The Mirror Of Midnight

Midnight is when lives split.

We were warned about it from a young age. People are only meant to live in small chunks, one day at a time. Stay up too late, cross that boundary between one day and the next with your eyes open and your mind alert, and who knew what would happen.

I did of course. Absolutely nothing. It was clearly just a ghost story the grownups told children to get them in bed at a reasonable hour, and they themselves only went to bed because at a certain age, you start getting tired earlier than you used to. Besides, what about time zones? It was changing between one day and the next constantly, somewhere in the world. Midnight shouldn’t be any more special than twelve noon. I had looked it up once; if it was noon here it would be midnight for Ryelestan. If I was one of their citizens, which counted?

I never tried it though. When your parents and everyone else tells you something your whole life, even something ridiculous, it eats its way into your psyche. So I went to bed on time, slept well, and never found out if I was right.

Until, that was, I met Lily.

***

You knew she was a strange woman from the moment you laid eyes on her. Her hair was dyed midnight blue, with contact lenses to match. If you looked closely, you would see tiny silver stars flecking the irises. Few ever got that close though. She exuded an aura of danger that kept people out of arms reach. That was what first drew my eyes to her actually. Finirie’s was crowded, as it always was on a Friday night during finals week, full of students taking their minds off the upcoming exams – and much else judging by the number of empty shot glasses littering the tables. She, however, was surrounded by empty stools on either side. An island of calm in the sea of people.

Her hands were curled around her beer as she stared at the painting hanging behind the bar. It wasn’t particularly good, but she seemed fascinated. I ordered myself a cider and slid into a corner to watch.

Those days, people watching was one of my main hobbies. I wasn’t terribly social in the best of time – if I went to a party, I’d inevitably spend more time just with the host’s cat than all the humans combined. I liked the feeling of being around people though, the sense of community. So I went. And I watched.

I spent my first cider trying to figure out why she was so intimidating. Black jeans, blue halter top, black leather jacket, matching boots – a bit of a biker chick vibe, but not too far off of what some others in the bar were wearing. Silver fan earrings and a simple necklace finished it off. A good date night look really. Idly I wondered if she was waiting for someone. That would certainly be interesting.

By the time I made it halfway through my second, I thought I had figured it out. She was just too intense. Not necessarily her bearing – though that was uncommonly focused as well – but her colors. Her hair was too blue, her jacket too inky. It was like someone had turned up the saturation dial just on her and left everyone else in the room drab by comparison.

By the time I finished my cider, I had a new theory.

It was the knife hilt sticking out of her left boot.

The instant I turned eighteen, I moved six hours from home to make it on my own, convinced my guitar and a knack for making up lyrics on the spot would be enough. After more nights on the street than I would ever tell my mother about, it had sort of worked. I had played a gig at Finirie’s just last week in fact. Mind you, most of the money I made still came from flipping burgers. Just for now though. Having a flat to crash in was worth the persistent smell of french fries, at least until I got my music off the ground.

I could have gone to school like the fifty students cramming the bar, but it felt too much like giving up. Besides, living on the street for a bit was instructive. You quickly learned a lot about what places folks wouldn’t bother you, where you could get a cheap shower, which parks the cops wouldn’t notice you taking a dump in. And you learned how to identify and avoid trouble.

The woman at the bar with the knife in her boot was clearly trouble.

Unfortunately, I am also a bit of an idiot.

Especially two drinks in.

When the barkeep passed me my third, I slid onto one of the empty stools next to her.

Her eyes met mine. They were bright and curious. A faint smile tugged her lips and she nodded greeting. I nodded back but didn’t say anything. Now would be the time to drop a line, something witty and charming. Under the scrutiny of those strange eyes my thoughts fled though, and all I could do was stare.

She started the conversation after a beat, seeming more amused than off-put by my rudeness. “So, what can I do for you Mr. Rock-Star?”

I stared at her. Had she seen my set? I felt like I would have noticed her in the crowd, but it had been a packed tight that night. My self-preservation instincts finally kicked me to give a weak response, “I, well, uhm. I thought you looked interesting and wanted to say hi?”

She laughed. “I’ll say. You near about burned a hole in my jacket watching.”

My cheeks began to burn. This was not going at all how I had hoped. I scooped up my drink and gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a creep. I’ll get out of your way.” I didn’t look at her face as I hurried off into the crowd, depositing the mostly full bottle on the nearest table before scurrying out the door.

