The Woman They Tried To Erase

I risked my life daily, fighting monsters to keep our post-apocalyptic community, The Hollow, alive.

Yet, they only saw Anna-the gentle, beloved persona inhabiting my body.

My brother, Michael, and my former love, Caleb, preferred her, doting on her while ignoring the real me, Sarah.

When Project Chimera offered "consciousness integration therapy"-a polite term for erasing me-my own people readily agreed.

They celebrated it as Anna's path to freedom, pushing me to sacrifice myself on the very anniversary of my deepest sorrow.

I retreated, a silent prisoner.

Anna played the helpless victim, effortlessly charming Michael and Caleb, who lavished her with protection.

Caleb, my last hope, gave her the tenderness he once reserved for me.

"He chose me," Anna's smug triumph echoed in my mind, as my very self began to blur.

The betrayal was a gaping wound.

How could they discard me, the one who bled for their survival?

Was I nothing more than a tool, an inconvenient ghost to be wished away?

The agony was so profound, I willed myself into oblivion.

But oblivion wasn't the end.

Days later, a desperate Chimera needed my unique brain patterns.

Forced to resurface, I came face-to-face with him: Ethan Vance, my forgotten childhood love.

He wasn't there to erase me.

He had orchestrated everything to bring me back-transferring my true self to my original, secretly healed body.

My rebirth, stronger than ever, was just beginning.

Project Chimera wanted to erase me.

They called it "consciousness integration therapy."

A clean way to say they would cut Sarah out of Anna' s head.

Forever.

I knew it was a choice. My choice, deep down.

A way out.

Maybe it was what everyone wanted anyway.

They all preferred Anna.

Michael, my brother. Caleb, the man I once thought loved me.

The whole damn Hollow.

They liked Anna' s smile, her soft words.

Not me. Not Sarah.

I was just the one who got her hands dirty, who faced the Spore-Walkers.

The one who kept them alive.

But no one wanted to see the blood, the fear.

They just wanted the supplies I brought back.

And then they wanted me to disappear, so Anna could present them.

I was just a ghost in Anna' s body, the one called "Subject 7" in some old, fragmented files Chimera got their hands on.

They said my resilience was "extraordinary."

Useful for their "advancement of human adaptation."

A lab rat.

I felt the familiar weight press down.

The weight of being the strong one, the capable one, the one nobody truly saw or valued.

Just now, I' d dragged myself back to The Hollow.

Another solo run into the wastes.

Brutal. Spore-Walkers everywhere.

I got the medicine, the fuel.

Anna was already taking the credit, fluttering her eyelashes at the council.

"We were so fortunate," she' d said, her voice like honey.

Not "Sarah risked her life." Just "we."

Meaning her.

Michael found me by the old well, where I sometimes surfaced when the stress got too much for Anna to handle alone.

He didn' t look at me. Not really.

"Sarah," he began, his voice tight. "The Chimera people are here. They want to talk to Anna."

He meant they wanted to talk to the body, and he preferred Anna be the one to do it.

"Let Anna handle this. She' s better at... talking to people."

He still wouldn' t meet my eyes.

He was asking me to sink back down, to let Anna take control.

To be invisible. Again.

My existence, my skills, they were just tools for him, for them.

Convenient when danger struck, an embarrassment otherwise.

My strength was a burden to them.

My quiet endurance, my refusal to break, it made them uncomfortable.

It reminded them of the fire, of everything lost.

Anna was their blank slate, their chance to pretend the world wasn' t ending.

I was the grim reality.

The runs I made, the close calls, the nights I spent patching up the fences while they slept.

Those were just... expected.

And when I was too tired, too grim, too much Sarah... I was an inconvenience.

"Don't be so dark, Sarah," they'd say. "You're scaring people."

Anna never scared anyone. She just smiled.

Caleb was there too, standing a little behind Michael.

His eyes, once warm for me, now held a different light when he looked at Anna.

He shifted his weight, uncomfortable.

"Yeah, Sarah," Caleb said, his voice softer than Michael's but carrying the same message. "Let Anna talk to them. She knows how to be... diplomatic. This Chimera group is important."

