Watch Your Step

T̸w̸i̸t̸c̸h̸ [ep. 10]

Lying on his bed, Rod hears a grumble in his stomach. He thinks of saying sorry to his mother because he didn't give her a chance to explain. Maybe he was too cranky because he just woke up. He stands up and casually opens his window. When he looks in front of him, his breathing rapidly increases. His eyes bulge at the sight of it as if a gun is pointed at him. 

What he sees now is himself in his neighbor's window. It was not his reflection but a replica of him, not a statue nor just a refraction of light but an imitation of him with flesh and body. When he tries to blink, it brings the world around him to a standstill, how clones are usually surprised in movies when they see another clone of them.

They stand there, in their box of their windows, looking at each other for what seemed like hours. He pinches his slinging arm while he waits for it to do something, maybe it is really his reflection. Then it starts to leer at him causing his mouth to twitch once and for all. "This is not right," Rod says "This is completely wrong, it's impossible." 

It has its own big brown eyes and upturned nose and a slight curve on the commissure of its lips. As he stares a little longer, the clone turns the curve on its mouth into a full coy smirk. Undeniably, Rod was utterly sure that it wasn't his reflection for he is obviously not smiling and only terror is on his face. His muscles tensed when it spoke, "You're the one who should've died."

Rod gulps as he fumbles words to say.

"She doesn't need you," it says, wearing a baleful smirk. Rod carefully pieces the words together.

"Who—what are you?"

But the clone keeps saying something that only makes his instincts plea to run away, "This is for our own good." Then menacingly its mouth forms a wider crescent smile as though it was mocking the way his face twitches.

Rod hears a crunch of car tires against the gravel outside. He and the clone both look in its direction. A door slams and he knows it's his mother, back home with her groceries maybe. Sunlight scans the wall in between the houses as they look at each other again. Without a signal, they race to the door of their room.

Surely, to Rod, it is a bigger house and he can't imagine how he would get outside first. "I won't make it," he runs as fast as his legs can carry him.

When he comes out of the house, the first thing he notices is the cedar tree that parted the yard of the house is on his left. Though it was what he expected on his right, only now it's the outspread moor. And there's no blue-faded wall at all or there is but he can see through it. Then his eyes lock on the car near the dead tree and in front of it is his mother hugging someone. She is crying and saying something. Her arms embraced around a boy with a sling for a bandaged hand, who's just the same height as him, the same pale color of his skin, his body, and his face. 

He had choices and he picked the wrong one.

"Mom!" cried Rod but he already knew that she couldn't hear him. He already understands.

He looks at the sky and it looks as if it has only two dimensions. And there are glimmering triangles of iridescent colors in its corners like a rainbow radiating from a prism. It spreads to the top of the barrier of trees over the road as if the sky joined the earth as if it's the edge of the world—his world.

He is certain that if he touches the transparent wall, it will feel like the cold, clear water of a lake and circular ripples of water will form on its surface, but above everything, it seems unbreakable.

"Ahh," Rod sighs presently, "this must be my punishment."

Calmly, he approaches the edge of the barrier of trees and touches the glass-like force field. He can now see that it encases him and the whole house inside a cube. Nearer to its border, it has infinitesimal shapes of kites and darts, a kaleidoscope of his memories. There is one where his family went to a picnic on a grassy field, their trip to Switzerland, and that...tragedy. He arranged the images like a puzzle until it coalesced to that one rainy night.

He turns around and the house that is supposed to be an old wooden house transformed into a white and well-kept house where the sign "Fletcher's Residence" is still standing and the garden is alive and flourishing with colorful plants. Then it suddenly turned dark and the rain poured inside the cube. But the most peculiar thing is that he can see right through the house as if it was sliced in half. There is still the couch and the carpets and the furniture...

There is also himself, already standing in the corner of the room—maybe another clone—or maybe this is just a replay of his memory. Where halfway inside the house is his father, holding a gun and pointing at his mother. Rod walks towards the house and goes inside without opening a door. He already knew what's going to happen.

At the first shot of the gun, he walks through the scrimmage happening in the living room. Everything is happening in slow motion, but the sound is as loud as ever. BANG! He removes the cast of his arm when the second shot is fired, as he figures out how it hit his arm. There is a struggle, a groaning, and a moaning. Now the gun is in his mother's hand and she says, "Rod, stay back." In each following time frame, he covers his ears with both hands and closes his eyes as the third shot explodes and makes a hole in his father's forehead.

At last, he enters his old room to look for something, it must have returned there, it must have perched itself on the old dresser where his father always left it for him to solve. And perhaps when he is forgiven, he can go back. Perhaps with both hands, he could fix it once again, before it was broken.