Doppelganger

January 13, 2008 at 10:12 pm · Filed under Short Stories

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-grayish 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. But, 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 pulse. Every beat and every throb aching with anticipation to know the identity of this person that I see 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 trapped. 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 bare. 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 concentration 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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Minukawa

January 11, 2008 at 8:07 pm · Filed under Short Stories

It was drizzling. I hurriedly walked down the street leading to my father’s house. I was about to cross the street when I bumped into a guy. I muffled an apology as I looked at him. I was surprised to see my old schoolmate, Seth. The last time I saw him was before he graduated from our alma mater. We did the catch-up bit for awhile before I told him that I needed to go home. I took a few steps away from him when I asked him if he wanted to come with me because it was my father’s birthday. He politely declined and promised to keep in touch.

As I turned around the corner, I kept thinking about the old times. Seth was four years my senior and one of the coolest guy in campus. He used to be my brother’s closest bud. He was everything I thought an older brother should be. And, when they had a falling out, I resented my brother for it, tho, I never really knew what happened between them.

The rain began to pour heavily. Fortunately, I was a few steps from the gate of my father’s house. I ran inside and got into the house. I looked at the receiving area and there was no one there. I headed to the backyard and there I saw my brothers with their girlfriends and some of our family friends happily chatting away and eating. My youngest brother acknowledged my presence by saying my name out loud and everybody looked my way. I nodded and smiled. I walked to my brother and asked where our father was. He told me that our father was in the living room. I was confused. I told him that I was in the reception area not a minute ago and didn’t see our father there.

My older brother joined our conversation wanting to know what was going on. I told him that I was looking for our father and couldn’t find him. He told me the same thing that our youngest sibling had told me. Sceptical, I backtracked towards the livingroom with my two brothers to prove to them that our father wasn’t there. When we reached the livingroom there was our father sitting comfortably on the sofa talking to a guy. I had no idea who the guy was for he had his back at me.

I stopped on my track. How could I possibly missed my father? He was a 6 footer guy. As I stood there stunned, my eldest brother whispered something to me that I couldn’t understand. I entered the room and greeted my father. The guy, my father was talking to, looked my way. I was speechless. It was Seth. He just smiled at me.

I asked Seth what he was doing here, but my father interrupted and told me that he had invited Seth. I asked my father how he knew where to contact Seth. But my father changed the subject and asked if I had eaten. I told him that I hadn’t and wasn’t that hungry yet. As I sat beside my father, I couldn’t helped but stare at Seth. He looked like Seth but something was different. He was wearing a different outfit than what I’ve seen him a few minutes earlier. There were a lot of questions that was roaming in my head, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask Seth.

I returned my gaze to my father. I asked him how he was doing. He told me that he was doing a lot better. I studied his eyes and he was actually saying the truth. I was worried because he had been in and out of the hospital for a couple months. Two weeks ago, when I last saw him, he couldn’t even get out of his bed and hold any of his food down. And, because of that, his once sturdy physique became frail. Now, as I was sitting next to him, he looked great as if there were no traces of his failing health.

My father hugged me tightly. He whispered to my ear not to worry too much for he was doing much better. I couldn’t understand why the tears from my eyes began to flow freely. He told me that he was doing better. When he broke our embrace, my father wiped the tears from my cheeks and kissed me on the forehead. After that, he told my brothers and I that he was going for a walk. I protested that he couldn’t for it was raining outside. My dad told me that the rain had stopped. My brothers offered to accompany my father, but our dad refused. Instead, he declared that he wanted Seth to accompany him.

Seth stood up and I looked at him. He returned my gaze and smiled. It was odd. The way he looked at me, somehow flooded my entire being with feelings of melancholy and peace at the same time. I broke my eye contact with Seth when my father stood up. I was amazed that he could stand on his own without his cane or anybody helping him. As my dad and Seth left the livingroom, passed my two brothers and into the hallway, everything seemed to stop. Both my brothers stood there frozen and complete silences fell into the room but Seth and my father continued to move towards the door.

I ran after them and told them to wait for me. They stopped. Seth spoke and told me that I couldn’t go with them for it wasn’t my time yet. I asked him, time for what? Silence. I asked him who he really was. He told me that he was Minukawa. After saying that, he and my father stepped outside the door and slowly faded away.

I felt a hand touched my shoulder. I turned around and my youngest brother hugged me. He was crying. I looked at the sofa and saw my eldest brother embracing my father’s lifeless body.

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Clockwork

January 5, 2008 at 2:22 am · Filed under Short Stories

The day began like any other day.

She woke up an hour before the alarm clock was set to go off. As she got out of the bed, she lazily yawned and stretched her arms upwards. She slowly walked to the other side of the bed, knelt and silently watched her sleeping husband. Carefully, she placed her right hand on top of his bare chest as she lowered her left ear near to his nostrils. Her hand felt the beating of his heart and her ear could hear the light snores that were being expelled from his nose. Upon knowing this, she sighed.

She got up and dragged her small feet towards the bathroom. She flicked the lights on before getting in. Once, she was in front of the mirror, she sighed once again. She unhooked the straps of her nightgown and let it fall off her body.

In the mirror, she could see her naked reflection. Her once lustrious long black hair had become dull. The shine in her eyes were gone and dark circles were starting to form around it. Her lips seemed like the desert ground. As she cupped her breasts and touched her nips, a bit of liquid sipped out from her ultra sensitive teats that made her winced. With her hands trembling, she touched the scar from her C-section. As she felt the cicatrix, hatred was written all over her face and tears began to fall from her eyes.

Twenty minutes or so had passed before she stepped out of the bathroom, dressed and wearing her hair uncombed and still dripping wet. She looked at her sleeping spouse briefly before exiting the bedroom. Walking sluggishly down the corridor, she paused once she reached a door that was ajar. She pushed it open and looked at the crib where her new born son was. The toddler was sleeping soundly. She stood where she was. As she was holding the doorknob her hand began to tremble. Panick-striken, she fled the babyroom.

She composed herself when she reached the kitchen and tried to control her breathing and emotions. Immediately, she began another of her morning routines – preparing breakfast. As she was chopping the onions, she dropped the knife and found herself walking back towards the nursery. Once inside the room, she grabbed the pillow beside her baby and placed it on his face. The baby stirred and cried out loud.

The kettle began whistling. She almost jumped of her skin upon hearing this. She turned around and saw her newly awakened husband was entering the kitchen. She ran to him and hugged him as she poured out her grief of unspeakable act. She kept shouting over and over that she killed their baby. Her husband calmed her down and assured her that their son was safely tucked in the crib and was sleeping soundly.

After knowing this, she slumped onto the floor mortified of herself as she continued to bawl uncontrollably.

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