I slept well. Long and deep. I woke up only at about nine o'clock in the morning. I stretched my limbs, and with a huge yawn, I greeted my alter ego:

“Good morning!”

I half hoped that I would not hear any answer in my mind, but I was ashamed to ask again: 'are you still there?'

My other half was feeling chatty:

“Good morning Dolores! Did you sleep well? I slept wonderfully. It's been a long time since I felt so safe. I only worry about the Lynx and our friends. What do you think happened to them?”

She worries about game characters...

“They should be OK. If there is a way to login into the game, the gamers will find it, and then we check. OK?”

“OK!”

Once the computers no longer support it, that world must crumble into nothingness. Probably that world no longer exists, but I simply could not bring it over my heart to tell her that. She seemed to care genuinely. I care and am sad, but that's the fate of game characters.

She was not enthusiastic about it. She wanted to try something actively. It does not make any sense; if there is a way, the gamers will find it faster than I would.

I went to the toilet, washed, then dressed summarily and went to the kitchen.

No morning without a coffee! Our coffee machine broke a couple of weeks ago, but I can survive with greek coffee. I brew a nice double portion. Lola will probably come here soon.

Ha, I knew it! I heard Lola coming out of her room.

“Hey, Lola!”

“Mmmm. Morning! Mmmm. You made coffee!”

“Sure, come and drink and have breakfast!”

She entered the kitchen and took her cup, then looked at me. She pointed with her finger at my neck:

“What's that?”

“A tattoo.”

OK, now I have to explain to her my situation gently. Piece by piece.

“What? We agreed that if we make a tattoo, we make it together! You did it without me!”

OK, not what I wanted. I should have thought about it. She was getting excited about my tattoo.

“I have had it since last night. Let me explain.”

I want to come clean; just give me the time to do it, lady.

“Yeah. You went to a party the whole day and did not even think to invite me. That was not nice!”

Party! OK, she thinks that I am as much a party girl as she is. My parties are of a bit of a different nature.

“Look, the problem is: this came from the dream interface. Can you imagine that I got a tattoo inside the game, and I found I got one in reality when I woke up? And this is not the only thing!”

Her reaction was much more dramatic than I thought it would be.

“Is this real? Honest? We need to go to see a doctor! Urgently!”

“No, no, no! Wait! Calm down!”

"No waiting, that's bad! You should calm down and visit a doctor. This is no joke!"

I did not expect this reaction. She was not in panic but adamant. I know she does not like... OK, that she hates the dream interface industry, but I don't want to start a protest campaign now.

I tried to backpedal as my other half told me again that she could make it disappear. There is no reason for panic.

“But, but wait. Look, I think it will disappear...”

I wanted to talk with her about my double personality issue, but I did not want to go to a doctor. Not yet. Once you get there diagnosed with a split personality, you have it hanging above your head forever. I don't want to think about the consequences now. Maybe I'll talk first with my parents, but I don't want to go now to a doctor.

Try to convince Lola! No way. We should go now immediately. My other half did not help as the fairy did not trust Lola: 'she is mean! She is not honest to you!' and other comments on her side just helped confuse me.

“Oh, stop it! Both of you, stop with the nonsense!”

“Both of us? I am alone here; Clara has left early morning! You imagine things! It's even worse than I feared! Come on; I know a good doctor!”

My heart was irregularly beating in my chest. Fuck, I almost gave my game away.

My hands started trembling, and she convinced me to follow her with the whole agitation. She dressed fast, and soon we were in her small car on the way to a hospital.

Do I do the right thing? What do I tell the doctor?

“What doctor do you mean?”

“They must have some competent psychiatrist at the main hospital!”

What?

The more time passed, the more I was not feeling OK with the idea. On one side, she was right; I should probably get an examination. But not like this!

I was not feeling good about having an examination now. If she makes such a drama for the tattoo, what will she do hearing about my split personality? What about healing myself? Or did I dream that? Could it be that I only imagined that?

If this healing is real if this worked for me, will I not be the lab rat for a new generation of healing methods? NO. I must have imagined that; no way I talk with anybody about that.

If I don't talk about that, what do I talk about? How do I explain to them that this tattoo occurred?

I started to think again feverishly about my situation.

Why did I decide to show her the tattoo? I tried another way to ditch the story:

“Maybe somebody did a prank on me? Clara could do such!”

Adding Clara here was an error. It was my villain of every day, but also her sister.

“What? Are you crazy? Don't bring Clara into this!”

Please don't call me crazy!

I don't want to go! Period. I unlocked my seatbelt. I will step out at the first stop if I cannot convince her to go back; I definitively do not want to go to the hospital now. She will then drive back home and calm down. A red lamp started to blink furiously, warning her of my seatbelt removal.

“Stop; I want to exit the car.”

“No way! We are going to the hospital!”

“Stop!!”

“No!”

“Stop, it's red!!!!”

