I’m writing this from my closet right now. I think he’s in the house.

Let me explain how I even created him. This all started about a month ago. I’m not a scientist or anything, I’m a Junior in high school. I didn’t get my hands on any super advanced technology, or at least I don’t think I did. Actually, it’s my mom who got it for me. She has somewhat of a shopping addiction. It’s not what you might think though. She doesn’t obsessively buy clothes or purses; what she buys is much more random. I can’t exactly think of a specific category of items. She buys from places like thrift stores, pawn shops, flea markets and swap meets. I’m not sure which one she bought this from.

She had been gone for hours, which is normal for her. When she came back she had bags of random decorations for our already cluttered house. Not surprising. It was even less surprising when she insisted on showing off every item and asking me where to put it. As always, I wasn’t really paying attention. I mean, if I partook in this habit of hers every time she came back from a shopping spree, I’d have lost my mind by now.

“I bought this one for you,” She said as she held up a battered old box. It wasn’t very big, about a foot wide and a foot long. It caught my attention.

“What’s in it?” I asked as I turned off my phone. She didn’t buy things specifically for me very often since I was never really interested in any of it.

“Go look,” She said as she placed it down on the kitchen counter. By the time I walked over she was already admiring something else she’d bought.

When I opened the box, I was confused. It was an assortment of seemingly random items. An old retro alarm clock, a small plastic cylinder with a funnel attached to the top, a rusted pair of scissors, tweezers, and a syringe with a faint red stain along the interior. But what interested and confused me the most was the eight inch long glass cylinder. It seemed to be almost an inch thick, thoroughly sealing in the inky black liquid inside. I picked it up and was surprised to note that the liquid was quite warm. Tilting the bottle side to side revealed that it was rather viscous. The liquid was about two inches below the cylinder’s metal cap, leaving a bit of space. Near the top was a small line that I assumed was the fill limit. I put the cylinder back down and glanced into the box again. This time I spotted a piece of paper buried beneath the random items. Careful not to cut myself on the syringe or scissors, I pulled the paper out and was disappointed to find that it was written in a different language. It was also pretty old. It was stained a light yellow and had a few cracks and rips in it. Not ancient by any means but definitely written at least two decades ago.

I dropped the paper back into the box and turned to my mom, “What is this?”

“Did you see it?” She said as she analyzed a small abstract painting.

“Yeah. What is it?”

“It’s supposed to help you…” She got distracted by something in another one of her bags, “...make friends or something,”

“Or something? How is this supposed to help me make friends?” I was getting annoyed at this point. She always pestered me about leaving the house and talking to people more often.

“The man who sold it to me didn’t speak very good English,” She said as she dug through another bag, “I think he spoke Spanish or something,”

“So you bought something and you don’t even know what it is?” Honestly, why was I surprised? It was just like her.

“Just try it out,” She said as she waved me off.

I grabbed the box and left for my room. If I stayed any longer then it would probably turn into an argument, and then she’d be passive aggressive and angry for at least a week until she spontaneously calmed down.

Honestly, I put the box down in a corner of my room and forgot about it for a while. The week went by, but eventually my mom noticed. I’ll spare you the details of the conversation, but basically she was mad that I didn’t even try the gift. I decided to try it in an attempt to appease her. If I didn’t, I’d have to take the bus for a week to spare myself the uncomfortable car rides to school.

So, I cleared my desk and put down the box. The first thing I had to do was translate that paper. Not too difficult. I tried taking a picture of it, but the translation was rough so I opted for manually typing it out. To my disappointment, the paper didn’t explain what the contents of the box were meant for. It did, however, have instructions for what to do.

Follow the instructions below exactly:

Do not spill the mixture

I assume it means the black liquid

Collect two DNA samples (Saliva, hair, teeth, blood, or urine)

The teeth and blood concerned me. What in the world was this for?

Carefully open the container. DO NOT TOUCH the mixture.

