Disclaimer: As always, I do not own any contents of Fire Emblem.

"Surely nothing is as horrible as living in this reality... Is it?"

How did I get myself into this nightmare?

Every day I witness their sickeningly affection towards another. Their pecks that resembles two birds gawking at each other's, the intertwining of their fingers lazily dangling off each other's...

Every day I hear their squawking giggles, their hushed whispers, their incessant conversations. The way they say each other's name feels like a blow had struck my chest.

"Joshua and Natasha." "Natasha and Joshua."

Every day I smell them. His masculine scent mixed in with her lingering odor of fresh laundry and candles from the church.

They're together. All the time. Inseparable. Her dainty body draped over his build frame.

Whenever I see his flaming red crimson hair, I feel my heart beat a little faster. I try to catch each strand of his hair with my eyes as it travels behind him but just like his movement, it's eerie. He travels across the floor silently with such a prominent, yet elegant stance. When he talks to me in that low baritone voice of his, I get feel shivers run up my spine. His voice slithers through my ears and his warm breath travels down my neck. When he stares at me with that natural sharp gaze of his, only one thought goes through my head. That thought, I want to say out loud. Three simple words, one sentence. I know can't say it, so I keep it in my head.

I keep in there. Echoing itself over and over again.

I feel like I'm going crazy, those three small words bouncing around in my head, knowing that it'll never escape my lips.

It's okay, because then she shows up and clings herself to him. Her bright blue eyes would glisten, her golden locks would maintain its usual form of cascading her porcelain face, and a smile would spread itself across her face.

How annoying it must be to have someone constantly follow you around, like a lost puppy.

But... He looks so happy. They both do.

My eyes would immediately fall to the ground, the hair on the back of my neck would smooth down against my skin and my heart would steady back to its original pace.

My thoughts though, they're replaced with something else.

Dangerous thoughts. They're thoughts I shouldn't be thinking. They're curses and wishes I've silently casted on the woman before me. They're scenes of her fragile body mangled in every possible way. They're prayers to the Gods and angels above for her death.

They're thoughts that scares me.

"Coward."

I look up from the soles of my boots to the full length mirror placed in front of me.

She's seated there in the same position I am in: hands tucked underneath her thighs, backs slouched over, and head cocked slightly to the side.

"If you really did love him, you would do something about it," she says tauntingly.

I furrow my eyebrows together. "Who are you?"

She holds a hand up to her mouth as she laughs.

Her laugh is something I've never heard before. It's unearthly, and unnatural.

"I'm you, silly," she answers with a grin.

She can't be me. That grin… It's menacing and it's something I've never seen before. It almost scares me. It was almost devilish.

But we're both dressed alike: our hair is the same, our face is the same.

She's me.

I scoff. "This is… A dream." I climb back to the head of my bed and lay my head on the pillow.

I close my eyes in hope to waking back to my horrible reality.

"A dream?"

I open my eyes and she's staring at me off the reflection of the metallic water pitcher.

"You call this a dream? Working for the man you love who doesn't return your feelings, but instead directs them towards another woman? Some dream," she scoffs.

I close my eyes again.

This is a dream. Reflections can't talk. They can't act as another person. They can't-

"What? Are you afraid of me?" She whispers.

I toss my body to face the other direction.

"If you're afraid of me…" Her voice sounds close. It doesn't travel through my ears the way Joshua's does; smooth and airlessly. No, her voice pricks my ear canals. And her breath is a blast of icy air. It travels across my face and creeps down my neck, my shoulder, and my chest.

It feels so real.

I immediately open my eyes and find her sprawled in front of me, her face inches away from mine and that same grin plastered on my her face.

I let out a gasp as I kick myself out of bed. I stagger behind but catch my balance on the desk behind me.

She sits up slowly, her legs crossed on top of each other, her back arched as she balances her upper body with an arm held on the bed, and the other arm wrapped loosely around her waist.

"If you're afraid of me, you're afraid of yourself."

I shake my head.

"What's there to be afraid of? You're the most feared swordswoman out there. Everyone you've met is frightened by you. Opps." She put a finger to her lips. "Never mind. I can see why you'd be so afraid of yourself." She giggled.

She slides her legs over the bed and leans back, balancing herself on her arms stretched out behind her.

"You're afraid of being loved, aren't you? Maybe that's why Joshua doesn't love you back. Maybe that's why Gerik never returned your feelings."