He wanted Anna' s charm, not my bluntness.

He used to admire my strength. Now, it seemed to push him away.

My throat felt tight.

This was how it always was.

Their preference for Anna, a constant, dull ache.

Today was also the anniversary. The day of the fire. The day my parents died. The day I became this... echo.

And, ironically, the day they celebrated as Anna's "birthday."

My "birth" day as a ghost.

A cold resolve settled in my chest.

The exhaustion was too deep this time.

The thought of fighting to be seen, to be valued, it was just... too much.

I looked past Michael, past Caleb, at the struggling community of The Hollow.

They relied on me, but they didn' t want me.

Let them have Anna.

Let Project Chimera do their work.

Maybe disappearing was the only peace I' d ever find.

"Alright," I said, my voice flat, devoid of emotion.

I let go. Let Anna surface.

Let them have what they wanted.

I retreated.

Slipped back into the quiet space in my mind, the "inner room" as I called it.

From here, I could see through Anna' s eyes, hear through her ears.

But I couldn' t act. Couldn' t speak.

Just watch.

A prisoner in my own head, in my own body.

Anna took control smoothly, a practiced shift.

Her shoulders softened, her expression melted into one of gentle concern.

She was good at this.

"Oh, Michael, Caleb," Anna said, her voice trembling just a little. "Are they very intimidating? The Chimera people?"

She looked up at them, wide-eyed, the perfect picture of vulnerability.

"I' ll do my best, of course. For The Hollow."

She even managed a weak, brave smile.

Michael' s face softened instantly. "You' ll be great, Anna. Just be yourself."

Caleb nodded, a protective look in his eyes. "We' ll be right outside if you need anything."

They lapped it up.

Her feigned modesty, her supposed fragility.

It made me want to scream.

I was the one who' d just faced down a dozen Spore-Walkers for that medicine.

Anna was worried about a conversation.

The community members, the ones I' d protected countless times, echoed their sentiments.

Old Man Hemlock, whose life I' d saved last winter when he wandered into a Spore-Walker nest, patted Anna' s arm.

"Don' t you worry your pretty little head, Anna. You' ve got a way with words."

Maria, whose children I' d pulled from a collapsing building during a tremor, smiled.

"Sarah' s good for the rough stuff, but you, Anna, you bring us hope."

Hope.

They valued Anna' s illusions over my reality.

Their memories were short. Their preference for comfort over competence was absolute.

They gathered around her, a protective circle, offering words of encouragement.

All for Anna.

Michael and Caleb flanked her as she walked towards the council hall where the Chimera representatives waited.

Michael put a supportive hand on her back.

Caleb offered her a reassuring smile, the kind he used to give me.

My heart ached, a familiar, hollow pain.

I watched their faces.

Michael' s brotherly concern, so easily given to Anna, so rarely to me.

Caleb' s tender gaze, now reserved for the persona he preferred.

They chose her. Openly. Every single day.

And I was forced to watch.

A tiny, foolish part of me still hoped.

Hoped that Caleb, somewhere deep down, remembered the Sarah he once knew.

The Sarah who rode with him, fought beside him, laughed with him under the Wyoming stars, before the Blight, before the fire.

Maybe he still saw a flicker of me beneath Anna' s surface.

But then Anna stumbled slightly, a deliberate, tiny misstep.

Caleb' s arm shot out, steadying her.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice full of concern.

He looked at her, and the last sliver of my hope died.

His eyes were full of Anna. Only Anna.

My silent joy, the one I' d hoarded from memories of him, faded.

In my inner room, a strange thing happened.

I often pictured my consciousness, my sense of self, as a small, worn name tag pinned to the wall of this mental space.

"SARAH JENKINS."

Now, as I watched Caleb' s devotion to Anna, the edges of the tag seemed to blur.

The letters flickered.

It was a premonition, I knew.

A sign of what Chimera' s "therapy" would do.

I was disappearing, piece by piece.

And the ones I had loved, the ones I had protected, were helping it happen.