In the meantime, it didn''t seem like a great idea to bring Katrin in - and just to be absolutely safe I wanted to get that mind security in place.


    Having wandering figments in my mind palace meant I didn''t feel safe sleeping in there, which meant I was back to having nightmares most nights.  Katrin and Errod were still seeming cranky, with the little looks and comments increasing.  I would do my morning chores, which at first I had found relaxing - there was comfort in having some very straightforward jobs to do with no boss and no timecards and no case workers - and then Katrin or Errod would ask me to do them again, or bug me about how I did them.  They''d be all up my ass when I wanted to relax and play with Mister Creepy, my remote-controlled spider thing, but then if I asked them to do anything they would look pissed.


    They didn''t act pissed though, it was more of a vibe.  Errod, in fact, annoyed me in the morning sometimes with how cheerful he was.  I wasn''t enjoying the camping anymore - I wasn''t enjoying anything - so when Errod was all smiles and saying good morning after a long night of nightmares and dealing with those fucking mana-eating bugs Katrin''s attempts to make a mana well had attracted I wanted to shove him in the fire.  Instead, without thinking, during our training exercises I headbutted him right in the nose. We''d been sparring, I was supposed to try to hit him, but that had been a complete foul.


    "Sorry," I said, unconvincingly. I could feel it, see it from inside like I was watching a slow motion train wreck. Why had I done it? Well, he''d left himself open. Sure, but... what the fuck was wrong with me? I was too mad at myself to apologize properly, so I went and sat in the mana well and turned on the threads.  Nothing much there, just the normal.  Could I see something where Katrin had made the well?  Maybe, faintly.  Enough that I could probably target it if I''d unlocked my Binding stuff like I should have.  I could have just tied it off, made it semi-permanent so Katrin wouldn''t have to stay nearby and maintain it.


    As if my thoughts had summoned her, Katrin sat down next to me.  "You okay?" she asked, soap on the edges of her face making it clear she''d been interrupted halfway through her morning routine.


    I wanted to just ignore her. She was always following me around, asking questions, giving unsolicited advice. She had called me reckless, but she was the one that on a fucking whim had just headed off with some stranger. What gave her the right to act like the responsible one? Or to act like my best friend - we actually barely knew each other, other than... well, hanging out non-stop for a few months and slowly sharing more and more personal stories as we lay in bed at night or talked around the fire, and saving each other''s lives a few times as we fought beside each other.  So.  Fine, maybe she was my best friend, but it''s not like I''d had that many.


    Fuck.


    "No. No, I''m trying to justify being mad at you for some reason. I''m...  I didn''t sleep well, and I''m in a shitty mood, and I think I hate everyone right now. And there''s some memories I should probably look at but don''t want to, and I just know that now you''re going to want to offer to help and frankly I don''t want you to. I don''t want you seeing that shit. But I also don''t want you to be all understanding and reasonable about it, because you''re pissing me off with how calm and rational and friendly you are. And Errod is making me angry by being nice and pure and shit, and even then I can tell you''re angry or tired of me or something.  And the moskar keep shitting in the worst places so I almost step in it, and I''m going to burn this whole camp down."


    She nodded, and sat down. I braced for her to say something calming and mom-like and be an overly good friend for no fucking reason. "You''re a bitch and I want to slap you."


    What. "I... okay fair, but that was not what I was expecting."


    "You''re moody, and you''ve gotten lazier and lazier about morning chores so Errod and I have to ask you to finish them which isn''t fair and shouldn''t be our responsibility.  Worse, sometimes you skip your chore and then ask one of us to do it, so we either have to do your work for you or tell you no - at which point you snap at us.  Also, you just gave my brother a nosebleed which I should absolutely light your hair on fire for.  Oh, and twice now you''ve eaten the last of a meal after watching me put away some for later."


    "I thought you were just putting away leftovers."


    "Bullshit. You''re a bad roommate. You make a mess in our wagon and I end up cleaning it all up. Your blanket was on the ground this morning, and you got water everywhere washing your face. You keep putting natta flakes in the stew when you cook - "


    " - it was my turn to cook! I thought that meant I got to make it my way!"


    "Callie, you know damn well you''re the only one that likes that shit. Do you think that I always cook things the way I like when it''s my turn, or do you think I maybe consider you and Errod?"


    "I... well, I mean. That''s your choice, you could... aw, fuck. Okay. You''re right."


    "I know I am." She sighed. "But I also know you would risk your life for us if you had to, and I know you let me order you around and make a list of memories you had to check on even though that''s not really any of my business, and I know you hate it when I sing while I''m cleaning the wagon -"


    "Hey, no, that''s cute. It''s just that one fucking song, with the yodeling."


    "I don''t know what that means even with the bracelet on. Anyway. You''re a good person in a lot of ways, and we''re all shitty and selfish sometimes. And right now, this is all just minor stuff that''s feeling big and annoying because we''ve been cooped up here too long. So. I''m going to take a wagon, and Errod, and I''m going to go into town for supplies. We need to get some space for a few days.  And you''re going to stay put and not get into trouble and do all the chores so the jungle doesn''t destroy all our hard work while we''re gone - and then when we get back you''ll be happy to see us again. Deal?"


    I nodded, and then even though I wasn''t really feeling it I pulled her into a hug. They packed everything and in less than an hour they were gone, leaving me all by myself. Watching them leave all I could picture was my mother''s car, tearing away from the campsite. I knew it wasn''t the same, knew they would be back, but knowing wasn''t the important thing. It was deeper than that, like having a fear of heights. It didn''t matter if you knew you were safe, if it was ridiculous to not be able to climb a ladder. It wasn''t logical. And so I sat, and I had a very quiet panic attack, and then I pulled myself together and made some lunch. Within a few hours I was feeling better - one of the upsides to being emotionally a bit numb - and I was even looking forward to a few days by myself.


    But of course, they never did come back to that camp.