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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
I don't do summeries

Submitted: December 03, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 03, 2012



I like things simple. Simple. Nice. Neat. I have OCD, which is Obssessive Compulsive Disorder. I want between the lines, never on top of. If, accidently, I touch a line, a must touch another line in the exact same spot as with me opposite foot. Teeth much be brushes twice, the same way, the same order, same speed, same time of day. Socks must match, books, pencils, folders, notebooks must be all alined with the desk and each other. If you look at my dresser, everything has a neat and orderly place.

While, my physical life may be simple and in complete order. My spiritual life, the one that lives and breaths alone side my physcal life, is an abrupt, dishonest, angry messy life. It is the polar opposite of my outward self, and  this is where the story begins, on the inside. My Neat Self is Andrea (On-Dree-Ah), while my Messy Self is Cassidy. Lets begin, shall we?

From the perspective of an angel resting on a cloud above tells the tale of the battle fought between me and myself.

* * *

Andrea focused souly on the homework placed before her, while Cassidy jumped up and around the enclosed space that held each captive. They were worlds apart, but within feet of each other, a solid wall of blankness separating them, but not solid enough that light and sound were held. "Andrea!" Cassidy chirped, stepping over the boundery with easy. "Oh, Andrea! Lets play a game!" Cassidy was met with silence. She took the seat in the corner of the room and watch Andrea play with her pencil as she worked out the riddle from her English Class. AP, Cassidy thought, Andrea is doing AP English. Of course it wasn't Andrea, it was Gloria, the person that had cleanly spilt Andrea and Cassidy.

Andrea and Cassidy use to be one and the same. Their enties mixed in perfet harmony, until one day Glory simply grew tired of Cassidy ruining her prefect grades and ripped them apart, spliting the two personalities right in half, making one the exact opposite of the other.

Andrea closed the paper in a folder and turned to Cassidy. "Stop being so childish, Cassidy. You're nearly grown, it is time to act like it."

Cassidy snorted. "Games are not only for childern, Oh-Miss-I-Am-Woman." Cassidy tossed her light hair over her shoulder and crossed her legs, her frilly white skirt falling silent across her lap. Andrea's blood red lip curled into a sneer. Cassidy's "inner-self" trembled, but she held herself still.

"We may be the same age but I am much more mature than you, Cassandra."

"My name is Cassidy."

"Suit yourself, Cassidy. Cassandra is a much more dignified name." Cassidy let the comment slide over her as she examined Andrea. Dark curly plastering closely to her thin, fragile frame. Dark lashes with dark irises. A pair of black skinny jeans and a dark red shirt. Eyeliner heavily outlined her eyes, her cheeks brushed with red powder, making her look flushed, red lip stick making her lips appear bloodied.

Andrea watched Cassidy, trying to decifer why the two were so different when they were once two parts of a whole. Cassidy was fair skinned, blond hair, blue eyes with golden eyelashes. No make up, white, frilly clothes. Not a stitch of dark clothing in the "closet" across the void. Wear Andrea wore heavy, lace up, combat boots, Cassidy walked around barefoot, her slender feet finding their way silently. Why were they so different?

Cassidy sighed and picked herself up. "I'll take my leave. You do what you wish." She fled quietly, her skirt ruffling out behind her. Andrea turned back to her studies, but found she couldn't. She relaxed against the old swivle chair and closed her eyes. Materilizing out of thin air, Andrea grabbed the warm cup of coco and sipped. Could this meagerly existence possibly go on? Andrea and Cassidy not seeing eye to eye, just simple being with arguments pasted upon thier lips.

Andrea watch Gloria's actions through her eyes. She was perparing a sandwich, unaware of the turmoil Andrea and Cassidy were in. Andrea continued her sipping, silently, watching, thinking, plotting. The last word stuck Andrea. While she has been particulary hostile toward Cassidy, the root-word 'plot' is akin to evil, so to speak. Plot is evil, plotting is the process of doing evil. A whistle sounded between Andrea's lips and the cup was taken away.

Could Andrea possibly?

No, she couldn't....Cassidy was a companion.

"Andrea! I'm not mad at you. I just thought you'd want to some alone time." Alone time. That's all she eve had anymore, because she was hostile. Andrea glanced at Cassidy quickly. Yes, yes she could. While Cassidy slept. Or better yet....

"Cassidy. Would you come this way?" A door way opened to Cassidy's stunning disaray of a room. "May I speak with you?"

"Sure. About what?" Cassidy asked, leaving the doorway open. Andrea got a good long look at it. Untied clothes strung everywhere, pencils, papers, drawers open vomiting clothes onto the clearly hidden floor. "It best not be about my room! I like it the way it is and you never go in there anyway."

Andrea snapped back to Cassidy. "No, it's not." Andrea's room was tied, everything marked and put away. Imagine that? "I want to talk about us. How would you feel about escaping this hell hole?' Cassidy stepped back.

"I like it here."

Andrea stood, "You can't honestly mean that. You have nothing to do, no where to go, no room to move, and only myself to speak with. What do you say we get out of here?" Cassidy stepped back further and shook her head. "Just you and me. No Gloria."

"No, Andrea, I don't want to. I want to stay here." Andrea put her hands behind her back as Cassidy disagreed, and materalized a knife. A simple knife. "I like it here." Cassidy repeated.

"But, Cassidy." Andrea murmured. "I have already made up my mind." With that, Andrea lundged. Cassidy screamed...


* * *


The world was brighter on the outside. Like escaping a prison. A dark hair girl walked down the street with a light hair girl. They looked to be opposite but the same. They past the straight a student in their new school, who's name was Gloria. Gloria looked up at the two, knowing there something about them that seemed so famaliar. The blond looked helpless at Gloria than glanced at the dark hair girl with blood red lips.

"I don't understand. Why can't we speak to her?' the blond asked.

"Because." answer the dark hair one. "She'll know who we are."

"We've changed our named."

"Anna and Cassidy aren't a huge change."

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