My best friend kept saying she’s from a different reality

I’ve been best friends with this girl I’ll call Sarah since I can remember. Her and I were raised together, our families being good friends since before either of us were born. She’s older than me, but only for two months, and that’s helped us stay together even in school. Currently, we are both 21.

Sarah has always been a really funny and charming girl. Between the two, she’s the more outgoing and social, always wearing bright colors. Meanwhile, I could be considered somewhat opposite to her, being more reserved and choosing darker clothing. Still, differences in style and personality never forbid me from loving to spend time with her, and I often found myself tagging along in whatever escapades she came up with.

Close to a year ago, everything about Sarah changed completely. She called me one day, and the moment I picked-up the phone, I knew something was up.

“Hey Sarah, what’s up?” I asked. The voice that came out the other line was definitely Sarah, and she didn’t waste a second before starting to question me.

“Hey, this might sound off but, you’re OP, right?”

I laughed to myself, thinking she was building up to some sort of prank at first. “Yes, this is OP.”

“Okay, that’s good, that’s good.” She went silent for a bit, then continued “Do you remember inviting me to hang out at the park last week?”

“I—recall you inviting me, yes…?” 

“Me? I… I invited you? Not the other way around?”

“No…? Is something wrong Sarah?”

Sarah went silent for even longer. The way she was speaking prior lacked that energetic and contagious attitude I always expected from her, even in the most dire of situations.

“Sarah? … Are you there?”

“S-Sorry! I—” After a short pause, she began asking yet another question. “Listen, do you remember…”

“Do I remember… What?” I pushed.

“Do you remember Lucy being there?”

“Lucy? What Lucy?” I asked, now trying to figure out the punchline of a joke that wasn’t there.

“Oh no… No, no no no no!”

“Is this a prank? Come on, you know I’m not good at these!”

“Lucy! Don’t tell me you don’t know who Lucy is! Y- You’re joking, right? Please, please tell me you’re all messing with me!”

With that, Sarah began sobbing on the phone. I couldn’t make much of what she was saying mid-cry, but after a little bit of me trying to calm her down, she said she’d talk to me tomorrow and hung up. After that I tried calling her back, but she’d reject my calls every time, and eventually messaged me begging for me to leave her alone until the next day.

In the end I relented, still worried. I could barely sleep and by the next day, I was powering through my shift early in the morning with only 3 hours of rest. An hour before work was over, Sarah texted me asking if I was free to talk. I replied that I’d be free after work and her only reply was “Wait, you have a job?”

Later that afternoon, I went to visit her. Both her parents worked late so it was only her and I. We sat in the living room, at first mostly in an awkward silence. She felt distant and cagey, very much unlike the Sarah I knew. She was wearing black sweatpants and a gray hoodie, a far cry from her usual reds and blues. She hugged both her legs and looked at me carefully, her gaze seemingly analyzing my every feature, as if she was trying to find anything out of the ordinary.

A bit uncomfortable, I broke the ice. “So Sarah, what was that yesterday? Did something happen?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she answered. “I… Think I’m not where I’m supposed to be.”

I tilted my head and squinted my eyes, thinking once again that this could be the build-up to some sort of elaborate prank. “What do you mean?”

“Yesterday I had a nap. When I woke up, things were different. My room, my clothes, this house—Everything. Everything was wrong.” She shifted into a more comfortable position, still hugging her leg, her eyes now aimed at the floor. “Even you! You’re healthy, your hair is shorter and even your clothes are different too! It’s like we switched wardrobes and it’s driving me insane!”

The situation was so bizarre to me that I couldn’t process what was happening. I couldn’t really tell if she was trying to prank me or having some sort of mental health issue, so all I did was try to reassure her. “Sarah honey, it’s alright. I’m here for you, okay? I don’t know what’s happening, but maybe we can talk to your parents and—”

Sarah interrupted me by raising her hand, motioning me to stop, and speaking over me. “No, no, no! That won’t work, they’ll think I’m crazy! I can see even if you think I’m crazy. No, OP! I’m not having some sort of crisis or going insane, I don’t know how but I think I woke up in a different reality!”

