Work Text:
They keep calling me Nem.
I thought it meant I had a connection with her. I even dreamed of her, her life. I dared to hope I’d find in her someone who understood me.
I didn’t.
She doesn’t like me, and I find I don’t much like her.
It worries me that the others see a connection between us.
Apparently I’m deeply unsettling. Creepy, even. This is the thing we’re supposed to have in common.
It doesn’t seem a kind comparison.
Cassidy was the first to call me by her name, and I realise now it wasn’t meant as a compliment.
But now the others do it, the ones who’ve only known me as Addie.
Their slips have become more common. I watch as they catch themselves – halfway through another’s name – before they stop and remember.
Have I changed that much? Am I losing myself in this place? Would I still recognise myself in a mirror?
If I don’t look maybe I won’t learn the truth.