The warm spring air stank of exhaust and urine as I walked towards my flat. Finirie’s was a dive, but at least it was close to home. I could barely afford to rent, let alone the sub fare to somewhere with nicer pubs. Besides, the drinks were cheaper in my end of town. The people tended to be more interesting too, if you liked bar fights.

As I walked, I consoled myself. The bar would be closing soon anyway, it was already 10:30. It wasn’t like we would have had much time to converse. I unlocked the door to my one-room flat and sighed. Even if it had gone well, I was hardly going to bring a girl back here. It was for the better I had crashed and burned.

Still, as I stretched out on my air mattress, her face floated behind my closed eyes.

I ignored it and fell asleep.

***

At first I thought the noise was just my neighbor hammering on the walls again. I wasn’t sure what he was doing that made so much ruckus, but I knew I didn’t want to find out. The second time it came, I figured it out. A knock, on my door. I tossed the blankets to the side and pulled on last night’s pants before crossing the room to peer through the peephole.

It was her. I pinched myself. Not dreaming. If I was being more careful, I would have stopped to wonder how she got there. Pretty girls make my decisions even worse though, and instead I just wrenched open the door.

She stared me up and down and I realized belatedly that I probably should have put on a shirt too. I was too busy staring at her to be embarrassed though. Blood ran down her face from a cut on her forehead, one eye was blackened, her jacket was gone and her other clothes torn and dirty. The dagger had migrated out of her boot to her belt.

“What… what happened to you?”

She sighed. “Long story. Sorry for just showing up here. I don’t actually know anyone else in the city. I… I just moved here. Sort of. I don’t have a flat yet. Like I said, long story.”

I flicked my light on and stood to the side. “Well, it’s not much but I’ve at least got a bathroom in the back where you can clean up.”

She stepped through with a small smile. “Thanks. Just to be clear, there is no chance I’m sleeping with you. Try it, and I’ll make sure you remember. Got it?”

I nodded tiredly. “Why don’t you shower. Door locks from the inside. Actually, first.” I went to the cardboard box that served as my dresser and pulled out a clean shirt, sweat pants, and a pair of boxers. “Here. We can wash your stuff in the morning.” She took them slowly and backed to the bathroom. I heard the lock click as she shut herself in.

I peered at the clock on my stove. Three A.M. I was never a night person and even with a armed stranger in the place, I wanted nothing more than to go to bed. Instead I forced myself to move, first locking the front door again before pulling down a pot and starting some water on the boil. My mug was dirty so I gave it a quick scrub before tossing in a coffee bag and dousing it. It was a far cry from real coffee, but at least it was hot.

I set it to the side and made my bed quickly. A gentleman wouldn’t let the lady sleep on the floor, and I somehow doubted she would agree to sharing a bed platonically. I tossed a sweatshirt against the far wall for a pillow and stretched out on the floor. It was still much comfier than the streets – being warm and dry would do an astonishing amount for your enjoyment of the world. The rushing of the shower was soothing. It reminded me of sleeping under the metal roof at my parents’ house when the summer monsoons came through. Despite myself, I drifted off to sleep.

***

When I woke up, it took a moment to remember why I was on the floor. I sat up. She was still there, blankets hiding everything except one foot and the long fan of her hair. Part of me was surprised she had stayed, but then again a place to crash was what she had asked for. I got up and picked a new outfit out of my box – my last clean one, I’d have to do laundry a day early thanks to her – and hopped into the shower myself.

She was still asleep when I got out. I looked at the clock. Quarter til seven. My shift started soon and my boss had made it pointedly clear that if I was late again, I’d be looking for a new job. I glanced back at her and sighed. I didn’t have anything to leave a note with, but I left out a bowl next to a bottle of milk and the last of my cheerios. Hopefully she got the message and had some breakfast before vanishing. With one last look back, I ran to work.

The day dragged by. When I returned, she was gone. She had washed the bowl and left it to air dry in the sink, folded my clothes, and made the bed. On the counter lay a twenty and nothing else. I wasn’t surprised but I felt the loss nonetheless. Nice of her to leave me something though. I pocketed the money and picked up my guitar to sing the melancholy away.

***

It was months before I saw her again. I watched closely at the bar when I went, even asked the barkeep after her once. Nothing. Slowly I began to give up on seeing her again. Part of me wasn’t even sure why I tried – the woman was danger after all. Still, I wanted to.