I think Lola saw it at the last moment, or she saw the bus coming from the left as she hit the brakes, but it was too late. With a yowl, like a giant swimming whale, the bus hit us at full speed, our car tumbled over the right side, and I found myself sitting on the asphalt in a kind of absurd situation as if I were sitting in the eye of the storm: everything moved around, but I was left untouched.

The car's door swung a couple of millimetres from my face as the car rolled over. It did not hit me only because it was already bent from the previous hit.

I saw the bus drifting in front of my eyes, half a meter from me, hitting the car again and pressing it against a pole, which broke under the terrible push.

As the pole broke, the electric cables were cut, sparks flew through the air, and the car ignited like a torch.

“Lola!!!!”

I jumped to my feet and ran to the car. I saw her in the middle of a fire ring. Was she shocked? Stunned? She did not move. I wrapped my jacket against my hand, opened the door and pushed my head inside between the flames that were now gnawing at my clothes.

Our eyes met. I saw her desperate eyes imploring, and I managed to unlock her belt, took her in my arms and dragged her away, just in time before my clothes started to burn, running with her head lolling over my shoulder. Somebody, I believe it was the bus driver, used a fire-extinguisher over us, then he tried in vain to extinguish the burning car.

I slipped on my ass, still holding her in my arms.

I heard my other half in my head again:

“Heal her! Her neck is broken! Heal her!”

I hesitated, looking at her immobile body in my arms.

This is fucking real. I know I am crazy; I know I am nuts. I looked at the tattoo on my arm. Crazy. Crazy. Crazy.

It is clear that the internet stories about the dream interface are true. The dream interface can drive you insane.

“Heal her! Is it so difficult to think I want to heal you? She might die if you do not heal her! Just think it if you do not say it!”

If I could heal myself yesterday… Maybe I did not dream that?

”I want to heal you! I want to heal you; I want to heal you!”

I repeated it in my thoughts, starting to cry at the same time. I am crazy. A repeated flow of light passed through my hands, enveloping her for short moments, almost synchronous with the rebuffing fire from the intensively burning car.

Lola started to hit the air with her hands and scream, broke from my arms, managed to stand on her feet, ran a couple of steps, then fell to her knees and started to cry.

I watched her hesitatingly. Other people went to help her. I stood up, came near her and kneed at her side.

I did heal her. Did I do that? I was already starting to doubt it.

At the next moment, I saw a police car manoeuvring between people, blue light flashing, and soon an ambulance arrived. A crowd gathered around the accident area, and a doctor appeared.

“Who is injured? Are you all right?”

Some people on that bus had suffered contusions; the bus driver had a finger maimed, and a person had a bloody nose. We two only nodded that we were ok, but they did not believe us, so after they checked if we had any open wounds, we were both taken with the ambulance and brought to a hospital.

Well… it happened as Lola had said; we went to a hospital, even if not for my tattoo.

To their surprise, and mine too, Lola had only some small scratches on her knees, probably as she kneed on the asphalt in the end. No burning, no other wounds, even if her clothes were partially burned and her skin was covered with dark particles from the fire. I had some burnings, mostly on my hands and face, painful, but no big drama. That was all. Oh yes, my eyebrows were gone, my hair partially burnt too. I need a new haircut.

I said nothing of my tattoo, and nobody asked about it. Why would they? I said nothing about the voice in my head. I was too confused and too shocked after Lola's healing.

What did really happen?

Hours later, when we could finally leave the hospital, we met the same police officer who was first at the accident. He recognised us, asked about us and was so kind as to offer to bring us home, which we gladly accepted. I think Lola made a strong impression on him with her blond hair and long legs, and this might be the reason for his offer.

She was lucky as the flames did not ignite her hair, probably it's been seconds away from it.

On the way home, I was mostly absent-minded; I could not really concentrate on what they were talking about. I was all the time thinking about the implications of what had just happened.

They put it on the accident and the shock, but my shock was for some time with me. Is it possible? How comes Lola is healed? Was it really me?

If this was not clear, then what would be clear for me?

Did Lola not talk about cases when people had wounds in Dreamland, and those became real in reality? Only through their minds?

Did I not get a tattoo in Dreamland, and it became real? If that was no practical joke, then that was done only through my mind.

Did I not get a voice in my head in Dreamland, and suddenly I got that voice in my head in reality? How could that happen? Only through my mind, isn't it? The dream interface might have facilitated these, but my mind did it in the end. There is no way that the dream interface can directly create a tattoo on your body.

And now the even more weird part starts. Did I not get a new faculty to heal in Dreamland, and did I not get it now in reality? The fact that I healed Lola changed the situation for me.

I lost a whole day yesterday running around in circles.

I did this thing. I created my fairy in my brain. I did it all through my mind.

In other words, again, the same conclusion I was running away from: I am what is called a witch or whatever you call it.

Only this can be the simple, stupid, weird answer.

It is no prank; it is no mysterious AI over wi-fi.

I am a witch. Fucking fuck, I need to accept this and try to live with it and stop making a fool of me.