Drop the DNA samples into the mixture

Seal completely. Shake the new mixture and let sit for forty-eight hours. DO NOT TOUCH THE CONTAINER DURING THIS PERIOD.

Collect after forty-eight hours.

I still had no clue what this would do, but I really didn’t want to deal with the school bus, so I continued. I didn’t think much would come of it.

I peered into the box again to decide what DNA samples to use. I shuddered as I saw the tweezers and remembered that ‘teeth’ was an option. And the red tint inside the syringe was more concerning now. I moved them both aside and looked at the remaining options. The funnel and plastic cylinder must’ve been for the saliva and the scissors were likely for the hair. I was very thankful that there wasn’t a container for the urine sample, since it seemed like some of these had been used. While I wasn’t keen on cutting my hair, it looked like the cylinder might overflow if I added too much liquid, so saliva and hair it was.

I grabbed everything I needed and headed to the bathroom. I washed out the container for saliva and, long story short, collected what I needed. Then I grabbed a lock of hair that I hoped wouldn’t be too noticeable and cut it off. Now to open the container. It actually took me a while- it was sealed really tight. When it finally came off, I was glad that there was a paper seal underneath, since I stumbled back and the mixture would’ve spilled. At that point I was a little nervous. The warnings were vague. I wondered what would happen if I touched it. Of course, I wasn’t going to test it out, but I was curious. Discarding the thought, I carefully peeled off the seal. I dropped my hair and saliva inside, then twisted on the cap as tight as I could. I shook the bottle and then wondered where I should put it. I decided to leave it in the cupboard under the sink so it wouldn’t get in the way.

Once everything was cleaned up I returned to my room and remembered I needed to set a timer. I could’ve used my phone, but I decided that I might as well use what was provided. After a quick Google search on how to use that old ass clock, I set it to go off in forty-eight hours. Then I cleaned everything up and told my mom. She was mostly appeased, so I carried on with my life.

Nothing much happened during those two days. All I did was catch a tiny cold.

But when the timer went off, I wasn’t home. I got back from Sam’s house a few hours after the alarm went off. Mom wasn’t home to turn it off, so when I opened the door, I heard it ringing from my room. Now, I got a little nervous when this happened. The note didn’t say what I had to do after the forty-eight hours were over.

I walked to my room and turned off the alarm, then rushed to the bathroom. When I opened the cupboard, all that was left were glass shards and the metal cap. This was a confusing sight, but my best guess at the time was that the liquid had evaporated. Maybe there was a chemical reaction? It was too hot and the glass cracked? I wasn’t sure. All I did was clean up and throw away the evidence. It's not like I could’ve guessed what had actually happened.

The night got worse. What I thought was a cold turned into a pretty severe fever very quickly. At first it was a cough, then nausea, then fatigue. Within the hour I had thrown up three times and decided to try and sleep it off.

When I woke up, I didn’t feel any better. I didn’t even feel well enough to call in sick for school. I’d take the absence. Took me hours to finally get out of bed and hobble my way to the kitchen to heat up some soup. My head was aching and I was pretty dizzy. I managed to get most of the soup down and tried watching TV for a while. Eventually I made my way back to my room, where I proceeded to fall asleep again. When I woke up this time, I finally felt a bit better. Still felt like throwing up, but it was slightly better. My mom was home by that point and was helping take care of me. She brought me food and medicine, so that was nice. On the fourth day, I felt well enough. Still had a bit of a headache, but it was manageable.

Then Sam texted me.

Sam- ‘U ok?’

Mike- ‘Yeah, been sick’

Sam-’K’

Sam- ‘U were looking weird’

I glanced around my room and wondered if he was making a weird joke.

Mike- ‘Wdym?’

Sam- ‘U had a weird look on your face’

Mike- ‘Can you see me rn?’

Sam- ‘Saw you a few mins ago’

Mike- ‘Shut up. Are you outside?’

Sam- ‘Yeah idiot, in the park’

Sam- ‘U walked past me a minute ago’

Mike- ‘Whatever. Come inside or stop being a creep.’