I shake my head, not knowing what to say. Was there anything needed to be said? For one, this is just a bad dream, just a fragment of my demented mind. There's no need to talk back to something that isn't real. And the second reason… I'm afraid that what this impersonator is saying is true.

"Fortunately for you, there's hope." She jumps up and casually makes her way across the room. "If she was out of the picture maybe he'd probably love you back."

I can't wake up. Perhaps if I humor her, she'll disappear.

"She'll never be out of the picture. They're always together. They're obviously," I gulped, "in love."

I hated to say it. I hated to admit that. I don't know what hurts more; the truth, or that false hope I've been feeding myself occasionally. That false hope that maybe one day he'll return my feelings.

She stands still in the middle of the room with her arms crossed. "Then get rid of her."

"Get rid of her?" I repeat.

"Yeah. Kill her," she replies nonchalantly.

I swore I saw her eyes flicker a change in color, from its normal magenta one to a darker color I couldn't quite make out.

"Kill her and he'll be all yours. Of course be discrete about it." She starts walking towards me. "When he's mourning over her death, who will be there to comfort him? Who will be that shoulder he needs to cry on? You will."

I watch her as she walks. Something about the way she moves hypnotizes me. It's not elegant, nor is it graceful.

The way she moves, it seduces me.

Before I know it, she pins me against the wall.

"Then you'll be free to touch him all you want." She demonstrates by stroking my cheek with the back of her hand. Even her touch is as cold as her breath.

"Then you can stare longingly into his eyes." She demonstrates by leaning in staring intensely into my eyes.

"Then you can," she says slowly and quietly. Each word is a blast of frigid air to my face, it sends shivers up my spine. "Kiss him all you want." And this, she demonstrates by closing the distance between our faces, and kisses me.

Her lips are rough as it presses against mine. She would suck on my lips until they were swollen. She would bite my lower lip until it drew blood. The kiss, it was rough, and painful.

But I enjoyed it.

She unpins my shoulders and allows me to be free in my movement and so I reach my hands up and place it on the back of her cold neck, drawing her in.

Something overwhelms me and I'm not quite sure what it is. Lust, excitement, greed?

All I know is I wanted more.

I part my lips and allow her tongue to slip in, it brashly collides with mine.

It's strange. Her lips are neither soft nor luscious. Her mouth is neither moist nor warm. But I allow her to consume me.

She pulls apart and allow me to catch my breath. I'm panting as she is calm. Her lips curled up in a smirk, and her eyes looking lustfully into mine. She leans in and places the tip of her lips against my ear.

"Are you still scared?" She whispers in a low sultry voice.

I shudder.

Yes.

"Because there's nothing to be afraid of," she says as she reaches up and fondle with my hair.

She began to leave a trail of kisses down my neck and on my shoulder. Each kiss was cold and unsatisfying. Still, I let out an airily moan every time she places her lips on my body.

My eyes dances circles around the room. I'm dizzy.

One sight engulfs me in horror.

Our reflection in the mirror… It's only me.

I'm standing there terrified and pressed against the wall by nothing.

I look down at her. Her touch and her presence, as dissatisfying it was, feels real.

I come to the realization that this isn't real. None of this is.

I reach over and grab the nearest object. I feel something metallic and round. The metal water pitcher. I push her off and hurl the metallic object in her direction.

Instead of hearing the soft thud of an object making contact with a body, I hear shattering. The sound is loud and screeching to my ears.

I watch as the pitcher slams into the mirror, and its fragment shards spill out on to the floor, some in front of me.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," she scolds.

She's seated on the desk, her arms folded tightly across her chest, and her lower lip hung in a pout.

"Now is that any way to treat me? Or more rather, yourself? You ought to take better care of yourself, you know."

My breathing comes out in short gasps as my eyesight begins to blur. My head hurts, and my body is trembling. I reach up to hold my head, hoping to stop the spinning that seems to be occurring.

This is all… One bad dream.

"That's okay, I forgive you. I've already told you what to do."

I look over to her.

"Now go do it. Go kill her." There it was again, her eyes changed colors. I'm unsure of the color but I'm sure I don't want to know what it is.

I fall to my knees and my eyes fall to the millions of mirror shards laid in front of me. I'm not staring at myself, I'm staring at her.

Millions and millions of her, all mouthing the words "do it."

"Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it." Their voices echo in my head, growing louder and louder by the second.

"No." I say. I grip my head tighter as I shut my eyes.

This is all… One bad dream.

How do I wake myself up?

Without hesitation I grab the largest mirror shard in front of me and hold it to my neck.

The voices stop and I'm staring at my reflection again. My eyes are wide open, and my skin is unusually pale.

The room is quiet except for my haggard breathing and the clanking of my nails against the glass in my quivering hand.

It's over. My hand starts to slack as I let go of the glass.

"You're not going to do it," she says doubtfully from the desk.

I immediately grip the glass tightly. I nod my head. "I will."

I feel something warm tricking down my arm.

"You're not. You're going to chicken out, and throw that stupid piece of glass away."

"You're not real," I say.

I blink and she's kneeling in front of me.

"Oh, I'm as real as you are," she states seriously.

I lodge the glass into my neck. I fall back and lay as blood spills out.

It's warm… And moist as it trickles down and pool around my body.

The pain. Oh the pain. It hurts too much. It hurts to breathe and it hurts to move.

For something that isn't real, it all feels so real and so vivid.

My surrounding is the exact replica of my real room. I could still hear her voice and feel her cold touch on my body.

I try to scoff, but it comes out as wheezy gasps.

This is real. I'm dying.

But I don't mind. It's better for me to escape all of this, all the heartache and pain I've been experiencing too frequently.

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're on the brink of death. Mine didn't, and I prefer it didn't. I wouldn't want to look back on the sad, pathetic I've lived.

From having no loving touch from my father as a child, to working alongside with Gerik as nothing more but a mercenary, and accepting that stupid offer from Joshua.

I suppose it was my fault for accepting his offer. It was an offer I couldn't refuse. But the thing was, I thought I was the only one. I thought I was the only woman he had asked.

I thought I would be the only one who would be at his side constantly. I thought I would be the only one who cling onto his arm. I thought I would be the only one he would wake up to every morning. I thought I would be the only one to kiss and hug him. I thought I would be only one he would love.

"Marisa?"

My eyes make its way to the doorway.

Joshua. There was a frantic expression on his face. It was a look I never thought he would express in his usual poised state.

"Marisa! What are you…?" Joshua made his way over to me. Even when he's frantic he still moves with such elegance.

He hesitated to put his hands on me in fear of the shard embedded in my neck will deepen into my skin.

But I smile up at him.

"Marisa…" He said as he placed his hands on the side of my face.

I've longed so long for his touch and his undivided attention.

Is it pathetic the only way I obtained that was to harm myself?

"Guards!" He shouted as he looked at the open doorway. "I need someone here!"

I reached up and placed my hand on his arm. He looked down at me.

"Marisa, stay with me. You're going to be fine." There was something in his voice that made my heart churn. He sounded scared.

I shook my head. I was still smiling as a tear flown down my face. It started with one, two and then it was an endless stream.

I could see it in his eyes too. He was crying.

Twice his tears fell on my face, sprinkling itself when it made impact.

I've never seen him so worried before. I hate how it was me making him feel this way.

My lungs tightened, making it more difficult to breathe.

Perhaps, maybe, if I could… With my last dying breath, I'll say those three small words I've been dying to say.

I parted my lips. "I… I…" I choked out.

He leaned in. "What is it, Marisa?" He asked hoarsely.

"I-I… Lo-"

My hand fell limp, my eyelids felt heavy and my airway felt constricted.

Over my name being shouted by him, I heard a whisper. It was that same voice that prickled my ears, that same voice that send tingles up my spine, that same voice that terrified me.

She said it once before, but I ignored her. This time, I listened. I listened to how she enunciated that word. Her voice was a raspy whisper as it slithered into my ears and echoed in my head.

This word is the very definition of myself.

Given so many opportunities, I could have said those three words I wanted to say, but I never did. This was my last opportunity, and I didn't take it. Not only could I not say it, I couldn't think it as well.

I'm terrified of my thoughts and I'm terrified of myself.

And that makes me what she so sullenly whispered to me.

"Coward."

A/N:

"She" as in, the other Marisa is supposed to be her alter-ego, sort of. Like her evil self, trying to consume her to commit the bad deeds she's been thinking of. I drew inspiration from the movie 'Black Swan', in case anyone thought this was familiar lol.

Yeap.

Thanks for reading!