Schizophrenia
A Novel by Asmaa Nada
Chapter Three
The house echoed with the high-pitched laughter of the twins as soon as Maggie stepped inside.
Their little voices were filled with both worry and joy, a mixture only children could manage.
“Mom! Did they put the bad man in jail?”
“Mom, are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, right?”
Maggie smiled and sank to the floor, pulling them both into her arms.
“Hush, sweethearts… everything’s fine. I’m okay now. The bad man’s gone. Don’t be scared. How about we go to the amusement park tonight?”
Her mother chuckled from the couch.
“Amusement park? You go ahead. I’m too old for all that noise.”
The children immediately turned to her, pleading, their laughter bubbling like music.
“Please, Grandma! You don’t have to play, just sit and watch us!”
Maggie laughed. “Come on, Mom, don’t break their hearts. And look—it’s only five o’clock. We’re not leaving till eight. You can rest a bit. I’ll stay with them, read while they watch some cartoons, and you go take a nap.”
Their grandmother kissed them, pretending to scold but unable to hide her smile. Then she went upstairs, leaving the children in front of the TV, glued to an animated movie.
Maggie slipped quietly to her room and brought back a small notebook—the same one she’d started months ago. She made popcorn in the kitchen, placed the bowl beside the kids, and sat behind them with the notebook open in her lap.
A soft smile touched her lips as she remembered how it had all begun—the strange connection with the other voice in her mind.
---
It had started two years after the twins were born.
Back then, she’d been seeing a psychiatrist, trying to understand the blackouts—those moments she would lose all memory, only to wake and be told she’d done things she couldn’t recall.
Once, she’d even tried to kill herself—and her children—to “end the noise” inside her head.
But when she came to, she found them safe, unharmed. It was as if nothing had happened.
When she told her doctor, he said her mind was creating “memory gaps,” that her brain refused to recall trauma. He advised her to keep a daily journal—to write everything down, and read it each morning.
Maybe, he said, she’d begin to see a pattern.
That night, after the twins had fallen asleep, she sat at her desk and began to write:
> “My doctor says I’m hallucinating—that my brain refuses to remember certain moments. But no, I don’t believe that. I think the medicine he gives me is what blocks my memories. It keeps me from knowing who you are—the one inside my head. I can feel you, your presence in my thoughts and my soul. You’re too weak to face me now, but I know you exist.
Once, I saw your message written across the bathroom mirror: ‘Don’t take the pills. You’re hurting our children. Let me care for them. I’ll find a way to free us from Daniel.’
When I told the doctor, he said I was imagining it—that I had written it myself. But I know better. So if you’re real—not just a hallucination—write back to me here. Tell me who you are, what you do when I’m gone, and how you appear.”
She closed the notebook, placed it by the bed, and drifted into sleep.
Or at least she thought she did.
Moments later, she rose again. Her movements were calm, deliberate.
She walked to the twins’ room, kissed their foreheads, tucked them in, then turned and noticed the notebook on the bedside table.
Her brows furrowed.
She didn’t remember leaving it there.
Picking it up, she read the last entry—her own handwriting, yet somehow foreign. Then she smiled, as if greeting an old friend, and began to write:
> “Hello, Eliza. I’m Maggie. I didn’t know you existed either—not until I read this. My doctor says you’re just a delusion, born from the depression I fell into after Daniel abandoned me for those women. That despair almost drove me to kill myself and my babies. But something stopped me. I turned off the gas, got the twins outside, and somehow came back to life again.
I don’t remember much from before that—just my father, and what he did to me. He’s the reason I am this way. But I can feel you, Eliza. I don’t understand why you want to hurt me—or them. I’ve found medicines in the cabinet that aren’t mine, prescriptions under a different doctor’s name.
So here’s my request: let’s make a deal. Go to my doctor. I’ll leave his name and address here. Or choose a new one, and I’ll go too. You take care of the children when you’re here. If you plan to leave town, call Mom so she can stay with them. I’ll do the same for you. Let’s both write everything we do in this notebook. Maybe we can… understand each other.”
---
Maggie blinked out of her memories at the sound of her son’s voice.
“Mom! The movie’s over. When are we going?”
She glanced at the clock. Six o’clock already.
“Go wake Grandma,” she said with a smile. “I’ll pack your clothes and snacks.”
---
That evening, under the shimmering lights of the amusement park, Maggie and her mother stood side by side, watching the twins crash their tiny cars into one another, laughing hysterically.
Her mother spoke quietly, without looking away.
“Which one are you now, Eliza or Maggie? I can’t tell anymore. Only the way you treat the kids gives you away.”
Eliza’s lips curved faintly.
“I’m Eliza. I don’t even know how Maggie first appeared… or if she’s the new one—or I am.”
“No, you’re Eliza,” her mother said softly. “You’ve always been. You were a cold, distant child, sharp as glass. You could read people—see their weaknesses—and use them. Even your father wasn’t safe from that. Until… that man came into our home.”
Her mother’s voice trembled.
“He drugged my drink. Your father let him. He heard your screams and still… he left. When I woke, you were covered in blood. That day changed you. You became vicious, cruel even in your gentleness. The school’s social worker insisted I take you to psychiatrists. And then came Daniel, promising houses, bank accounts, a safe life. He was fifteen years older, but I thought… maybe he’d give you peace.”
Her mother sighed.
“You changed when you got pregnant. For the first time, I saw you happy. You dressed up, cared for the house—and even for me. You brought me gifts. But then one day you came crying. You said you’d gone to tell Daniel the news, but found him with another woman at the hotel.”
Eliza’s eyes flickered.
“I told you maybe you’d misunderstood,” her mother continued. “But you screamed at me. Said your name wasn’t Eliza—it was Maggie. Said you were sure of his betrayal, but you’d pretend not to know—for the babies’ sake.”
