What do you do when you wake up every single morning with the realization that someone else is living your life?

Do you get up and go through the motions - feigning happiness at things you should be happy about, feigning sadness at things you should be sad about? What about when you watch from the outside as a new experience happens to you, only you don't get to experience it? You can only sit and see the pieces fall into places - whether graceful feathers drifting down from the sky to form a delicate coat, or shards of shattered glass raining down & leaving bloody destruction in its place.

I have been living this life for the past seven years. Or, well - some might call it living, but I would call it observing. And while I observed, one question always lingered at the back of my mind. Was someone observing me live their moments?

I got to watch my life unfold from the outside from the time I turned 19.


NINETEEN.

It was a cold December morning when I woke up with a pounding headache. I had a final at 11am - and stupidly, I had let my friends convince me to celebrate my 19th year the night before. Everyone was heading home from college for winter break this evening. After the exam, most of the students would have gone. Those of us remaining were planning to hit the campus pub until it was our turn to leave.

I got up, showered quickly & managed to pull my hair back into a damp, frazzled ponytail. I grabbed a bagel, my notes (for a quick pre-final glance) and ran out the door, sure that I would be late. I got to the door four minutes before the professor let us in, and instead of socializing, I scanned my notes over & over, trying desperately to retain even one bit more. Once he opened the door, I took my usual seat next to my best friend, and waited anxiously for him to hand out the papers.

"How you feeling this morning?" Paul asked me, in a whisper, a smirk spread across his face.

"I am never going out before an exam again. I hate you for convincing me," I hissed at him.

"Hey, it was a good birthday, you said so many times last night!"

I rolled my eyes at him as the professor dropped the exam on my desk with a stern look. As soon as everyone had their papers, the professor declared that we could turn them over, and I began feverishly answering questions. We had two hours.

Within an hour and five minutes, I slung my backpack over my shoulder, raised an eyebrow at Paul & dropped my exam off in front of my professor.

“It’s been a pleasure, Ms. Mattingly,” he said as I placed the exam face down.

Not when you see how badly I bombed this exam, I thought to myself. I smiled at him and left the room, finally happy to exhale. I wasted no time in getting myself a coffee, and settling at a table to wait for Paul.

I knew he’d be done soon, and we’d head over to the pub with the rest of the early finishers. I couldn’t bear sitting there any longer, knowing that I had only wrong answers left to put on the paper.

Within ten minutes, Paul sauntered out of the classroom, dropping into the seat across from me. “Well, I owned that exam,” he said, another smirk plastered on his face.

“You’re buying me a drink,” I said, standing up & tugging at his arm.

“Why? Not like it’s your birthday!” He gave me a big grin. When we got to the pub, we found a few classmates. The others rolled in slowly but surely. 

We stayed at the campus pub for a long while, downing pint after pint, people slowly filtering out until Paul & I were the only two remaining, along with a friend of Paul’s roommate (who had disappeared long ago).

“Well,” he said, wagging an eyebrow at me suggestively. “Should we get out of here?”

I was tipsy at this point – very tipsy and I stifled a laugh. Paul was my best friend, but there was no way that was ever going to happen.

“I have a flight to catch, sir. So I will be getting a taxi & heading to the airport.”

“We could hang out,” the timid friend of Paul’s roommate said. I had met her several times before but I couldn’t quite place her name at this moment, most likely from the number of beverages I had enjoyed throughout the afternoon. I stood up and winked at Paul.

“Have a great break, Paul… I’ll call you when I’m back! Give your parents a hug for me.”  

I remembered the cold that day… and I remember clearly what happened, up until the moment I didn’t remember anymore.

TWENTY-TWO.

In the autumn, I found myself sitting alone, in a strange building. It was a tall apartment building in the city. I was waiting for someone, but I couldn’t seem to recall exactly for whom I waited. Nonetheless, I sat patiently for a while, until he emerged.

He exited the elevator, and checked his watch. When I saw him, I knew it was him I had been awaiting. I stood up from my seat, and he turned to me. A vapid stare in my direction, and he crossed the floor towards a pretty girl, not much shorter than himself. She was pretty – and I recognized her from that day three years ago. He kissed her gently on the cheek.

“Are you ready?” he asked, intertwining their fingers. He glanced at me again, without so much as a hint of recognition on his face.

She nodded at him, her big blue eyes blinking in my direction. But she wasn’t looking at me.

I sat back down in my seat, confused. They joined hands & walked out the door. If he wasn’t who I was waiting for here, then who? I pondered silently.

“Ma’am, is there something I can help you with?” the concierge at the front desk glanced at me sympathetically. He must have seen the bewilderment on my face.

“Um,” I stammered. “Was that Paul Lockwood?” I raised an arm in the direction in which the two had just left.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am – I’m new here… I’m not entirely familiar with all of the residents just yet. Did you want to leave him a message or something?”

