Routine

My eyes open slowly and I stare at the ceiling of my bedroom. I blink once, twice and then a third time as I clear the fog from my mind. Sitting up from my bed I realize that I had fallen asleep on top of my made bed. Without thinking I let out a long yawn.

“Weird, it feels like I haven’t slept at all,” I mutter to myself as I look around my room. It’s in pristine condition the usual mass of clothing that hides my carpet nowhere to be seen. Someone, probably my mom, must have gone through and cleaned up my room when I was asleep.

My stomach grumbles and a sudden aching hunger strikes me. It feels like I haven’t eaten in years. I wearily get up from my bed and head out of my bedroom, the sounds of cutlery clinking on plates comes clearly rings throughout the hallway. Mom must have made breakfast already, though I pause at that thought and look towards the window at the far end of the hall.

The night sky stares back at me and I furrow my brow in confusion. “Did, I sleep though the day?” I rack my memory trying to figure out when I had gone to bed, but- I can’t really remember anything.

I bite my lip absently as I start to head downstairs, worry now starting to plague my thoughts. Did I drink last night? How drunk did I have to get to not even remember coming home or going to bed? How hungover must I have been to sleep through an entire day?

Each question I think of brings forth more questions but before I can start to answer them my breath catches in my throat at what I see at the dining table.

I blink once, twice and then a third time. My brain still doesn’t seem to comprehend what I’m seeing.

At the dining table is my mom, my dad and- me. Or at least someone who looks exactly like me wearing- I look down to myself- exactly what I’m wearing. I don’t understand. How could I be sitting at the table, unless I had a secret twin that no one told me about- this should be impossible. I take a step forwards into the light of the dining room and my mom looks up from her meal and locks eyes with me.

They widen briefly- and I feel the urge to shout, to scream that they were in danger from whatever this doppelganger sitting at the table with them is, but before I can get the words to from my mom sighs.

“You have another one,” she says to my clone sitting at the table, “Try to not make a mess this time.”

“What are you talking about?” I manage to force from my throat as I stand up from the table, or at least my spitting image does.

They look at me and shake their head, is that really how I look? I think to myself as they begin to walk towards me.

I lock eyes with them and a primal fear fills my soul. My breathing speeds up and I can feel my heart racing. I never realized that my eyes were so dark. They come closer and I find my limbs frozen, my hands shaking at my sides as they step forwards closer and closer.

Before I can react I’m on the floor.

I raise my hands to try and push them away but their already on top of me.

My arms are pushed under their legs and they raise a fist above my head.

The first blow makes me dizzy.

The second breaks my nose and I taste blood in my mouth.

I’m screaming now, shouting at the top of my lungs for someone to help me.

I manage to raise myself up enough to catch a glimpse of my parents but they’re simply silently eating dinner.

Why aren’t you helping me!? The words never make it out of my mouth as my mirror image places their hands around my neck and halts them. They begin to tighten-

Tighter and tighter and tighter and tighter and tighter and tighter.

My breath stops coming in as they block my throat. The need to cough starts to drive me insane as spit fills my mouth and blocks even more air from reaching my lungs.

Dark black spots start to fill my vision and a buzzing starts to fill my head.

“Third one this week,” I hear my mom mutter, “You really do need to do something about this.”

My dad laughs at that as I lay there dying.

The other me locks eyes with me one last time, their face apathetic.

My eyes open slowly and I stare at the ceiling of my bedroom. I blink once, twice and then a third time as I clear the fog from my mind.

“Weird, it feels like I haven’t slept at all.”

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