It's Not Easy To Be Me


It was late in the afternoon when I woke up. Actually, it was more like evening. The sun was barely seen in the horizon and cool breeze began to invade my bedroom window. I looked at the street it was abandoned. Not a soul in sight. Not even a single four-legged creature roved the narrow avenue where our house is erected. As the sky was being engulfed by blackish-greyish mattress accentuated with couples of tiny stars, the street lamps automatically lit.

Four blocks from where I was, I could see someone standing near the busted lamppost. I shifted my position from the window trying to get a better profile of the person, but it was too damn dark to actually see the person’s face. I continued to observe, hoping and wishing that person would walk into the light. But, alas, the person just stood there quiescently.

I don’t know why. However, I waited for the person to make any sudden movements. I was curious who the person might be. But why I found asking myself. Why do I need to know who that person was? What was I waiting for? A revelation? A revelation of what? I kept asking these questions over and over in my head.

I could hear the clock’s arms ticking away as I waited anxiously for the person hiding beside the busted lamppost to reveal his or her self. In fact, I could hear my heart thump. Every beat and every throb aching with anticipation to know the identity of this person that I was seeing through my bedroom window. It seemed that there was a nagging feeling deep inside of me telling me who this person might be. But, I had to know. I needed to be certain.

As the wind touched my face, I could not understand why my forehead began to drip with sweat. I gulped hard. My body hairs began to stand out and chills began to enclose my body. I quivered. Am I afraid? Afraid of what? What was there to be frightened of?

Minutes had passed and I could still see the person’s silhouette. Immobile. Then, the wind blew again. I yelped in horror as I heard it carried my name. The wind voiced my name. I felt terror. I tried to compose myself assuring that it was not possible. But, then, I heard my name being whispered by the wind again. I wanted to run. But, I couldn’t. I was being paralyzed by a force I couldn’t see. I wanted to yell but my voice wouldn’t come out. I panicked. I was trap. I was helpless.

My eyes began to well. Droplets, at first, then it soon turned into a stream. As eye water began to cascade to my cheeks, my entire soul was being flooded by melancholy that I have never known before. Then, bits of memories flashed right before me. Images that I have no recollection of having but it all seemed so real. I could see myself doing unspeakable acts. Nefarious deeds inconceivable I could never fathom of having or entertaining in my thoughts. I totally lost it. I wept my heart out. The anguish of my visions seemed too great to bear. My spirit was being consumed by an enceinte evil even the wings of redemption could not salvage. I was being thrown into oblivion. I was falling hard.

Then, the visions suddenly stopped. The silhouette stepped into the light. I was dumbfounded. He was I. I was he. He devilishly grinned at me with his fiery pupils as he lit a cigarette. He then stared directly into my eyes and laughed malevolently that echoed straight into my soul.

I jumped out of my skin when the alarm went off. This momentarily broke my gaze at the stranger who looked exactly like me. When I look out at the window again, he was gone. I turned my back at the window and the wind blew whispering my name once again.

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Doppelganger by S. Paguia is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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2 responses

  1. Excellent, evocative language and a thoroughly chilling tale! I really enjoyed reading it. Regards, Paul


    November 15, 2013 at 1:59 am

    • Hi Paul, Thanks for your comment it means alot to me especially coming from an accomplished author of this genre!


      November 15, 2013 at 6:29 am

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