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Split Part 7

Split Part 7

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Published by Jonathan Shuffler
This is the 7th part of my series "Split"!

Here is the link to part 8 http://www.scribd.com/doc/152159453/Split-Part-8
This is the 7th part of my series "Split"!

Here is the link to part 8 http://www.scribd.com/doc/152159453/Split-Part-8

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Published by: Jonathan Shuffler on Jun 25, 2013
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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07/07/2013

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Fear is a controlling entity. It tangles a person in a web of stinging, painful uncertainty.

Tendrils of doubt and discouragement crawl under the skin as fear whispers. At times I thought I could beat it. I would stand up and declare that today was the day that I would break free and celebrate my courageous victory. But it never happened. I would get as far as the door, and then cower. I only opened the front door when I needed food, because if I didn’t I would starve. Having it delivered to me was a weekly blessing, or a curse. It was a blessing because I didn’t have to leave the security of my apartment to gather food. It was a curse because there was no reason to leave. This may sound conflicting, but I really wanted to escape. I just couldn’t. I looked at the groceries by the front door. I knew that Speedy Sam’s grocery was for nursing homes and hospitals, but I needed food, and they were the only ones kind enough to deliver. Everything I needed was right here. All of my bills were paid here. I was paid for my books here. Web stores delivered other goods like clothing and novelties. My games that I used for relaxation were all downloadable. There was really no reason to leave. I stared at the blinking cursor on my screen. Nothing was coming to me. No words were forming in my mind to translate to paper. Staying here wouldn’t help anything. I got up and walked to the door, thinking about what had happened. Someone was stalking me. Who on Earth even knows where I live? I’m a creative recluse who lives in an apartment on the outskirts of the city bordering two other similarly stranded apartments. Would my own neighbors stalk me? No. They’d have no reason to, and I haven’t seen or heard anything from them in a while. Maybe they’d moved. Hopefully that was the case. When they were home, they were an obnoxious bunch of people who insisted on everyone knowing their personal business. I’d learned more information about them from hearing their arguments than I would’ve ever liked to. It wouldn’t be them. This person, whoever he or she may be, knows me. They couldn’t have gotten into my office. I have the key in my pocket. I put my right hand on my pocket and felt the sharp edges of metal. Yeah, so no one got in. I already checked earlier for breaking and entering. No sign of that either. I ran my hand through my hair, trying to think. How could that note have gotten there? It was a mystery, but one I didn’t feel like solving. I was tired from all of the hard work of writing, and the frustrations of my weird, disturbing dreams. Something still stuck with me though. It was more than just the cut on my leg from a few days ago, it was something more sinister. Everything seemed darker. I wasn’t dreaming, but moving around my apartment felt surreal, like moving through a flowing black fog. I wiped my eyes, but my vision wasn’t any clearer. What was going on? I walked to the bathroom. I turned the water on and cupped my hands beneath the faucet. The sudden coolness of the water was refreshing. My eyes focused on the mirror in front of me as cool water dripped down my face. Something was wrong. Two intense eyes stared back at me. They were focused, as if they were looking deep into my soul. I couldn’t turn away. Every expression I showed was reflected in the mirror, but the eyes were different. The reflection was more intense and aggressive, like it was ready to attack me from another world. It was like someone had taken over my body, and infused it with an intensity I could never understand. Why had I never seen this reflection before?

This was a different person looking at me. He had my body, but not my cowardice. I reached out to him, and he reflected my movements. Who am I? I asked myself. I leaned towards the mirror for a closer look, but he didn’t move. My body froze as I looked up at the reflection. It did not move. “Who are you?” I asked it in a quiet whisper. Its intense eyes looked down on my weary complexion. “I am who you should be.” The voice was mine but more forceful. It had authority that I could not grasp. My heart beat faster and my breath stopped. Little drops of water fell from my face into the sink as I stood still. Suddenly, the lights flickered. Within a brief moment, it was gone, and I saw my weary reflection staring back at me. It was gone, but something inside me wasn’t. I knew that something had happened, that I had unlocked something deep within me. My eyes searched the mirror, looking for the mysterious figure again. Nothing was there but my own, tired reflection. I wanted to see that face again. In order to do that, I had to become who I saw.

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