Don't Let Them Get Inside Your Head | Teen Ink

Don't Let Them Get Inside Your Head

November 7, 2016
By OliviaC SILVER, Wyckoff, New Jersey
OliviaC SILVER, Wyckoff, New Jersey
7 articles 0 photos 0 comments

That day had been possibly the strangest and most terrifying day of my life. I truly believed that no other day would engrave itself so deeply and permanently in my mind, leaving scars that would last for the rest of my existence. For that day, Isabella Cohen had disappeared without a trace, leaving only memories in her wake.
It had seemed like any other cold October day when I received the news. I could recall exactly what news channel I was watching that day, I could remember the way that that name had cut right through me, startling me and causing me to give my full attention to the information being relayed.


Despite this, only a few words registered in my mind.


“Missing since Tuesday night...if you have any information or see this girl… so far no leads.”


I couldn’t take it anymore. I quickly shut the television off and tried to block out the increasing feeling of panic that was welling up inside of me. I rushed through that night’s homework sloppily, thoughts still echoing in my mind, before deciding that maybe going to sleep would be the only thing that could block them. I got into bed and shut my eyes, waiting for the darkness of sleep to take me over.


It couldn’t have been more than a few hours when I awoke again. I glanced at the clock, groaning when I realized it was now 11:45, an hour after I had fallen asleep. However, the reason for my rude awakening suddenly came to me. Even in my groggy state, I could not shake the overwhelming feeling that someone was...watching me. I frantically scanned the interior of my room. My breath stilled and my heart temporarily stopped as I located the outline of something in the far corner of the room. The unmistakable shape of a person. In my shock and terror I couldn’t stop myself from calling out, “Who’s there?!” The shadowy figure did not answer, instead choosing to take a step forward. The figure was now directly in the path of the moonlight streaming from the window, illuminating the details of its face. In that moment I was sure I had gone crazy, for I could have sworn that the face that was staring back at me was that of the very much still missing, Isabella Cohen.


Isabella opened her mouth to speak.
“Hello, Jessica”
The familiar voice made my blood run cold, and I considered not responding to the girl, but my curiosity won out.
“Isabella? Why are you here?
“Isn’t that obvious? I wanted to talk to my absolute faaaavorite person”
There was no way that was true. Not after the fight that caused us to go our separate ways.
“Are you real?”
“Who knows?”
“Am I dreaming?”
“How would I know?”
I had to ask it. The question gnawing on my mind this whole time.


“What happened to you?”


For the first time since the conversation had started, the girl’s mocking smirk had fallen, replaced by a hardened look that I hadn’t seen since Isabella had told me that she never wanted to see me again. And yet here she was, standing in my room, after being missing for days. I glanced over at the clock, curious to see how long we had been talking. The large red numbers read 11:45. The second hand had stopped moving entirely. I knew it, I was losing my mind. I was broken out of my reverie when Isabella spoke suddenly.


“I should go. You seem tired”


I shut my eyes and tried to let sleep take me over once more, determined to block the other girl’s presence out, but I could not. How could this be possible? Isabella was missing, there's no way she could have just appeared like that in my room, without anyone hearing her enter. Why would she even be here with me? Out of everyone, why would she choose to come to me first, if she had managed to make it back to our town? After all that happened between us, there was no way in hell.


I wished I could say that was the only time such an event had occurred. And I wished I could say I did not like her repeated appearances. But that would be yet another lie I told myself. Every night for the past month, I fell asleep, and woke to the girl standing somewhere in my room. Every night we would talk and for some reason that was still unknown to me, I had become accustomed to the other girl’s nightly presence. The time we spent together reminded me of old times before our fight and it made me long to be back then, when we were still friends. Before we fell apart and before she disappeared.


In time I came to find that I was not the only one who had been kept awake on a nightly basis. My mother had told me to get into the car one day, after listening to my late night ramblings. She started driving, with no explanation of where we were headed. We had driven in suffocating silence, and I felt too uncomfortable to break the tension and ask my mother’s intentions.


We had pulled up and parked in front of a small brick building, where I was quickly ushered inside and into a small room where a woman with a saccharine smile sat. She introduced herself as a therapist and said she had wanted to talk to me concerning a few worries that my mother had for me. In no time, she had begun her interrogation.


“What was your relationship with Ms. Cohen?”