And then, suddenly, I did. Not at the bar, but in an alley. The glint of her hair caught my eye. I paused. She was asleep, laying against the wall. Her arms were still bare, thinner than I remembered. Quickly I scanned the alley. No one else there. I crouched by her and set a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Hey.”

She sprang up, pushing the point of her knife against my neck. Fear raced across her face, followed a beat later by recognition. She let the knife fall and asked with confusion, “What are you doing here?”

I shrugged. “I’d ask the same of you. You alright?”

She nodded sharply. “Yes. Just fine.”

I arced an eyebrow. She looked like she hadn’t eaten enough in weeks. I would not have been surprised if she hadn’t showered since we last met. Her eyes locked with mine, flinty and determined as she stared me down. I shrugged again and looked away, willing to try a different tact for the sake of her pride. “Glad to hear it. I’ve been looking for you, you know. The way I see it, you owe me a story after last time. I had to run to work before I got it, so why don’t we grab a bite and you can tell me what’s up?”

Her eyes were suspicious but the lure of food was enough to overcome any hesitance. She nodded. I stood and offered her a hand up. She ignored it.

The burger joint I worked at was just down the street. It was hardly health food, but it was cheap and plentiful. I myself used the employee discount probably more than I should. I had her wait outside and got us a large bag of goodies.

“My place or the park?”

She hesitated and then muttered quietly, “Park.”

I nodded and led us there, picking a bench to spread out our feast on. “Dig in.”

For a while we ate in silence. I chewed slowly while food vanished under her fingers. I had bought far more than twice what I would get for myself. True to my expectation, there were no leftovers.

When she finished, she launched immediately into a question, “Do you know what happens when you stay out past midnight?”

It was an odd thing to start the conversation with. I shrugged. “Nothing I would expect. The stories don’t make much logical sense. But, I can’t say I’ve stayed up that late myself.”

“They’re true. You split. You suddenly are looking back at yourself, only it isn’t really yourself. A different version of you, subtly.” She picked a few crumbs off the wrapper, giving me a chance to say something. I didn’t. She continued, “And at the end of the night, only one of you can stay. It’s supposed to be the… well, the normal one. The one that started the night. But, the ones from. Wherever we come from. Well, we’re stronger. And sometimes we win.”

She looked up at me. To my surprise, tears glittered in the corners of her eyes. “I replaced her. I’m not supposed to be here. Everyone knows I don’t belong. They chased me from my home. People I – she? – people I have memories of as my friends, hating me now. Because I killed their friend. I…”

She dropped her head to stare at the bench, jostling a few tears to splash down onto it. I set a hand on her shoulder. At that point, I wasn’t sure if she was crazy or not. All I knew was the obvious – she was exhausted, filthy, and half starved. That at least was something I could help with. “Hey. Come on, first thing’s first. Let’s go back to my flat and get you cleaned up. Promise I won’t try anything; your knife is damn sharp.”

I said the last as a joke and to my relief she laughed before agreeing, “Okay.”

***

A few hours later she was asleep on my bed, again. She slept with the knife cradled close to her chest like a teddy bear. I wondered idly how long she had carried it, and how many times she had cut herself in her sleep before learning to keep it clear of her skin. A sheath would be smarter, or just leaving it close by on the floor.

I wasn’t about to say so though.

I leaned forward to glance at the clock and then let my back fall against the wall again. It was eleven. Normally I would be going to bed right now. I certainly felt tired enough. But, well. I wanted to know the truth. She was probably crazy, just some girl with a love of loud colors and not much left in her head. Nothing would happen if I met the new day. It wasn’t much of a risk.

I was still nervous of course, maybe even scared. So many had warned me against it. Parents – to keep the kids in line – national curfew – to curb protests against a corrupt government – even friends.

I would do it anyway though.

Decided, I got up and made a coffee to help keep myself awake and alert until midnight.

***

At first I thought nothing had happened. Then I saw him, standing in the shadow by the door. Our eyes met, his as wide and surprised as my own. He hesitantly walked the few steps over and crouched in front of me. It was like looking in a mirror, but a mirror with a bad sense of color. His hair was a dusty orange, eyes tinted to match. His clothes looked like they were from one of those silly fashion shows; all the angles sewn too sharp and the colors wild and outlandish. His face was my own though, with expression to match. We stared.

I shook myself free first, speaking quietly so as not to wake her, “Hi. You uh. You want a cup of coffee?”