Sam- ‘Wat?’

Mike- ‘Been in my house all day. I’m sick, remember?’

Sam- ‘Come on, just saw you, don’t lie’

At that point I sent him a picture of me lying in bed.

Sam- ‘Wtf??? I swear that was u’

Mike- ‘Nope’

Sam- ‘Must’ve been a doppelganger’

Mike- ‘Whatever you say’

The rest of the conversation past this point is pretty irrelevant. Obviously at the time I didn’t think it was the thing that’s currently outside my house. I figured Mike saw someone that looked like me and got confused. In hindsight, I know that’s not the case.

I saw the truth the next day. My mom had left for work and I was feeling pretty good. I got out of bed to go use the bathroom. When I looked through the doorway, I screamed. I hadn’t even realized that he looked exactly like me, I was just freaked out that there was another person in the house. But as I stared at him, I noticed that he was my spitting image. My brown hair, my hazel eyes, my pale complexion, my height. Everything. The only thing different about him was his clothes. An old pair of jeans I hadn’t worn in a while and the gray sweater I got last year.

I was frozen. He wasn’t looking at me though, he was looking in the mirror, analyzing his face. My face. Slowly, he turned his head. It’s a strange sensation, seeing your own eyes looking back at you. But this thing, there was no emotion on his face. If eyes are the window to the soul, then he doesn’t have one. When he took a step towards me I bolted to my room and slammed the door behind me, being very sure to lock it. My heart was racing and I think I was starting to hyperventilate. Really, it’s all a blur of panic. I’d never had a panic attack before, but I think that’s the closest I ever got. My mind was still trying to grapple with what I had seen, so it took me a while to start searching for my phone. My hands shook as I sifted through the blankets on my bed, trying to see where I’d left it. I screamed again when someone knocked on my door. By then I just ripped the blankets off my bed but still couldn’t find it.

“Michael,” My muffled voice said from the other side of the door. It was monotone and just sounded wrong.

I checked my nightstand and it wasn’t there either. My legs were weak and I felt like crying. I couldn’t find my phone anywhere. Another knock came from the door. I frantically searched the room for any exit, my eyes landing on the window.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked with no concern or confusion in his voice. I probably should’ve been a bit quieter, but I was in a panic. I ran for the window and fumbled with the latch. Another knock at the door. I pulled on the handle, not remembering which way it was to unlock it. When the latch finally clicked, I shoved the window open and was outside in seconds. After that I just started running. All I knew was that I needed help. In my panic, I passed by multiple people who seemed a little concerned, but I didn’t think to ask them. My adrenaline rush carried me the three blocks over to Sam’s house.

I told him about everything and he called the cops for me as I tried to calm down. I’m not sure whether he believed me or not, but he definitely was concerned. We made our way back to my house where the cops had already arrived. Nobody was found inside and there were no signs of forced entry. The officer taking our statements seemed annoyed and indirectly told us off. ‘Calling the police is serious’ and stuff like that. My mom was called, and needless to say, she wasn’t too pleased.

At first she was a little concerned, but our conversation turned into an argument. I told her about who I saw and she thought that I’d made the whole thing up. She complained about having to leave her job early and how she couldn’t afford to do that. Needless to say, the conversation got ugly. I’m not all that proud of how I handled it, but at a certain point I brought up how much money she spent because of her shopping addiction. We got into some personal stuff and by the end of it I was grounded. I made sure to lock my door and window before going to bed that night.

Friday came and went. It was hard to focus as I spent the whole day looking out for whoever I’d seen. By the time school was over, I was feeling pretty unsure of myself. My brain started coming up with excuses. Maybe my fever had been worse than I thought. Maybe I had been really tired. I didn’t know. The police didn’t find anything and it did sound really weird. I think anyone’s brain would’ve started making excuses by then. Don’t worry though, I saw him again and all my theories were disproved.

