Jennifer built her life on structure and routine. It was the glue to her overall jumbled and chaotic life. Between her boys, husband, work, and her sister’s crazy circumstances there was not enough time for her to breathe let alone do something she wanted to do. And for no particular reason, objective, or end goal. Simply for the pure pleasure of doing what she, Jennifer Sloan, wanted to do for herself and no one else. How she longed for peace and quite, a breath of fresh air and a nice cup of tea. No boys to clean up after, no husband telling her what she did wrong, no more projects she was backed up to her ears in paperwork with, and no daily phone calls from the hospital about how her sister can’t function without her Jenny-bear.

Well, that last one there was the kicker. Her poor sister. Jenny and Betty, always connected at the hip and there for each other. And then Jenny got married to Sean, while Patrick delivered a set of cold divorce papers on the arms of a young mistress. She tried to be there for Betty, she really did, but the boys were already on their way and Betty had jumped head first off the cliff. The cliff of -- Beep, beep! Blasted out of her thoughts, Jenny scrambled for the telephone over her now cold cup of coffee.

“Hello?” She replied curtly into the receiver. It was slightly sprinkling outside, a steady tapping against the bushes outside of her kitchen window.

“This is Dr. Barre at Holy Trinity Hospital. Is there a Jennifer Sloan available? This phone call is in regards to a patient of relation to Mrs. Sloan.”

“Yes, this is she. Is everything alright?” Jenny felt a knot begin to form in the pit of her stomach, her morning oatmeal tasting sour at the thought of returning to the hospital. She absolutely despised it. The shiny linoleum floor squeaking under white nurse shoes, the stench of too much cleaner and pale blue garments flashing before her eyes. But Jenny knew. The hospital only called if Jenny was severely needed.

The hospital conducted visiting hours between one and four o’clock in the afternoon. Jenny, a frequent visitor, was able to slip into the hospital at 4:30 p.m. and get away with it. Flowers, chocolate, and the latest home style magazines jammed into her purse, Jenny approached the steeple of the hospital. An old church renovated into a mental institution folded into the rolling Carolina hills would not seem too unsettling, but to Jenny the spiked towers oozed this disturbing feeling of paranoia. Her heart seized her chest, and Jenny stiffly cracked open the church doors into a barren lobby. Simone, an elderly lady with a mole for a nose, simply nodded towards the left staircase leading out of the lobby. Dr. Barre would join her at the end of that long hall to sit in a room with Betty to discuss better avenues of helping her sick sister.

These big wooden doors connected the lobby to the first ward with a hallway in between that showcased portraits and pictures of the hospitals community from over the fifty years. Dusty and gray in their outdated manner, it was a classical “the eyes follow you” down the hallway type of atmosphere that made Jenny’s skin crawl every time. However, this instance was different. Her skin raised to goose flesh under her heavy fur coat, but the air did not feel cold as it normally would fanning Jenny’s cheeks. The air seemed zapped of any hot or cold sensations, almost as if Jenny had entered a black concrete box. The eyes within the portraits on the walls seemed to narrow in on Jenny, steadily coming closer and closer while the door at the end of the hall seemed to grow far away. Tunnel vision fueled Jenny's haste towards the door, with a deep sense of dread that she had to leave the hallway soon before it closed forever. Ramming the door with her boots, Jenny practically fell into the arms of Dr. Barre on the other side.

“Hello, Mrs. Sloan. I was just coming to get you from the lobby. Thank you for coming in, it is about time. We have been expecting you for a while.” Jenny smiled curtly, assembling herself and things. With shaky hands, she shook Dr. Barre’s hand and proceeded to continue walking with him along the ward. The dark narrow hallway before now opened up into a bright white space of rooms along the walls where the resident patients spent most of their time. Normally the ward was humming with noise from the patients, talking amongst themselves or simply to no one in particular. Tonight, it was dead silent. The tap, tap, tap of Jenny’s boots were high pitched in the echoing chamber.

“Becky has been having trouble sleeping, and she requested your visit to give her a good night's rest. We have decided to increase her dosage, since she’s been hallucinating more about her twin sister. I have given you the adjoining lounge for privacy. We can discuss further options after the hour is up.” Dr. Barre led Jenny to her sisters rooms, with a twist of a golden key she hesitantly nudged the door open.

The room was dimly lit, only by the light of the barred windows could Jenny make out her sister's shrunken silhouette on the window seat. The door closed behind her. Jenny cleared her throat, the hairs on the back of her neck rising once more. Jenny loved Becky, all she wanted to do was help. Yet, every time she came to see her sister, something was always different. Maybe it was the glassy eyed look in her sisters blue eyes, or the angular rise of her cheekbones since she had been refusing to eat. A hollow vessel of what once was her beautiful sister, another ghost to be framed in the portraits within the hospital's halls.

“Oh Becky, how are you? It’s me, Jenny” she called out soothingly into the darkness. The figure at the window seat did not respond. Jenny took a step forward, more apprehension rising in her belly. Something was off. Becky would be running to her as soon as she stepped into the room, yowling about her life and how much she missed her. There was a sharp taste in the air, something on the horizon was about to change.

“Becky, say hello now. It’s Jenny, your sister. I have come to visit you. Won't you give me a hug?” A loud sigh escaped the silhouette in front of the window, as all of the sudden the room seemed to brighten. Sharp flashes of light, and a cacophony of shrieks of swirled around Jenny. The curtains flew open, the windows bursted into a thousand tiny sharp slivers of glass. Some landed in Jenny’s hair, on the backs of her hands as she leapt for cover against the sudden onslaught of destruction. Amidst the blast of sounds and light, all of the sudden Becky was in front of Jenny. But it was not Becky. It was like looking through a mirror. Sharp blue eyes stared into Jenny’s soul, her tight lips wide mouthed, her no longer orderly bun a whirlwind of brown locks. Jenny’s fur coat and jeans ensemble turned into a blue gown, much like what the patients would wear in the hospital. Jenny threw herself backwards away from the image, which did not follow her. A sharp giggle slipped out of the mirage, her sunken blue eyes following Jenny's quavering figure now crouched amid the rubble,

“Becky? You aren’t Becky. Where’s my sister!”

“Oh no, I am not Becky,” the mirage replied with a wicked grin. Jenny raised her hands towards her skull, fighting the steady whack, whack, whack behind her eyes.

“What the hell is happening!” Jenny cried.

The mirage creeped closer and closer, until she was hovering over the cringing Jenny. An ice cold breath of air puffed on the back of Jenny’s neck as the mirage whispered, “I am you.”