Relief flashed across his face and he nodded. “Yeah. Please.”

I got up and dumped my mug, taking my time washing it and boiling up some more water so I could think.

The stories were right. How? No, that wasn’t the right question for now. He was here, the question to ask was what to do about it. I glanced back at him. He was sitting cross-legged on my makeshift bed, at the far end from where I had been. His eyes were unfocused. Lost in thought. Probably asking the same questions I was. Maybe we could talk it out? After all, he was… well, me.

I brought back the mug and set it next to him before sitting on my side of the bed. He took it with a strained smile. “Thanks.” I nodded. We sat in silence, both trying not to stare at the other too much.

Finally I asked, “So. Where do you… come from?”

He frowned and thought a moment before answering. “Well, I am not sure. I remember… here. All of it. Childhood, moving out, her, deciding to see what happened. But… I think it’s pretty clear you’re the one who belongs here.”

He said the last without malice but still I winced. He gave me a sympathetic smile. Of course he knew what I would be thinking. Messing with another sentient being – another me – was not in the plan. Neither of us had expected it to work. I sighed. “I guess if you have my memories, you don’t actually know any more than I do huh.”

“I’m afraid not. I didn’t expect this to work.” I laughed and he joined briefly before continuing, “That said… I’m not going to fight you to stay or anything. It wouldn’t be right.”

My smile fled and I nodded grim assent. “I don’t know how you get back. I guess we’ll find out together.”

He nodded back.

A thought struck me and I added, “We could do an experiment though. Want me to try again tomorrow night?”

“Hm an interesting idea. Sure. I wonder if I remember this conversation from your perspective or mine.”

I smiled. He mirrored me. Both of us yawned.

“The downside of course is that we have to stay up until something happens to know… Well. What happens,” I remarked ruefully. “Want to play cards?”

He nodded and I pulled a deck out of my backpack. I didn’t have to ask what games he knew, or even which he wanted to play. Instead I just dealt and we got on with it.

The night dragged on. Our yawns grew more frequent but we pushed each other onward. Finally, as the first sun peeked through the windows, he vanished.

There were no sound effects, no splash of sparkles like movies had led me to subconsciously expect. Just there one minute, gone the next. His cards drifted slowly down onto the blanket. An ace of spades and a couple face cards. Good timing; he would have won the next hand.

I looked up to the clock and groaned. Work started in a hour. My mind was raw from lack of sleep but I suspected if I tried to nap, I would doze right through my alarm. Instead I made yet another cup of coffee and drank it slowly as I tried to get my thoughts in order. It hardly worked. Sleep deprivation isn’t known for helping one deal with world-view changing events. For now I gave up. I could think later.

I finished my tea and pulled out the small notebook I had bought after the last time she visited. Gone to work, be back at four. I set it by her bed and then I left, heading into what would undoubtedly be a long day.

***

She was still there when I slouched exhausted back through the door. I had honestly expected her to vanish again. The food I had brought home for supper wouldn’t be enough for both of us. For now I tossed her the bag and made myself a coffee instead. I could go back out later.

A hamburger and half the fries had vanished by the time I brought my mug over and sat on the other end of the air mattress. Her eyes followed me suspiciously but she did not slow her eating by grabbing for the knife laying on the bed next to her. I sipped my coffee and waited for her to finish.

She gulped down the last of the fries and muttered quietly, “Thank you. I feel much better than last night.”

I grinned. “Yeah I bet. Food, a shower, and a good place to sleep will do that to you. I’ve been there; I remember.”

She smiled back tiredly. “Yes, it is nice. I uh. I suppose we should talk?”

I wanted nothing more. All day my mind had swirled with questions I could ask to compare our experience – though I had not yet decided if I would tell her about mine quite yet. Still, I restrained my enthusiasm. She looked exhausted, and scared. Now wasn’t the time. Instead of starting on my list, I just shrugged, “If you want to. We could start with something easy though – what’s your name?”

“Lily. Or Lily Number Two?”

It was a weak joke, but I smiled encouragingly anyway and answered, “Let’s go with Lily. The other is a bit of a mouthful. I’m Jason.”

She smiled back weakly and fell silent. I let her and slowly worked my way through the coffee. My own mind was worn out enough anyway. Lily still hadn’t spoken by the time I reached the dredges in the bottom of my mug. I got up and set it on the counter before stretching out on my makeshift bed.