My mom soon left to visit family. I decided to skip the trip both due to the car ride and to avoid my mother complaining to my family members about me in my face. Since I was still grounded, she took my phone with her. It had been a while since the incident, and while it still creeped me out, my brain had finally convinced me that I was mistaken. It was the afternoon and I had to go to the bathroom. When I looked through the doorway, there he was again. I think I caught him practicing how to smile because when he turned to me, he wore a horrifying grin.

“Jesus- fuck-” I stumbled back into the wall, then turned and ran for the kitchen. I didn’t hear him follow me but I grabbed a knife anyway. When I turned around, there he was, expressionless once again.

He looked down at the knife and cocked his head to the side, “I don’t understand your concern,”

My hands were shaky as I tried to compose myself, which was hard to do when I was looking at proof that this thing was real, “Who… the fuck… are you…” I said as I backed away from him. I was really trying to control my breathing.

He looked back up at me, “Do you not remember?”

I didn’t respond. I was too busy trying to find a way to get away from him. Running around the kitchen island and for the front door might’ve worked, but I wasn’t sure how fast he was. What if he caught me? What would he do? The question was enough to keep me where I was.

He interrupted my thoughts, “You saw me five days ago,”

“No shit,”

I hadn’t seen him blink once that entire time, “You created me seven days ago,”

Now confusion entered the mix of fear and desperation I was feeling. I had no clue what he was talking about. He said nothing else, so I tried thinking about what he was referring to. What was I doing seven days ago? The only thing I could think of that was out of the ordinary was the weird gift my mom gave me. How the fuck would that create him?

“To my understanding, you are,” He analyzed my face for a moment, “Fearful,”

“What the fuck do you want?” I said as I took a tentative step sideways around the kitchen island. He didn’t move, though his gaze followed me. Then the doorbell rang. I jumped and looked towards the door, then looked back at him. Except, he was gone. I spun around but didn’t see him everywhere, “Fuck!” I sprinted towards the door and flung it open, rushing past Sam.

I can’t remember much else about that day. I spent it looking over my shoulder and trying to grasp what I’d seen. I told Sam about everything, and he tried his best to help. He let me stay at his house that night, since I was too anxious in my own, and didn’t dismiss what I was saying. After having told him everything, I was pretty quiet. He didn’t pry, but he was researching something on his computer for most of the day. And things didn’t get much better after that.

I didn’t see him for a few days. I was staying at Sam’s during that time in the spare room. His little brother Bobby was loud, but it was better than being alone at my own house. Sam told his mom that I wasn’t feeling safe and she accepted that. She was certainly more empathetic than my own mother. Sam and I talked about what could be happening. He passively mentioned the possibility that who I saw may not have been real, but dismissed it when he saw that I was certain. We eventually came to the conclusion that it must’ve been related to my mom’s gift. We didn’t know how it worked, but the fact that it needed my DNA was suspicious.

I was constantly on edge after the incident. I tried to relax, but I felt uneasy around the windows. It felt like I was being watched. Sam said that it was probably paranoia, but I think he could feel it too. He seemed slightly more jumpy, more on edge. Thankfully his mother and brother seemed to be pretty unbothered, though I saw Ms. Watson sage the house one night. From what Sam had told me in the past, that was supposed to ward off negative energy. I didn’t believe in the supernatural, but I hoped that if it were real that the sage would do something.

Bobby was only six years old. I cared about him, but he could certainly be annoying sometimes. He stayed up past his bedtime running around his room and loudly listening to YouTube videos. The walls were pretty thin, so I could hear him all night.

“How does he have so much energy when he never sleeps?” I asked Sam one day as we were watching something in the living room. We could hear him laughing down the hall.

“I ask myself that question every day,”

“How do you get to bed?”

Sam took in a deep breath, “You get used to it eventually,”

I uncomfortably glanced out the window as the sun began to go down. I was mentally getting ready to go to bed. Once it got dark, it was really hard to sleep. The stillness outside my window was occasionally broken by the wind or the rustling of the leaves outside. Any noise made me jump. We watched TV for a while longer before I left for my room. As I did every night, I checked and double checked every corner of the room. Under the bed, in the closet, and outside the window. Then I drew the curtains to be safe. Once I was ready, I got into bed and tried my best to block out Bobby.