“No, no it’s alright. I think I may be in the wrong building,” I mumbled, and smiled apologetically as I crossed the floor towards the door.

The air outside was biting – the same way it had been that December day when I was 19. But it was October, I was 22… and I was confused.

I wanted to go home – and I knew where home was. My feet took me there without issue. I pulled keys out of my pocket, and I climbed two flights of stairs to the door I knew, and I entered without issue. I removed my coat, hung it up & put away my mittens.

I went into the kitchen, pulled out a teapot to boil water. I made tea, and settled into the livingroom. This was where I lived. But where had I just been, and why had I just been there?

TWENTY-SIX.

I turned 26 just four days ago. I was currently progressing on 7 years & 3 days of this nightmare. I was nowhere near figuring it out for myself, and it had begun to wear on me. Not just on me, but on those who called themselves my family, on those who called themselves my friends. Those all around me, who had been wondering for the last seven years where on earth my mind had been all this time – and whether or not it would return to me.  

 

2: Two.

TWENTY-SIX.
 

My alarm went off at 8AM. I pressed snooze, and then pressed it again when the familiar sound echoed through my room. Three more snoozes and 45 minutes later, I finally got myself out of bed and into the shower.

 

The mornings were hardest. I had never, ever been a morning person. It had always been nearly impossible to get me out of bed and to school or work on time even before all of this began. Now I needed extra time in the morning to process.

 

It was always the same. I woke up groggy… and by about two minutes into my hot shower things would slowly start drifting back to me. It always began with hazy memories of moments that I shouldn’t be able to remember. Some common ones were my parents’ divorce when I was six, my thirteenth birthday party (the first one I invited boys to), my high school graduation, my mom’s hospitalization with breast cancer when I was seventeen, my first kiss and a few fleeting memories of my taxi ride to the airport that December day.

 

When the memories crashed over me, for a moment, they felt real. Well, they were real… but they felt like they belonged. But then, I would remember where I was. I would remember who I was expected to be, what I was expected to do. And then I would cry.

 

I had worked this down to a three-minute morning routine, but that didn’t lessen the pain of it. When the wave hit me, I gave in – fighting just took additional time, and I inevitably lost. I washed my hair with my tears mixing with the water. I scrubbed my face in an attempt to stop them. I conditioned, and they slowed as I did. Finally, I turned the water to cool before turning it off and held my face under it just long enough to reduce the puffiness in my eyes. Then, I took a deep breath and stepped out of the shower to get on with my present day existence.

 

After wrapping a robe around myself, I went into the kitchen where Jeff usually had breakfast waiting for me. He smiled, handed me a cup of coffee and planted a kiss on my cheek when I walked in.

 

“Good morning – how was your sleep?” he asked.

 

Jeff was the opposite of myself in that mornings were his favourite time of day. He usually got up early, went for a run, showered & made breakfast all before I was able to stir from under the comforter.

 

“The usual,” I said, calmly, taking the plate of scrambled eggs and toast that he passed me along with a fork.

 

He was reading the news on his tablet and I just ate quietly. He knew I hated talking in the morning, so apart from always asking how I had slept, he didn’t talk to me unless he had to. After I finished eating, I went back to the bedroom to finish getting ready.

 

I heard Jeff call out a farewell as he left – likely to meet a client as he worked primarily from our home. Once I finished getting ready, I went to the kitchen and collected the lunch Jeff had left on the counter, before heading out the door to catch the train to the office.

 

December was always cold in Toronto, but luckily we hadn’t had any snow as of yet. It was Christmas in just six days, and the city was still bustling. I was very much looking forward to Saturday – the day most people would leave the city to be with their friends & family for the holidays, and I would be left here with a calmer pace, and quiet company.

 

Just as I dropped my bag on the floor of my office and took my coat off, my coworker poked her head in.

 

“She’s on a tear today,” she whispered, notching her head in the direction of my boss’ office. “Just wanted to give you a heads up.”

 

“Thanks,” I sighed, collapsing into the flimsy office chair. “Want to get lunch later? I can already tell I’ll need a break.”

 

“Absolutely,” she replied, giving me a smile and a wink before retreating to her own office.

 

I contemplated closing the door… my boss was less likely to come barging in if she thought I was on a conference call. Sometimes, though, it had the opposite effect and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with her extra pissy mood if today it did. As much as my life was upside-down (and backwards, and sideways, and twisted…), I still had to deal with her on a day-to-day basis for the foreseeable future.

 

I turned on my computer and dialed into my voicemail to check the messages. One was from a client whose call I needed to return (I had been dodging him, if I’m being honest), and the other was from Dr. Mason. I scribbled down her number and picked up the phone to call her back, because if I didn’t do it now, I never would.

