Missing shingles marked the passage of time. I rapped knuckles on a faded door, guts a-twisting. Would they recognize me and say: you’ve come back? Cry? Laugh?
"Coming!"
Pattering footsteps; then creaking hinges. My eyes widened. Not Mom. Not Dad.
Me.
"Oh, it's you.” they sneered.
Mind whirling, I sputtered, "I-who-how?"
"Cloning, my dear Watson. Hair plucked from your brush and voila: here I am!"
My knees buckled, then they were on me; hands crushing my windpipe and occluding vessels. Darkness descended, wrapping me in its funeral shroud. A cold voice—mine—filled my ears:
“There can only be one.”
About the Creator
N.J. Gallegos
Howdy! I’m an horror-loving ER doc/author. Voted most witty in high school so I’m like, super funny. Author of The Broken Heart and The Fatal Mind! Follow me on Twitter @DrSpooky_ER.
Check me out: https://njgallegos.com
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