Turns out, getting rid of demons is apparently not so simple. Even that depended on the kind of demon you were dealing with. Who knew there were such a variety. How was I supposed to know which one was haunting me? Unfortunately, most of my research simply pointed me back into the direction of a psychiatrist. There were a few web pages for exorcists, but my gut feeling told me they had to be scammers. Wanting thousands of dollars for spells and potions to cleanse a house. It wasn't even the house that needed cleansing. Who knew how much they would charge to cleanse an individual.

The demon in question must have known I was figuring him— or them— out. I could hear them talking far more often throughout the day. And they seemed more agitated rather than casual in their mumbled speech. Were they planning to stop me somehow? I chewed the skin around my nails while I leaned against the wall, trying to hear them. If only I could hear what they were saying. This was their form of torment. Sounding so close, yet so far.

That night at dinner, I looked my family over. Their faces of that I didn't recognize. I had to wonder now if it was a demon making me see things or if they were actually the ones possessed by demons themselves, and I could see through them. Maybe the exorcisim had to be performed on them instead of me.

"What are you talking about?" My husband asked me, looking confused.

"What?" I came out of my thoughts to focus on him now.

"You." He nodded at me, "What are you mumbling about? You're not making any sense."

"What?" I repeated, a tad more confused, "I didn't say anything?" At least, I didn't think I had done anything.
Had I been saying my thoughts out loud without realizing it?

"You're rambling nonsense." He insisted.

I hadn't been speaking out loud. I thought. Could I have been? How could I have done so without realizing it? That didn't make sense. Unless? Could he read my mind? Maybe he heard bits and pieces of what I was thinking. Could demons read minds? I stared at this imposter hard. I was scared for a moment. Too scared to think of anything in case he heard me.

"Earth to Kim. Are you in there?" He waved his hand before my eyes. Bold of him to take this angle that I was the one that needed summoning. As if he wasn't hiding my husband somewhere. If only I could bring my husband back to the surface.

I gently pushed his hand from in front of me, "Yes. I'm here. Are you?" I shouldn't have asked. I couldn't help but feel a little bitter.

Of course, he didn't understand my meaning, "I'm not the one who is zoned out. You looked like you were in some kind of trance."

"I'm fine." I smiled at the imposter, then smiled at my children. After dinner and showers, I went to read to the children. That night, I chose one particular book with purpose. The Bible. From what I read online, reading the Bible was a good method to repel demons. Granted, my children didn't like it. Maybe because there weren't any pictures. Or. Maybe. It was because the demons hated to hear the true word of God.

"It's boring." My son had complained.

"I don't like it." My toddler said her famous phrase when any kind of food was set in front of her.

My husband was not necessarily a religious person. While he believed there was a God, you wouldn't catch him at a church for any amount of money. He always claimed to be against "organized religion." Which is to say he also wasn't too pleased with my book choice for the children either. "They're too young to understand that, Kim." He protested. My baby fussed the least of my family. But for my efforts, it seemed to work. Everyone was themselves again.

"Still hearing voices?" Catherine asked her same question ever so diligently during my next session.

More than before. But there was no way I was going to tell her that. She was a kind woman and I enjoyed our time together. Usually. But I felt this new bubbling mistrust within me for her. Something told me that even my own therapist couldn't be trusted. She would only insist I take my medication. All while I felt the medication numbed me more than anything. It didn't shield me from my stalker. Only shielded them from my perception. As if the medication dulled my senses. Rather, that sixth sense to detect the biggest flaws around me.

"No more than usual." I shrugged. I instantly felt bad for lying. Was I sabotaging my progress? I could have laughed at that thought. What progress? There wasn't any getting better. Only hoping that you don't get worse.

"And do they ever tell you to harm anyone or yourself?" Safety check.

At least I didn't have to lie about this, "No."

"Last week, you told me you suspected that there may be a demonic presence around you. Do you still feel that way?"

I wasn't sure if I should be honest or not. I usually felt comfortable and safe within her four walls. Why was I suddenly on edge? Something in my gut just told me something was wrong. All of this was wrong. "I just feel like there's something off." I told her instead.

"What feels off today? Can you tell what makes you feel that way?"

"No." I pressed my lips into a frown.

"Does it feel unsafe?"

This time, I answered before I could really mull it over, "Yes." She only waited in silence. I knew that meant she wanted me to elaborate. "I feel like..." I tried to think of how best to explain it. I lost my words. It just seemed too hopeless to delve into. What was the point of any of this?

"Tell me how you feel." She encouraged me further.

"Hopeless." Was all I could think of in the moment to describe my feelings. "All of this. Everything. I'm alone."

She nodded, "Tell me about that."

What was there really to tell? "I'm alone." I shrugged. "I'm completely, totally, utterly alone. There isn't a single soul on this planet that I can truly connect with. No one can understand me. My children are too young. Not that I would want them to be troubled by me anyway. I haven't got any friends. As if anyone would wish to be friends with me. My own husband, who is supposed to be my soul mate, thinks I'm a liar."

"He called you a liar?" She looked concerned now.

"Well, not directly. But he very obviously insinuated it. Saying I'm lazy and talking nonsense."

"Talking nonsense?" She questioned, "When you talk to yourself?"

I looked at her strangely, "What?"

"When you talk to yourself." She said this so commonly as if I should be familiar, "Sometimes you speak to yourself. You've done it here. Maybe you do it at home, too. It's not clear what you say. I can't get you to make sense of it. I just allow you to finish."

Talking to myself? What? When? Me? Never. I mean, sure, I had my own thoughts in my head, but I wouldn't talk out loud to myself. "What are things that I say?"

"Oh, it's a bit of a jumbled string of words. Nothing necessarily too coherent." She said, "But there are times you talk about the demons or seeing the other side. Does this make sense to you now?"

Seeing the other side. Demons. "There are two of me." I recalled suddenly, "That's what the voice told me before. It said there were two of me. What could that mean?"

"What does it mean to you?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't have to be here." I shrugged, "You're the professional here."

She laughed some at this, "I wish I had the answer to everything. I'd be the best in my field."

Meanwhile, the question still nagged at me. Two of me. It had to be the me that spoke to herself. I never knew I did that. It had to be her. What if...? This other side. This other me. What if that was the demon. The demon that was my stalker. The one I always felt was watching. What if the stalker I couldn't get rid of because this whole time...  was me.