 

“Hello, you’ve reached the confidential voicemail of Dr. Caroline Mason at the Toronto College of Psychiatry. Please leave your name & number after the tone, and I will return your call at my earliest convenience. If you’re calling to schedule an appointment, please reach my receptionist Amanda at…”

 

I hung up the phone before the beep and sighed. Well, at least I had tried to call her back.

 

After opening & scanning my email for a few minutes, firing off a few quick replies and jotting down some to-dos, I wasn’t surprised when an IM popped up on my screen.

 

Angelica: What time did you get here today?

Hollis: At ten.

Angelica: I see.

Hollis: Why?

Angelica: Andrew was around at 9:45, wondering where you were.

Hollis: I start work at 10 every day. As far as I know, Andrew is aware of that.

Angelica: Yes, I suppose he is.

Hollis: Ok.

Angelica: Can you come in early next week?

Hollis: Why?

Angelica: I need to schedule some meetings.

Hollis: It would depend on the day but likely not unless absolutely necessary.

Angelica: I’d prefer you worked nine to five.

Hollis: Yes, you’ve mentioned that before. Unfortunately we’ve also discussed how it’s not feasible, and the hours were a condition of my job acceptance.

 

I rested my forehead in my hands, propping my elbows on the desk in front of me and closing my eyes. I could feel the familiar strain starting to grow over my right eye. I focused on breathing in and out… in and out… constant, steady breaths through my nose. Glancing at the clock I was relieved to see that it was already 10:35. Thirty-five minutes down, and only 445 to go.

 

“Feeling alright?” The deep voice stirred me from my attempt at silence. I looked up to see Logan leaning against my doorway.

“Just another migraine coming on,” I said, quietly, squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to rid it from my brain before swiveling in my chair to face him.

“Would it have anything to do with your neighbor being in a mood?” he asked, setting down a report on my desk as I nodded in reply. “Here, this is finished – it’s the testing plan for the next deployment.”

 

“Thanks Logan, I appreciate you taking care of it for me.”

 

“Hollis, if you’re really feeling that bad why don’t you head home?” He looked at me, mild concern in his eyes.

 

“I can’t – I’ve got too much going on here. Plus, Jeff works from home so it’s not exactly like I’d be there in silence. Sometimes you just gotta power through!” I tried to give him a reassuring smile but I had obviously failed.

 

“Okay,” he said, his eyebrows nearly touching as they furrowed. “But make sure you take care of yourself, okay?”

 

“I will,” I promised as he left with a nod. Or I lied.

 

I took a few minutes to look over the report he had deposited, thanking him silently for delivering on something with at least a sprinkling of quality – which was not typical for this environment.

 

The migraine did not improve, and the throbbing took on a life of its own. So, I started my usual routine. Dimmed my computer screen… shut off the overhead lights. Turned off any & all ringers, anything that made excess noise. Unfortunately for me, I couldn’t just shut off the steady hum of the heating vents, or the dull drone of conversations happening in offices around me. But I did what I had to do, spun my chair to the blank wall & closed my eyes.

 

EIGHTEEN.

 

“I’m just saying, that test was so easy, we could have gone out last night instead of studying,” Paul said to me as he walked precariously over the icy sidewalk.

 

“Okay Paul – I get it. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. I, for one, needed to study, alright? Let it go.”

 

“Are we still on for tonight?” he eyed me closely. “You had better not bail on me.”

 

“Yes, we are on for tonight. I need to go home and take a nap, but then I’ll come over.”

 

“Kay. I tried to see if Bryce or Tom wanted to stick around to watch the hockey game, but I think they’re both working tonight.”

 

“Great – you know how much I love hockey,” I droned sarcastically in response. I was actually a bit disappointed that they wouldn’t be there – they were nice guys that I loved hanging out with, especially once I had removed the first thing Tom ever said to me from my mind.  

 

“Why are you even coming then?” he asked, throwing his arms up melodramatically.

 

“Because! I like beer, and I like pizza. Plus, I haven’t found any better options,” I smirked at him. I liked that when he got home, he’d contemplate whether I was being serious or not, and probably text me four or five times to confirm that I was, in fact, going to show up. “Is Erin going to come over?”

 

Erin was Paul’s girlfriend of over two years. They had known each other from their hometown, and now both lived here to go to school. I had met her several times, but I had a suspicious feeling that she wasn’t a fan of my friendship with Paul.

 

“Eh, no. Probably not,” he mumbled, clearly not wanting to discuss it.

 

“Why not?” I prodded. I had nothing against the girl whatsoever. I didn’t understand how she and Paul had any semblance of a relationship because she seemed boring to me, but hey, if it worked for him…

 

“I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it. I see the bus coming. I’ll see you in a few hours, okay?”

When he saw my nod, he looked both ways before bounding across the street to his bus stop. I could see mine coming closer, too as I took my headphones out of my pocket and jammed them into the iPod before tucking them into my ears.