It’s been almost two weeks since the incident. Ten days and six hours to be exact; all I can do is count the time. Someone knows I don’t belong, and I know they’re waiting for me to slip up on some small detail.
I had just gotten out of the shower when a rush of confusion hit me. It was like I hit my head on the corner of a counter, but I was still conscious and there was no pain. I felt...different. I called my girlfriend, Angie, to tell her how terrified I was about what just happened and she didn’t seem too concerned. She was busy at work, so I figured she was preoccupied and couldn’t focus straight. No big deal. She was able to calm me down enough to hang up and go about the night. I couldn’t remember much. I didn’t remember what happened that day, or even the week before. It’s all still a blur.
I decided to leave it be until the next day. Angie was asleep when I woke up, so I figured I had some time to relax. Except, she looked different. Not a haircut, no makeup, but not how I knew her. Her dirty blonde hair now had less blonde in it. Her smile didn’t shine like before. I knew she was different when she woke up...her eyes were darker. From a shade of green to brown. And above all else, she had this unsettling mood.
Not wanting to bother her, I went to my parents to pick up some mail. Mom wasn’t home, but dad was. Cheery as always, he hugged me when I walked in, and he was different. Slightly taller, slimmer build, and deeper voiced. Hey, he’s been working out lately and it seems to have paid off! We talked for a bit before mom walked in, and when she saw me, I watched her eyes grow wide as she stuttered through her sentence. She knew. I was terrified.
I didn’t bring up the incident, and after her initial shock, mom carried on. I could immediately tell her differences: she was shorter, her voice lighter, and her hair was a light brown compared to her almost-black hair from before. She had this unsettling stare towards me that no one else noticed. She knew that she couldn’t tell anyone. My dad and brother were thankfully oblivious to the heavy air that had settled into the house.
After the uncomfortable conversation, Angie texted me and asked if I wanted to go to her parent’s for dinner. I shot a quick “sure” text back, before saying goodbye to my parents and quickly leaving. Mom stared at me from the kitchen window as I pulled away. When I got home, Angie was watching tv and asked how I was feeling. If I would’ve been honest and told her, I probably would’ve been involuntarily submitted to a mental hospital. Who would believe anything I saw, if I told them? I told her I was feeling better, though I still couldn’t remember much. I brushed it off, hoping she wouldn’t push it too much, and she didn’t.
When we got to her parent’s house, they opened the door and welcomed us. Her parents had changed exactly opposite of mine: her dad was shorter, had put on a little weight, and lighter voice. Her mom was taller, voice deeper, and darker hair. After going inside, I felt so out of place. Her family went on about their day while I sat there visibly uncomfortable. Angie’s dad asked if I was alright, and I told him I was sore from work. The subject was dropped as we continued on with the night.
When we arrived back home, Angie went to shower as I sat down to really examine our apartment. Every piece of furniture, wall objects, and even the flooring had shifted slightly. It was here I finally realized it could be an effect from me hitting my head on something at work. The weird thing is, I hadn’t hit my head on anything in months. After Angie got out, I hopped in, hoping to reverse the horrible day.
Once out of the shower, I felt better and ready to forget the delusion I’ve been in. I laid down to the first rest that lasted longer than 4 hours, only to wake and realize I was still in this nightmare. My mother keeps calling me, asking me to come over for impractical tasks. She seems to be getting more and more adamant that I go over there whenever she is there. I agreed to go over the next day after work, just to stop the questions.
I got to my parents house and my mom was the only one home. Nervously, I asked what she needed help with. She told me something was going on with her stove and asked if I could help move it out, but once we got to the kitchen, she sat down at the table and asked me to join her. I slowly walked over and took a seat, she asked something disturbing. “Who are you?” It took me by surprise, I didn’t expect her to be so blunt with it. I paused for a moment before replying, “What do you mean?”
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