A duplicate. Samira was staring at a duplicate of herself, an actual copy that practically mimicked her every movement. It was…well it was extremely bizarre, a totally mind boggling situation that would have anybody scrunching their eyebrows. How the hell does one react to opening the door at 1 am to find a blood covered doppelganger wanting to come inside? Not like there’s a rule book for situations like this and if there was Samira didn’t fucking know about it. Therefore she was left asking stupid questions and all the while staring back at herself basically.
Samira smoothed out her ombre wig and watched her doppelganger across the table. “Are you here to kill me? I’ve been too damn nervous to ask and I think I’m owed at least some form of explanation.”
”No. I’m merely here to closely observe you but I understand why you’re frightened. The blood wasn’t mine, it was the blood of a man who was trying to hurt me. We’re not unlike you in terms of fear,” The doppelganger explained in a straightforward kind of way.
”We? We who?”
The doppelganger (or S2 as Samira was beginning to call her inside her head) went into a rather deep explanation about how everyone had a copy of themselves, one that was always watching them from a distance until they felt the need to make contact. According to S2, they weren’t naturally violent unless provoked then it sometimes got messy and chaotic. Which sounded a lot like regular people.
Samira had wanted to be a twin at certain points throughout her life. Her mom was a twin and her mom did have a good relationship with hers. Though Samira ended up being an only child and grew used to not sharing or having to scrape and claw for attention. Now she was face to face with her twin in a sense and it’s like her wishes from childhood had been answered. It was just an in obscure way that she couldn’t have expected.
S2 stopped talking midway and cocked her head to the side at something behind Samira. “Who is that?”
When Samira looked over her shoulder she realized S2 was observing a picture, the very picture that Samira was supposed to put away.
”That’s my…my ex girlfriend. We broke up a month ago because we couldn’t make the distance work anymore. I’ve been meaning to put that picture away.”
”Do you not love her anymore?”
”No, but I don’t think she loves me anymore,” Samira murmured, not really giving a shit if S2 heard her or not. She’d stopped caring about expressing her angst several weeks ago.
Fingertips were suddenly brushing against her open palms and Samira made eye contact with her doppelganger. Those same dark brown eyes were blinking along with her. A feeling of calm that she didn’t know if she’d feel again washed over her.
The smile on her face smile dissipated when she noticed S2 was wearing a ring that looked familiar. Her mind went over why that could be the case and it didn’t clue in until a memory hit her. That ring was she bought for her ex, Jordan, on their three year anniversary. Samira remembered how many times she repeated that it wasn’t an engagement ring, how Jordan cackled at her frantic asserting and how they locked fingers after having sex that night.
Samira aggressively pulled her hand away and moved her chair back a little. “Why do you have Jordan’s ring? What – what did you do? What the fuck did you do!?”
I took care of her because she hurt you. Isn’t that people do for those they love? Take care of their problems?” S2 smiled in a way that registered as more sinister than anything.
Getting out was the objective now because now Samira knew a bit too much. Samira moved out her chair as fast she could manage but her doppelganger was quicker. She flung her against the wall and Samira fell to the ground from the impact. Before she could crawl away, her legs were being pulled back and she was scraping her fingernails against the hardwood floor.
There was no way this could end well.