That night I actually slept quite well. I would’ve liked to believe that it was me getting used to the background noise, but I know that’s not what happened. Bobby was quieter that night, but I hadn’t really noticed. After the second night of getting good sleep, I wondered if Ms. Watson had spoken to Bobby about being quieter. On the third night is when I noticed something was wrong.

I fell asleep for a while, but I was awoken by Bobby’s giggling. Not uncommon. I rolled over in bed and tried to go back to sleep. Once again Bobby was talking to his tablet as if the YouTubers he watched could hear him. This went on for twenty minutes before I noticed that I hadn’t heard any music. Every night, I heard the annoying songs the YouTubers he watched played for every intro and outro. But I hadn't heard any. This made me sit up. As I listened closer, I could hear another voice. A familiar voice. Ice ran through my veins. It couldn’t be. Bobby giggled again. I pressed my ear against the wall and strained to listen. They were speaking very quietly, and I really wanted to believe that it was a video. But in all of the video’s Bobby watched, the YouTubers were just as loud as he normally was. I took a deep breath and willed myself to get out of bed, really really hoping I was mistaken. But if I wasn’t, I couldn’t leave Bobby in there alone.

I tried my best to make sure the bed didn’t squeak and silently made my way across the room. Creaking my door open as gently as possible, I tried to look down the dark hall. The only light visible came from underneath Bobby’s door. I stood frozen as I hoped for the best. Taking my first step out of the room, it seemed like the air around me changed. It was so still. Carefully, I made my way down the hall, trying to listen to the voices over my beating heart. The sound of my feet against the wooden floors seemed so loud in the near silence. Only three feet away from Bobby’s door, I was certain. It was him. I was scared, but also mad. It was one thing to torment me, but he had followed me here. He was doing god knows what with Bobby, who had nothing to do with the situation. I knew I should probably grab a weapon, but as I stepped in front of Bobby’s door, the voices stopped. I felt so vulnerable. In the middle of a pitch black hall, I didn’t know what this thing was, what it wanted, or what it would do when I opened the door.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I opened my mouth, “Bobby?” I called out, though it came out quieter than I had intended. I heard a little giggle from inside. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the handle and swung the door open.

Bobby was sitting on the ground. His face was turned to me, but his body was facing the other direction. Facing towards his open window. And when he saw me, he clapped, “How did you do that?!”

“What?” I asked, my voice wavering. I looked around his room. He was the only person in there, but his tablet was charging on his bed.

“Do it again!”

I stepped into his room and checked behind the door, then looked back at him. He was still smiling, his eyes full of amazement. I looked at the window again, then crossed the room and slammed it shut, being sure to lock it, “Who were you talking to?” I asked as I looked outside.

I already knew the answer, “You!” Bobby giggled.

I didn’t know what to say. How could I explain this to him? Now I didn’t feel like I was being watched, I knew I was being watched. I didn’t know where he was, but he was watching me. I took Bobby and rushed over to Sam’s room, then rapped on the door until he opened.

“What?” He asked, clearly irritated,

“We need to talk,” I said as I looked around.

“Right now?”

“Yes, now,”

He must’ve seen how panicked I was, because he let me and Bobby in, “What happened?” He asked with a bit more concern.

I sent Bobby to sit on Sam’s bed while we spoke, “He was here,”

It took him a moment to realize what I was saying, “What?”

“He was talking to Bobby,”

Sam stood there, shocked. He shook his head, then rushed over to his little brother, “Are you okay? What happened?”

Bobby was confused, as he’d realized we were upset, “Me and Mike were talking for a while,”

“About what?” Sam pressed him to continue.