“Different reality? What do you mean?”

“You know, like timeline shifting? Multiverse theory?”

I looked at her, puzzled.

At this, she shouted impulsively “Jesus fucking Christ, OP! We watched so many videos on the topic last summer!”

During her little outburst, I was left speechless. The Sarah I knew hated swearing with a passion, and I recalled we did something completely different the summer prior.

“Dude, we went to a beach resort with both our families. You were flirting with this Jamaican boy half the time.”

“Ugh, of course.” She gave her next question a little more thought. “Ok, what about the Mandela effect?”

“Oh, that one I know. It’s when you remember things differently to how they were, right?”

“Yes, something like that! So imagine you wake up one day and not one or two things are different, but everything in your life is.” As she said this, she tightened her grip on her thighs to the point I could see them sinking into the folds made from pressing into the pant’s fabric.

“And you’re saying that happened to you?”

“Yes, a lot of things are different! Some are kind of the same, but even those have some differences in this world!”

“I get the idea, but I need you to understand that you sound completely insane.”

“OP, I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me I look insane.”

At her request, I looked into her eyes. I recognized that look, the one Sarah gave me when she was in trouble. Despair, fear, insecurity all packaged into a singular look. Something no one, save for me and her family, knew about.

After that, I was able to believe her, if only a little. We began discussing the differences between “my reality” and hers. Things like the existence of Lucy, who apparently was the third best friend in our group; how another friend called Katie turned out to be our mortal enemy… Or even darker stuff, like how Mr. Lanster, a well-liked teacher back in high school, was arrested for dating one of his students.

Sarah asked me to explain what happened in “this timeline” for her to know and try blending in. As the weeks passed, I kept hanging out with Sarah, our time together felt both familiar and new. Her sudden change in tastes aligned with mine a lot more, so I felt a little guilty about the fact I was enjoying my new relationship with her more than the previous one.

But then, things took a turn for the worse. She began getting sick often, and the more I saw her, the more her face was filled with dread and despair as an unknown disease took over her body.

My routine changed to include daily visits to the hospital. As her health deteriorated, the amount of time I was allowed to see her was reduced as well.

Last week was the last time I saw Sarah. She looked so frail I worried she’d pass away any second, but the poor girl was still able to have a conversation just fine.

We had been talking for a bit, the time for me to leave was near. “I have been cursed.” she said all of a sudden, changing topics.

“What?” I asked, taken aback by the sudden declaration.

“I’ve found out the truth. I’ve been cursed to die here, in a reality that isn’t my own.”

I never fully believed Sarah’s story, but a part of me wanted to believe it was true. Gently, I began asking questions of my own. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

“Yesterday, an old man came to visit. He had a kind look, and I think he was pitying me.”

“An old man? One you didn’t know?”

“Yeah. He told me he knew about my situation, offered to help me. Said I was cursed by someone back in my original reality, that this one can’t sustain my form.” As she told me this, she looked down at the white bedsheets covering her lower body. For some reason, she refused to meet my gaze.

“That’s suspicious. Have you told other people about what happened?”

“Only you, so it’s weird right?”

“How did he… Offer to help?”

“He said he could undo the curse, send me back before I die. But it has a cost I’m not sure I want to pay.”

“A cost? What cost?”

“I’ll tell you later. I need to process things first.”

Something about what she said bothered me, but I didn’t want to pressure her to speak. I figured that maybe she was having some sort of delusion, so after saying goodbye, I went home.

Today, I woke up in a room that’s not my own. I’m not where I’m supposed to be. 

I look the same, but my clothes are different. My room looks different. The house I live in should be the same, but the wallpaper is the wrong color, and there are pictures on the wall I don’t remember taking. The living room has different couches, my email and usernames are different.

I think I know what happened, and I don’t belong here.

I am not me.