Conversation No. 2

On another Earth

"You know what people—sorry, I meant researchers—are saying nowadays?"

What?

That voice again. It has been ringing in my ear non-stop. I am about to lose my mind.

"Anyway, what I was saying was: you know how there's, like, seven skies and seven wonders of the world and all that stuff?"

He's not gonna answer. You aren't even making eye contact, for God's sake. Hahaha.

"So, apparently, theoretically, there are seven Earths, too! And guess what, of each creature walking all of these Earths there may be six other clones. Exact name, face, beliefs, etc. First time—"

You are boooooring. Of course he's gonna leave. What were you even thinking about telling him about that stuff?

"Hey, where are you going?!"

And he is gone. Just talk to me. I am far more interesting.

In a soft whisper, I speak to the distance.

"Who are you?!!"

You know, that little theory you were so excited about has been hypothesized eons ago.

"What? How? It just aired a couple of days ago. Where? When?—"

Well, why of course, on the first Earth that I come from. The other you. The OG, baby.

“B-But—I don’t believe you! I can’t even see you, for God’s sake. For all I know you’re some voice I have fabricated in this stupid head of mine. So...just go away.”

A boisterous laugh echoes around the circumference of my head and I swear I could have gone unconscious for a second.

It sounds just like mine. My laugh.

“Darling, darling. You believe me. Yeah, you do, judging by the look on your face, I am 100% sure.”

The shock on my face must’ve been stuck there ever since that voice declared that she is me. Which is absolutely ridiculous. That can’t be—

“Anyway, beautiful. Without beating ’round the bush, lemme just spit straight out.”

For some reason, I remain silent.

Actually, the reason may be that everyone around has been staring at me like I’ve grown another head.

I may have. Seeing that other voice is just like mine and—

The sound of fingers snapping breaks the trance of my thoughts, successfully bringing me back to reality.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! You with me? You ready for what I’m ’bout to say?”

I don’t even talk like that. Yet for the sake of getting rid of that voice, I opt for humming under my breath.

“Do. Not. Do. It.”

“What? Don’t do what?”

“Those thoughts that are swirling ’round in that pretty head of yours. You know it very well. Just don’t do it.”

And it was the gone. The voice was gone.