Bobby shrugged, “I don’t know, he told me to be quieter. Then he did a magic trick by leaving through the window and coming back in through the door,” Bobby looked at me for confirmation, but I was too busy trying not to panic.

Sam rubbed his hand over his face and thought for a moment, “Okay… don’t do that again,” Bobby furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “That was… that was someone doing a magic trick to look like Mike. Don’t talk to them. Lock your doors and windows.”

Bobby seemed rightfully scared but agreed to not talk to them again. Sam and I spent a while trying to calm him down, but eventually he only agreed to sleep in Sam’s room for the night. When I went back to bed that night, I was certain I could hear footsteps outside. The next day Sam and I contemplated telling his mom, but decided against it. Yes, we know now that was a mistake. But at the time we were scared she would react as my mom did. As well, Sam was scared that she might kick me out. Now, obviously I was scared of that as well, but I also felt bad for putting Sam and his family in danger. Still, he insisted that we try and wait it out. We spent the rest of that day brainstorming what it could want and how to make it go away. At this point, Sam fully believed me. In the end, we had no clue. If I had created it, I didn’t create it for any certain purpose. We didn’t know what it was trying to do. By the end of the day, we gave up and prepared for the night.

I could hear the footsteps for a while. I’d say they went on for about an hour before suddenly coming to a halt. I didn’t know why, until there was a knock at my window. Nothing too loud, but it made my breath catch in my throat. I kept my eyes shut and waited for it to go away, but it never did. Every minute, there was a knock. It came periodically for thirty minutes before I got out of bed and walked over to the window. Despite the fact that I knew what I was going to see, I still stumbled back when I drew the curtains apart. There he was again. He was just about to knock again but put his arm back down when he saw me. I was waiting for him to do something, but he didn't. He just stood there, staring at me. It was just as unsettling as last time.

Finally, I mustered up the courage to speak, “What the fuck do you want?”

At that he cocked his head to the side but did not respond.

“What do you want?!” I was getting angry. It's exhausting living weeks in a state of fear, and here he was just staring at me. But even so, he didn’t respond, “Why are you here?!”

Finally, it spoke, “For whatever purpose you need,” Its muffled voice came through the window, sending chills down my spine. It’s voice was no longer so monotone and sounded a lot more like mine.

“I don’t need you for anything. Why are you here?”

“I was created to serve whatever purpose you need,” It’s really creepy seeing my voice come from my emotionless face right in front of me.

“I didn’t even want you! You were an accident because my goddamn mom bought that stupid box on a whim!” As I stared at it, it remained stone faced, “You want to help? Go! Leave me alone! Get rid of yourself! I don’t want you!”

It didn’t respond. After an awkward moment of silent staring, I closed the curtains. I didn’t go to bed that night, though I didn’t really try to. I stayed up, making sure that it didn’t try to enter my room. I didn’t hear any more footsteps, but when I opened the curtains in the morning, it was gone. I told Sam about it when he woke up. Neither of us felt watched anymore, though we were still on edge. We didn’t know what it was going to do with those instructions. I was really hoping it would get rid of itself. Two days later Ms. Watson told me that my mom was heading back home. She would be back by five, so she offered to drive me home. When it was time, we pulled up to the driveway but didn’t see her car. I assumed it was in the garage, said bye and went inside. My mom was already in her room, but she left my phone on the kitchen counter. I checked the house to make sure he wasn’t hiding anywhere, then went back to my room. My mom didn’t try to talk to me, so I supposed she was still upset, but I didn’t really care. I was mad at her as well. She got me into this damn situation, then left while I had to deal with it.

My life was pretty normal for a few days. I was still checking over my shoulder, but I didn’t see him again. I took the bus to school since mom was still ignoring me. We didn’t talk or even see each other for a few days. Then my aunt texted me.

Sheryl- Hey sweetie, can you tell your mom to call me back? She hasn’t been responding to me. Thanks!