“If you don’t mind, I am going to take a nap. It’s been a long day. Some idiot broke the ice cream machine at work again.” I rolled my eyes and heaved a dramatic sigh, but my theatrics didn’t even make her smile. She simply nodded, eyes unfocused and unseeing. There was nothing I could do to help until she was ready to talk, so I let myself slip gratefully into sleep.

***

I woke with a start to a touch on my shoulder. Lily was crouched next to me, eyes wide and watery. The clock said eleven. I sat up slowly in case she had the knife ready and whispered, “What’s wrong?”

“I need to go home.”

I nodded and fumbled in the pocket of my jeans for some cash to offer her. “Here. It isn’t going to get you very far, but it’ll be enough for a bus ticket maybe, or at least some food for the road.”

She shook her head and closed my fingers over the bills. “No, I mean. Back where I came from. I’m only here because… Well, I shouldn’t be here. So… I want to try again. Maybe if I stay up, she’ll come back? And we can fix this.”

Tears were wobbling at the corners of her eyes but they didn’t fall. A gentleman would have had a handkerchief to offer her – my dad certainly would have said as much – but unfortunately I was a poor gentleman. Instead I offered, “I’ll stay up with you.”

She shook her head vehemently. “No! I can’t let you get stuck like I did.”

I cursed myself for not telling her earlier. Now was not the best time, but I was hardly going to get another one. “I will be fine. I… I stayed up last night and met mine. He is pretty much just like me. We just played cards all night. We were actually planning on meeting again tonight, to test some things.”

She stared at me. Finally she said flatly, “You’re an idiot.”

I grinned weakly. “Well, yes. But being an idiot got me to help you despite the ten foot flashing neon danger signs. So… it has its upsides?”

She stared at me for a moment longer and then laughed. Stress and relief warred across her face as she clutched her sides and just lost if for a few minutes. I couldn’t help but smiling as I watched. Finally she gathered herself and agreed, “Alright, fine. We stay up together.”

“Good. Make yourself comfy, I’ll get you a coffee.”

We didn’t talk, but the time still passed quickly. She settled to sit down next to me and offered to share her drink. We drained it slowly from opposite sides of the mug. It had been a while since I had gotten to enjoy this quiet companionship, the peace of being with someone yet not needing to talk or do anything in particular. I think she felt the same. When the clock clicked onto midnight, I was almost sad our wait was over.

My clone appeared where he had before. He looked the same as last time, though the surprise was gone and replaced with a serious expression instead.

Hers didn’t show.

For a moment the three of us stood still. I opened my mouth to greet my clone but was cut off when she suddenly let out a furious scream. She was already halfway across the room by the time we realized she was moving. My clone figured it out before I did, or maybe he just had a better angle to see the knife in her hand. He tried to sidestep but she was faster.

His quiet gasp of pain seemed louder even than her shriek. His eyes glazed as he opened his mouth to speak. No words came out. As quietly as he had the previous night, he vanished.

The knife clattered to the floor, blade perfectly clean and shining faintly under the bare bulb hanging from my ceiling. She fell to her knees as well. Tears started running down her cheeks, then pouring in a waterfall as she began to sob. I just stared, too in shock to do anything more. Her voice was just barely audible as she whispered, almost more to herself than me, “I’m sorry. I had to. I killed her, he would have done the same to you. It was him or us. I had to.”

The numbness that had seized hold of me shattered. My voice jittered with anger, and fear, as I said, “You meant you literally killed her. I just- I thought you just changed places. You. You’re a murderer. Twice. You killed me.”

She struggled to her feet, shaking her head, “No, you don’t understand. He had to-”
I cut across her, “He wasn’t you! He was me. He was a chill bro. We played cards for gods sake, that isn’t something you do with- you know, maybe it is for you. You’re right, I don’t understand. Just-” I broke off, staring at the knife on the floor. Just what? I couldn’t do anything to help him, or to stop her. There wasn’t a body to show the cops, or even any blood. Exhaustion welled up in my mind and I continued dully, “Just leave. Okay? Just go.”

She didn’t look surprised, or hurt. Steel had descended into her eyes and her backbone. With a curt nod, she walked out the door. The knife stayed on the floor. I didn’t pick it up.

***

I stayed up again the next night of course, but my clone didn’t show.

At least now I knew the truth. When you stay up until midnight, nothing happens.

At least not anymore.

Not for me.