I walked out my door, and downstairs into the living room. When I got down there, the whole room was cold. It felt like it was 20 degrees colder than my room. My dad was asleep in his chair, an infomercial playing on the T.V. The good news was that I didn't see myself anywhere, but the bad news, was that I couldn't help but wonder if I was going crazy. As I was standing in the living room, wondering about the temperature, and the past 10 minutes or so, the bathroom door opened, and there I was again, walking out as if nothing had happened.
When the Me coming out of the bathroom saw me standing in the living room, instead of freaking out, to my surprise, I attacked myself. Completely caught off guard, I was knocked to the ground. Defending myself against cold punches, and attempted headbutts, I was surprised at my own strength.
My father woke up from the commotion, coughing. He looked down on the ground where we had been fighting, and saw me on my back, on the ground, alone.
"Are you alright?" He asks with a concerned look on his face.
Thinking quickly, not wanting to even attempt to explain what had happened, I tell him "I'm alright, the cat just freaked me out, and I tripped. How are you doing?"
"I'm good, are you sure you're okay?" He asked again.
"Yeah." I said with a smile. "I'm just gonna hang out down here with you for a while." I said smiling back at him, trying to not indicate that something was terribly wrong here.
I wanted to know what was going on. I'd never been so confused, and curious, and concerned before. I couldn't even begin to imagine how to explain everything to my father who seemed to not know anything was going on. I began to wonder if it was really him I saw earlier in my doorway. At this point, I was all but convinced I was losing it. What "it" was exactly, I was unsure of. Possibly my marbles, possibly my wits, either way, things were happening that were out of my control, and for which there was no logical explanation.
The television was on, and I was staring at it with my eyes, but worlds away in my mind. I still felt jumpy. I finally started to calm down a bit, when I saw something move outside the back door. I looked out, and saw myself standing there, soaking wet. Why was I staring at myself through the glass? Why was my other self covered in water? Was I really seeing myself?
"Maybe I am going crazy!" I thought to myself.
"Dad, come over here and look at this." I said to my father who was sitting back in his recliner. "Look out the door, and tell me what you see."
He came over, and looked out the glass panes in the door. His reaction was anything but expected. As if inspired by the Gods themselves, he started praying. Although it was unfamiliar to hear my father address anything not of this world, his tone, and choice of words sounded as thought this were a prayer he'd recited his whole life. He was calm, and seemed very sure of himself as he prayed.
"Lord, bless this soul that it may enter your gates and forever be freed from this world where they do not belong. Father please lead this wanderer safely on it's journey home. May it see the light that leads the way, and not deviate from it's course. Let your love and eternal light lead this lost soul home. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit I pray. Amen."
Where did this come from? My father wasn't a religious man, and he hadn't set foot in a church so long as I could remember. Very shortly after finishing his prayer, in a very soft voice, he started repeating something. I couldn't make out what he was saying, I couldn't even tell if he was speaking English.
I could still see myself standing outside the window. I appeared to be breathing heavily. Seemingly refusing to breaking eye contact with Myself. The look on my face read of remorse. But what was I sorry for? Was The look on my face because I had just attacked myself? Or was it something else?
The only person who seemed to have any idea of what was going on was my father who I interrupted with a series of questions.
"do you know what is going on dad? Do you remember what had happened in my room earlier?"
When he turned and looked at me, something was very different about his face. I mean, his features were the same, but there was something, something out of the norm. I couldn't peg what it was exactly, but it was disturbingly unfamiliar. He looked at me with a blank stare, and said that I had to leave. He told me that he didn't care where I went, but that I needed to leave his house immediately.
"What's going on Dad? Why do I have to leave?" I asked.
"You don't get to ask me questions like that, you get to leave, NOW!" He replied angrily.
"I'm not going anywhere, and I don't know why you're talking to me like this." I said anxiously. I relaxed my tone and with a shaking voice I said, "Dad, I'm freaking out here. What is going on?"
He looked at me with disgust and said "Leave! Now!"
I started crying, I didn't know what was going on. Why was everything so different all of a sudden. Why was all this happening?
So full of questions, and emotions, I grabbed my keys, and headed out the door. I got in my car, and backed out of the driveway recklessly. The tires squealed, and then my Jeep jumped in the air with a loud thud. I'd just ran something over. I put my hand on my head, overwhelmed, frustrated, emotionally exhausted.
I ran my hands down my face taking in a deep breath. There was a lump swelling in my throat that caused me to swallow hard. As I took a deep, and involuntary breath in, I noticed that there was the distinct taste of blood in my mouth. I pulled my hands away from my face, and looked down at them in horror as I saw that they were covered in blood. Quickly I grabbed my rear view mirror and pulled it so that my face was in view. I was bleeding both from my nose, and my mouth. The acoustic version of Everlong by the Foo Fighters was suddenly screaming out of my speakers. Instantly I reached for the knob to turn the volume down. Instead of feeling the knob, I felt a cold, wet hand...
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