I said yes and begrudgingly left my room, approaching my mom’s door. I knocked but got no response, “Mom?” I rolled my eyes. Either she was ignoring me or she had fallen asleep with the TV on. I knocked again and called out, but still got no response. I texted my aunt and told her my mom was asleep. Now, if I’m telling you about this then you know something’s wrong. And it was, but I didn’t know it at the time. By the seventh day of her ignoring me, I was starting to get weirded out. I hadn’t heard her leave her room, cook, or take anything from the fridge. I texted Sam and he immediately told me to check her room. So, I walked over, knocking just to be sure. When she didn’t answer, I swung open the door and was met with an empty room. My heart began to race, but I checked the garage before panicking. No car. Okay, maybe she wasn’t home. I texted her to ask where she was and thankfully received a response.

Mom- Getting groceries. I’m just down the street.

I sighed in relief and felt a little dumb. I walked outside and waited for her. Being scared that something had happened to her made me want to forget the whole argument we were having. And really, I was still coming down from the anxiety and needed to see that she was actually okay. After a few minutes of waiting outside, I saw her car turn the corner. I sighed out of relief and walked over to the sidewalk. The car rolled down the street, but as it did, I noticed that the front was dented. Had she gotten in a car accident? Since I was studying the damage on the car, I didn’t notice that she had sped up. Now the car was barreling down the street towards the house. Actually, I noticed, it was coming towards me. By the time I realized this I barely had enough time to jump out of the way before the car drove right over where I had been standing. There was a loud crack behind me as the mailbox was run over. I stared flabbergasted at the car as it continued down the street. Even after it disappeared around the corner, I stayed on the ground, my heart racing.

What shook me out of it was when my phone rang. My hands shaking with adrenaline, I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced at the screen. It was my mom. I answered the call and held the phone to my ear. I could hear the sound of her driving in the background, but she didn’t say anything.

“Hello?” I finally said, my voice a mix of annoyance and fear.

There was silence for a moment before my voice came through the phone, “You were an accident because my goddamn mom bought that stupid box on a whim!”

I froze. It sounded exactly the same as when I had said it just a few days ago, “What the fuck…” He didn’t say anything else, “Where is my mom?!”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he ended the call. I stared down the street for a while before eventually getting up and rushing back inside. Obviously I considered calling the police, but what was I supposed to say? My clone tried to run me over and may have killed my mom? No. It took me a while to calm myself, but eventually I managed to think of a plan. I called my family to ensure they hadn’t seen her, which caused my aunt to panic. She was already in her car when she called to say she was staying with me until my mom was found. I had no objection and told her what I could when she said she was filing a missing persons report. I had to be selective about what I told her. I ended up saying that I hadn’t seen her since she left but that I saw her car, which looked dented and damaged. I was anxious and hoping that my mom was okay, but it definitely felt better knowing that there were people looking for her. And that I wouldn’t be alone. The only issue is that my aunt lived far away and I would be alone for the rest of the day.

By then it was late in the afternoon and the sun was starting to go down. I considered going to Sam’s place, but it was getting dark and I was scared that I would lead whoever or whatever this person is to them. Clearly he had become violent. I called Sam and told him what happened, and he told me to stay over until my aunt arrived. I wanted to, but by that point it was dark out and I felt like I was being watched again. Sam kept telling me to head to his house, but I didn’t feel safe going outside. I knew it was out there. I could hear it walking around.

Then came the knock at the door, causing me to jump. My aunt wasn’t supposed to be here for another few hours. I checked through the peephole and didn’t see anyone. I grabbed a knife and drew the curtains, but I can still hear him walking around. My aunt will be here soon so I’m hoping he’ll go away once she arrives. But I’m also scared that he might hurt her. I can’t call her and say ‘there’s a clone of me that might hurt you,’ so I’m trying to figure out what to do. I’m hiding in my closet just to be safe, but I’m really hoping he doesn’t get inside. I wrote this out in case I get killed before my aunt arrives. If anyone knows what this thing is or how I can get rid of him, please help me. The knocking is getting louder and I think he’s trying to break the door down.