Doppelganger

“It has been said that if one encounters his doppelganger, it is an omen of bad luck and, in some cases, death.”  
                                                                                                             –Ancient Folklore

     I was seeing double by the time I stumbled into the driver seat of my Ford Escape.  The interior lights flickered on, allowing me a quick glance before I slammed the door.  My face was dirty, my hair was greasy and matted, and my jacket smelled of sweat and smoke.  My ears were strained by deafening pulses of hardcore dance music, and as for my vision, it was tainted by the flashing neon strobe lights, an epileptic’s holiday.  So without going into the details (I could hardly remember them anyway), it was a h--- of a party.

     It was so good, in fact, that I completely lost track of the time.  My radio clock flashed the time in bright blue: 2:50 a.m.  I muttered a string of curses under my breath as I turned on my headlights and sped onto the narrow country road.  I wanted to get home, but I couldn’t recall why I was in such a rush.  Maybe it was because the dark road creeped me out.  It was bordered by large oak trees with overhanging branches extending out and above the road, blocking the moon and stars, if there were any out tonight.  I thought it might seem like a beautiful road in broad daylight, with the autumn leaves falling gracefully down to earth on the road less traveled.  But at this hour it was frightening, which led me to apply my high beams.

     I leaned back in my seat a little, threw my stinky jacket in the backseat, and turned on my radio to break the silence.  Expecting a blast of heavy metal, I was instead rewarded with a steady emission of static.  That was strange.  I could’ve sworn it was working just fine on the way to the party.  Or was it?  Did I even take this road to get there?  I couldn’t remember, but it hardly mattered.

     After I had driven about five miles, I entered into a heavy downpour of rain.  It pounded on my windshield, like a drummer on a gong.  Anxiety with a touch of dread flowed steadily in my mind.  This road was already treacherous; it was even worse when it was coated in slippery rain.  Just one sudden slam on the brakes or a bit too much acceleration could send me crashing into the ditch below, the illuminating flames of my car the only source of light on this dark road.  I would be engulfed in fire, screaming at the top of my lungs, but nobody within miles to hear my cries.  I shuddered at the thought.

     By now, the rain had worsened.  I couldn’t see five feet in front of me; even my high beams were totally obscured.  Sweat poured down my face.  I’d never had to drive in rain this bad before, let alone on such a winding path.  Clumps from the steering wheel tore off as I held on for dear life.  This was unbearable: I had to pull over and let the storm pass.  There was no other option in my mind; it was either to sit in the car, warm and safe, or to lay in a ditch, dead.  So I turned on my blinkers and parked on the side of the road.  I reclined my seat all the way back and closed my eyes.  It took some time (and a lot of uncomfortable shuffling), but I managed to let sleep overtake me.

     I woke up thirty minutes later.  The early rays of dawn were beginning to slip through the cracks of the tree line.  The rain at this point was only a mere drizzle.  A cheer echoed in my head, but there was one thing I had to do.  When nature calls, you gotta go.  I opened the door and stepped out onto the sleek asphalt.  A frown formed across my face at the sight of the wet road, but at least I could see now.  I clambered down the ditch nearest me and began to maneuver through the trees.  I weaved and wobbled around the giants, going ever deeper.  I don’t know why I kept going further into the woods.  It was as if I didn’t want to take a chance of someone spotting me.  Yet the road seemed deserted, so what was I hiding from?  Nothing I suppose, but I felt on edge, as if I was being, well…..watched.  But I’m a pretty paranoid guy, so I disregarded my idiocy, completed my business, and began to walk back.

     As I got closer, I noticed that a fog as thick as pea soup had settled over the road.  This, however, was a better alternative than the rain I had slept through, so it really didn’t bother me.  But something else did.  When I cleared the ditch once more, I noticed that there was another car parked about ten feet behind me.  What was weird, though, was that it was the same car as mine: an olive green Ford Escape, and it even looked like the same year.  How odd, I thought.  Of all the cars that could’ve been out here in the middle of nowhere, it was one identical to my own.  I believed in coincidences, so I paid it no more than a few glances.  But where was the driver?  The car was off, and it looked empty.

     As if on cue, the driver’s door opened, and a dark figure stepped out of the car.  It appeared to be a man, judging by the jacket and pants.  His head was covered by something.  I stepped a few feet forward and raised my hand in greeting.

     “Hello there!” I hollered. The figure stood perfectly still, giving no indication that it heard me.  It was looking forward, as if it was simply staring at me.  The ominous silence made me uneasy.

     “Were you bogged down by that rain as well?  I didn’t notice any other vehicle.”  I began to move towards the figure, scared yet curious.  This was the only person whom I had spotted in the past fifty miles, and seeing someone else suffer through the weather made me feel a little bit better.  But still the man remained silent.  I could make out his hood from the jacket, obscuring his face from view.  The figure slowly tilted his head down.

     A few thoughts crossed my mind. Was this guy dangerous?  A thief?  A killer?  Has he been watching me ever since I pulled over?  No, I didn’t think so.  If he was a crook, he would have gotten me while I slept.

     The next thing I noticed that seemed strange was the license plate.  It was the exact same as mine; there wasn’t a letter or a number off.  How was that even possible?  No two people could have the same plate.  Well, maybe he was from another state.  Couldn’t two people have the same plate, as long as they were from different states?  But as I drew closer, I saw it was a Virginia plate like my own.  That was too freaking creepy.  Part of me wanted to sprint to my own car, lock the doors, and speed off; but the other part was still curious to know who this mysterious figure was.  That side surprisingly won.

     By now, I was only a few feet away.  I could reach out and touch him if I wanted to.

     “Sir, are you o-” I stopped midsentence, mouth agape.  He was wearing the same clothes I had.  That dirty brown jacket was an exact match to the one now tossed in my backseat.  As for those denim pants, I couldn’t be sure, but that hole just below the knee looked just like the one ripped in mine from an accident months ago.  My lips were quivering in fear.  Terror was rising in my throat.  My chest.  My mind.  There was no way…

     “W-WHO ARE Y-YOU?!”  I hollered.  I dashed forward and tossed off the hood.  The figure made no response as the hood fell back against his neck.  He slowly looked up.  I looked up.  I was facing myself.

     “You.”

     I let out a blood-curdling scream.  I did the same.  Everything went black.