“We were friends...but we had a falling out… she hated me after that. She must still feel the same.”
“So when is it that you see her?”
“Every night. Only at night.”
“If I remember correctly the last time I was seen was late at night was it not?”
“I think so.”
“What do you talk about with her?”
“Everything. I always choose the topic though.”
“And how do you feel when you talk to her?”


“Like I’m in a dream. But at the same time I’m wide awake. Strange stuff seems to happen while we’re talking. I can never figure it out. I feel guilty for what happened between us before, but I feel happy when we talk. As if everything is okay.”


“I feel that I must ask this. What would you do if it was just a dream? If one day, she stopped appearing?”
“I know it's more than just a dream. But if she stopped appearing I'd find her. Even if I had to search alone. I’d do anything to get her back”


Once the questions stopped, the therapist left the room to speak to my mother, pulling the door shut behind her. I pressed my ear against the door to hear their conversation.


“Let's keep an eye on her and monitor any further... interactions with this so called friend of hers. If she proves to be dangerous to herself or others we may be forced to take more drastic measures, for her own safety”
I left that solitary building with tears stinging my eyes, just telling myself that I just had to hold out until the night. I’d see my friend again then, and everything would feel better.


That night I awoke as usual. However, I noticed something was different, a deviation in the usual routine of the last month. The room was empty. Isabella was nowhere to be seen. I could feel the panic rising as my mind went blank and adrenaline rushed through my veins. I frantically searched my room, checking behind the bedroom door, under my bed, and inside the closet. Surely Isabella was here. Surely I had to be somewhere.


An idea came to my mind. Outside. The girl must be somewhere outside! I felt a rush of relief before I realized that that meant my beloved friend was in danger again. I had to find her. I had to. I was the only one who could protect her.


I put on my jacket and a pair of sneakers before throwing opening the front door noisily, not caring that my mom would surely be woken by the noise. I ran down street, turning and weaving until I had left the confines of my own neighborhood, all the while keeping my eyes peeled for that familiar face. I couldn’t think. It was as if I was a puppet, being moved by some higher power. My breathing stopped as an idea came to me. There was a forest nearby. Wouldn’t that be so easy to disappear into; just a perfect place to hide? Isabella could be there, she has to be. This was the only thought in my mind as I ran across the street, and towards the expanse of trees, nearly being hit by a passing car on the way. I crashed through the branches and bushes, unable to feel any pain from them hitting my face. I only managed to make it a few meters further when I felt a large hand grab my wrist, preventing me from moving any farther. I swung my head towards the perpetrator with a vicious snarl on my face, my eyes completely dilated in anger. There was a group of policemen standing behind me, looking worn out but nonetheless concerned. The one who had grabbed me spoke.


“Are you Jessica Montgomery?”


“Let go of me, I’m looking for a friend”


“Please, Miss. It’s not safe to be out this late, especially not in these woods. Your mother called us. She’s worried sick”


“I, said, let go!”


I reacted instinctively, my arm extending quickly, my fist colliding with the man’s jaw hard enough to cause him to collapse. The other officers wasted no time in throwing themselves on top of me and pinning down my flailing arms, ignoring my erratically shouted threats. That was the last thing I remembered before everything went black.


I had awoken in an unfamiliar room, where everything was unnaturally white and sterile, obviously a hospital. I looked around the room, taking in the sink, as well as doors leading to the bathroom, and closet. It seemed like a place designed for a long term stay. I swung my legs off the bed, standing and walking to the door, turning the handle to find it securely locked. No, no, no, there was no way this way happening, I didn’t belong here, and my friend was still out there somewhere, scared, alone. I pulled on the handle, before resorting to knocking on the door, desperately hoping for a response. An overly friendly voice eventually responded from the outside.
“Good morning, Miss Montgomery. I’m sorry we couldn’t explain the situation to you adequately. You were brought in late last night, completely unconscious. It’s alright though. Eventually you’ll be caught up. I hope your time at Fawnville Asylum does you some good, Miss Montgomery”


There had to be some mistake. I didn’t belong here. I had to get out, I needed to escape. I wasn’t crazy! Tears streamed down my face as I began to pound the door desperately, repeatedly yelling that I wasn’t crazy! I couldn’t be!


As I banged on the door, sobbing and screaming, I could've sworn that I heard familiar laughter from behind me.



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