Jack’s POV:
“Hi, Jack. It’s me. Did Mark call?”
“Oh. Hi, Felix.”
“You don’t have to sound that disappointed, do you?”
“I’m sorry. I just---I thought you were Mark.”
“I guess that means he hasn’t called.”
“No. I’ve tried his house about a million times. No answer. I guess they’re not back from upstate. I don’t know if that’s good news or bad news---I mean, about his father.”
“Are you ok? You sound really strange, sort of beyond tired.”
“I’m ok, I guess. No. actually, I’m a basket case. But what can I do?” I nervously tangled my drawstrings around my fingers.
“Do you want to talk?”
“No. I think I’d better leave my calls free. You know. In case Mark tries to call.” I glanced up at my desk clock. Eleven-fifteen.
“Ok. Well, hang in. i’ll come pick you up before school tomorrow morning.”
“Ok. Thanks.”
“Get some sleep.”
“Sleep? Oh. right. I’ll try.”
I hung up, stood up, and stretched. I’d forgotten about sleep. Sleep might not be a bad idea. It was certainly a good way to make time pass quickly. I turned off the lamp and climbed under the bedspread.
Of course, getting to sleep was not going to be easy, the room seemed to spin in the dark. I closed my eyes, but the feeling of dizziness didn’t go away.
Stop thinking, I told myself.
Stop picturing Mark. Stop talking to Mark. Stop all of the imaginary conversations.
How could I blot out the pictures that flashed in my mind, slow my racing pulse, stop the dark room from twirling so recklessly?
I conjured up clouds. Soft, billowing white clouds in a clear blue sky. I followed the clouds as they drifted slowly to the right, trailed by new, fluffy clouds, drifting, drifting, drifting. . . .
A loud tapping sound made the clouds disappears. I opened my eyes and sat up.
The tapping repeated. Two hard taps followed by three soft taps.
“Fuckin’ jesus!”
Someone was crouched outside my window.
“Mark!”
I jumped from my bed, tripped over the bedstread, and ran to pull open the window. He smiled at me, a shadowy smile. The moonlight caught the front of his raven-black hair, illuminating his anxious face.
“Mark, what are you doing up here? When did you get back?”
He dropped easily into the room. His arms went around me. He pulled me close. He felt cold, his sweater felt cold, even though it was a warm spring night.
After a while, he let go. I turned on the lamp. His jeans were dirty, probably from climbing up to my room. His sweater was torn down the front.
“I had to see you, Jack. I had to explain.”
I took both of his hands and pulled him over to the bed. “Sit down, Mark. You look tired. How is your dad?”
The question seemed to surprise him. He tossed a hand back through his raven-black hair, then shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, looking back toward the window. He looked more troubled than I had ever seen him. Troubled and exhausted.
“Will he be ok?” I asked. “Is he still in critical condition?”
Mark looked confused. “I don’t know,” Mark whispered. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I’ve been so worried,” I said. I was still gripping both of his hands tightly. They were so cold. I wanted to warm them.
But he pulled his hands away suddenly and stood up. He walked over to the desk, then back to the window. “I want to explain,” he said, balling his hands into fists, then unballing them and stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets.
He walked back to the desk, then took a few steps toward the bed. He was obviously very nervous. He looked as if he wanted to jump out of his body, to escape from it into thin air.
“What do you want to explain?” I asked softly, dreading what I was about to hear.
“You shouldn’t have gone into that jewelry store,” he said, his eyes glowing black in the dim lamplight. His whole face seemed to harden. “You shouldn’t have seen what you saw in there.”
“Ohh.” I uttered a loud sigh, a sigh of hopelessness, of complete resignation. “So it really was you.” my voice a whisper.
Until the last moment, until those last words, I had hoped against hope that it hadn’t been him in the jewelry store. But now he had admitted it.
It was over.
All over.
I slumped back against the wall, feeling too weak to sit up.
“Yes, it was me,” Mark said, moving closer, his eyes narrowed, staring coldly at me. “You saw me. You were there and you saw me. And now I have no choice.”
“What do you mean?” A chill ran down my back, a tingle of fear.
“I have no choice but to kill you.”
With a sudden motion, he picked up my pillow and pushes it over my face.
Using both hands, using all of my strength, I pushed the pillow away and stared up at him, my eyes pleading, my mouth twisted in terror.
“But why, Mark, why?”
“Because now you know my secret,” he said flatly. His voice revealed no emotion at all. Neither did his blank, unmoving eyes.
“Your secret?”
“Yes. Now you know that there are two of me!”
He pressed the pillow forward again.
“Mark, wait! Let’s talk! Let’s---”
He pulled the pillow back and stood up straight. “You know my secret,” he said, still revealing no emotion at all.
He snapped his fingers.
A second Mark, an identical Mark, suddenly stood beside the first Mark.
“You know my secret, too,” the second Mark said, his voice identical to the first Mark.
Both Marks raised their pillows and moved forward in unison to smother me.
I made no move to resist.
It was all over.
All over.
There was nothing to fight for, no reason to resist.
I accepted the pillows almost gratefully as they pushed against my face, two identical pillows from two identical Marks, blocking out the light, blocking out the air. . . .
I awoke with a scream in my throat and my pillow resting on top of my face.
What a horrible nightmare!
I looked around the room. It was still night. The window was closed. There was no one there.
A nightmare. I was shaking all over.
What was that noise?
My phone was ringing.
How long had it been ringing?
My heart pounding, my head throbbing, i climbed out of bed and picked up my phone. “Mark?”
“Don’t try to run away from me,” the muffled voice at the other end said, menace in every word. “You can’t get away.”
“Mark? Is that you?”
“You shouldn’t have seen me in the mall Saturday. Now you have to be punished.”
Word count: 1146. Chapter 14 might be two parts.