Page 57 of Devil Inside

Sara? That you?

It’s such a silly thought, Cara can’t help but laugh—inside—to herself. She hasn’t had a conversation with her imaginary friend for... what? Years? Well over a decade by now.

She’d completely forgotten all about her.Sara.Her good ol’ imaginary pal.

It couldn’t be.

Could it?

What’s she doing back now? What does she want with Cara? It seems so silly, when Cara thinks about it, but... who else could it be, calling her? Imagine that. How funny it’d—

Let me in...

Cara gasps. The book slips out from her lap and falls to the floor.

The voice sounds deeper now. Far more resonant.

Growing.

There’s no mistaking it. There is a palpable presence. A voice. Someone else is here. In the room. With Cara. But she can’t see them, wherever—whoever—they are.

Cara can’t help but panic. Her heartbeat picks up. She’s having difficulty breathing.

“What do you want?”

What did Sara ever really want? Did she ever ask for anythingfrom Cara? Sara, her fucking imaginary friend. Sara, in her head. Does that make it any less frightening for Cara, thinking that her make-believe pal has come back, after all these years, picking up the loose end of their friendship with the ease of picking up the phone and reaching out? Touching someone?

Reconnecting?

What’s the alternative? That Cara is hearing voices? That she’s losing it? Her job is stressful, yes, but not enough to fracture her personality. She’s lonely here in Richmond, yeah, for sure, but it hasn’t pushed her to the edge of desperation. She’s not goingcrazy. She’s not losing her mind. This is not that type of movie. This is her life, not some gothic—

Let me in.

Cara slips off the couch and drops to the floor. She lands on her back, on her book, in that gap between the couch and the coffee table, a carpeted canyon that pinches her shoulders closer to her chest. She crab walks out from the chasm until her back meets the wall. She doesn’t want anything behind her. She wants to take in the living room in its entirety. She wants—needs—to see everything... because that’s just it. That’s the problem.

There’s nothing to see. No one is here. It’s just her and...

Sara.Her ol’ pal. Just like old times, checking in, seeing how you are, what you’ve been up to. There are worse things, aren’t there? Sara always had a plan. Sara always knew what to do. Maybe Sara is what Cara’s been missing all these years. Someone to take over. Someone who gets shit done. Finally, Cara could finish her screenplay. Finally, Cara could make her film. Finally,finally, people would pay attention to Cara because Sara was in charge and everyone loves Sara, fun Sara, living on the edge Sara, the spotlight always finds her, shining so bright, and isn’t that what Cara wants more than anything? To bask in Sara’s glow? To feel the heat of celebrity? Of stardom? She could do anything, be anything. A star.

“Yes.”

It’s a relief, letting go. All the worry. The self-doubt. Sara chews it all up. Swallows with a smile. No more pain, no more loneliness. All Cara has to do is simply...

Let me in.

It feels cold at first. Like water poured over her head. It rushes down her back, her spine, the water filling her up from the inside out, a sudden jolt of cold that sends a vivid shiver across her skin, goose bumps rippling over her flesh, but the rush suddenly goes deeper, filling in every crevasse, almost all at once, a flood now, an overwhelming deluge, drowning now, Cara feels like she’s drowning, she can’t breathe, there’s no air down here—

Cara’s body freezes. Her bones seize. Her lungs lock.

Her jaw suspends itself, slung open. Her eyes roll up into the safety of her sockets, her skull, a snail easing back into its shell, hiding, leaving behind nothing but white, the veins laced within.

Sara’s come back, out of the blue, out from the abyss that is Cara’s endless imagination.

Sara wants to hang. Make up for lost time. Walk the bloody red carpet.

Cara is now Sara. Or, at least, that’s the last thought that goes through Cara’s mind...

Sara’s all grown up now. She’s no longer twelve. Her tastes have matured. Sharpened themselves. She wants to go out. Get a taste for this city’s nightlife.