Her mother’s hands trembled as she spoke.
“Two hours later, Daniel came home drunk. And you—Eliza—came back. You stabbed him, over and over. I rushed you to the doctor. During the pregnancy, Maggie vanished completely. When you gave birth, you didn’t even want to see them. You tried to end it again—but Maggie saved them. She called me, crying that she didn’t remember anything, didn’t know who had turned on the gas or locked the windows.”
The old woman wiped her eyes.
“So I took you to the hospital. And since then, you’ve lived switching between her and you. Neither remembers what the other does. But one day, something changed. You stopped asking what happened when you blacked out. She stopped asking too. Now, before every trip, you just call me to watch the kids. Eliza… I’m old. I won’t be here forever. You need to tell your doctor the truth.”
Eliza smiled faintly.
“I’m the real one, Mother. Maggie only exists for the children. She’s the weak, naive version of you. I won’t see a doctor. As long as she’s useful, she can stay.”
Her mother’s voice cracked.
“Oh, Eliza… when will that hard heart of yours ever soften?”
“You want me gone,” Eliza said coldly. “So Maggie can live, let the world devour her. But I’m the original. Don’t forget that.”
“You’re both the same person,” her mother whispered. “But her kindness is what saves you.”
“Then why did you change my name to Maggie in the papers?” Eliza asked suddenly.
Her mother hesitated. “Because after what happened, I wanted you to forget. We left the country. I gave you medicine to erase the pain. You started over. I stopped when you married Daniel.”
Eliza nodded slowly.
“So that’s why Daniel thinks my father just left us for other women. He doesn’t know the truth.”
Her mother didn’t answer. The lie hung heavy between them.
“Remember,” she said at last, “no one knows who Eliza really is—not even Daniel.”
The children came running then, breathless with laughter. The moment broke. Eliza smiled faintly, watching them.
“I’ll have to find a way to wake Maggie when they’re around,” she whispered to herself. “I… don’t know how to be a mother.”
---
The next morning, Maggie woke on the living room couch, the TV still flickering blue light across her face.
The sound of the front door creaking open made her sit up.
Daniel stumbled inside—his face pale, his clothes wrinkled. He wasn’t drunk… just broken. His eyes were hollow, his steps unsteady.
He didn’t make it up the stairs. His body crumpled halfway, unconscious.
Maggie approached, kneeling beside him with a faint, mocking smile.
“I should thank whoever sent that bastard to you,” she whispered. “Looks like he did a fine job.”
Without another glance, she turned and walked upstairs.
Then came her mother’s cry for help.
“Liz! Call an ambulance!”
Eliza’s voice snapped back coldly from the hallway.
“Let him die. We’ll be free.”
“God help me, Eliza!” her mother shouted. “Go upstairs—pack your things! I’ll take him to the hospital. If he dies, they’ll say we killed him!”
---
Within minutes, Eliza had packed a small suitcase.
She grabbed a passport—under a different name—and paused at the twins’ room. She kissed their foreheads gently, almost tenderly.
As she descended the stairs, her mother met her halfway.
“Leave through the kitchen door,” she whispered. “Take your real passport. If anyone asks, I’ll say you left last night after the park. Daniel looks… gone. Just don’t disappear for long. Come back tomorrow.”
Eliza smiled faintly. “Yes, Mother.”
Then she slipped out the back door and into the cool morning air.
She walked down the quiet streets until she reached the main road, where she hailed a cab.
She stopped at a café near the bus terminal, ordered breakfast, and was halfway through her coffee when her phone rang.
“Eliza,” said a deep voice. “It’s Elias.”
“Talk,” she said. “Do you have what I asked for?”
“I do… but—”
“No buts. Bring it to the bus station, and you’ll get your money.”
He laughed darkly. “No checks. I want cash. In a small bag.”
Eliza smiled coldly. “Fine. Even better. Meet me at the bank on Fifth Avenue. One hour.”
She ended the call, left a generous tip on the table, and walked out.
An hour later, she withdrew the money and stepped outside—where Elias waited beside a black car with tinted windows.
She stopped a few paces away and gestured for him to follow her.
They crossed to the opposite side of the street, toward a waiting taxi.
“Let’s see it first,” she said.
“Here,” he grunted, handing her a thick envelope. “Photos, video, negatives.”
She flipped through the pictures—every one of her. The beach, the hotel, the park. Proof of everything.
“Where are Daniel’s?” she asked.
“You said video.”
“I said photos and video. Or you get half.”
He groaned. “You’re a tough woman.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out another envelope. “Here.”
Eliza opened it, scanned the contents, and burst out laughing. Loudly. Too loudly.
“Calm down,” Elias hissed. “People are looking.”
“So what? We’re not smuggling drugs,” she said, still laughing. “Now, where are the negatives?”
He rolled his eyes. “You don’t forget anything, do you? Here.”
“Good.” She handed him a small bag. “Count it inside the bank if you want. But remember this—if a single copy of these photos ever surfaces again, I’ll make sure you disappear. Not prison here… prison in Mexico. You know the kind I mean.”
Elias smirked. “No copies. No problems. One million dollars and I’m gone for good.”
Eliza stepped into the cab.
“To the bus terminal,” she told the driver.
From there, she took a bus to another city—then a flight to New York.
Someone was waiting there for her.
A man hopelessly in love, drawn by her voice over the phone, waiting for the blonde with the sapphire eyes who had promised she was coming.
When the plane landed, Eliza went straight to the airport restroom.
Inside, she changed into a short white dress patterned with flowers, slipped on a long blonde wig that fell down her back, and fitted bright blue contact lenses.
When she stepped out, no one who had seen her go in would have recognized her.
Maggie—or Eliza—was gone.
What emerged was someone entirely new.