Doppelganger

"It's a real shame, man. I heard you were the best." His slight smile made me feel uneasy. Even more, anyway. When you're thrown into a dirt pit in the middle of nowhere with your hands tied, uneasy is an understatement.

"Please," I heave, "you have to understand." He didn't listen to me. He kept fixing up his facade. His clean shaven face was now covered in rough stubble. A moustache covered his top lip. It was only just smaller than my own, but he would grow it out. My chest rose and fell rapidly as I watched him turn himself into me. My desparation turned to fury. "They'll do it to you too, y'know!" I wheezed, "as soon as you fail, they'll come for you!" He wasn't bothered by anything I said. He turned and looked at me, a plain, nearly bored, expression on his face. It suddenly lit up like a christmas tree.

"How do I look?" He stuck his arms out to present himself. I huffed.

"Let me go."

"Yeah. You're right," he scratched the gristle on his chin, as if that would make it grow faster, "it's not the full picture. Is it?" He took a step closer to the pit and stuck his hand out. "The earring." He fixed my earring to his ear and looked himself up and down in his car window. The same flashy suit. The same hair, the same earring. He looked just like me. Only he wasn't tied up in a pit. I gave up fighting. I knew this would happen. I just didn't think it would happen to me.

"You know what I always wondered?" I could see his reflection fixing up his tie. "Who the first one was. Someone was the first. But then they failed, and..." He turned and looked at me with an amused smile. "Well, I guess you'll find out." I let out an exasperated sigh.

"Let's just get it over with," I said quietly. I stared at the ground, listening. His footsteps in the dirt. The rustle of his clothes. It was at the click of the gun that I closed my eyes.

"You already know what happens, though. Don't ya?" The wind filled the quiet. "Yeah," he said, his voice low and slow, "at some point you were standing where I am, and some poor larrakin was in a pit." He laughed. I took a deep breath in

...

and out

...

He continued, a chuckle still in his voice. "Yeah. You said somethin'. Didn't ya'? What was it?"

"Your story ended, so I will rewrite it." It was like an epitaph, that phrase. The last thing many had heard. And, it would seem, the last thing I would say.

"Yeah. That's it. That's the one," his tone was serious. He got down on one knee and I felt the hairs on his face as he leaned in and spoke softly into my ear. "And rewrite it, you shall." With that, he stood. I heard the rustle of clothes and the footsteps in the dirt. The sound of the car engine faded into the distance as I finally allowed myself to open my eyes.

And rewrite it, you shall.