Doppelganger

The burden of the past and our former being is always… suffocating. I find myself looking at the other me, the one who follows me everywhere I go. I call him my doppelganger. He lives across every window, behind every mirror, within my own shadow. I love looking at him, he is so beautiful at times, but some others he is just there to remind me of everything I’ve done and everything I haven’t. It is always a shock to see him, always a disappointment; there is always a hint of sparkling hope in his eyes, a brief and smart suggestion for me, and even a bit of pain knowing I will most likely, never get to be the one he wants me to be.
I hate him; I tried to kill him once. It was during one of those dark nights, the kind of nights in which I can not sleep, when I am afraid of everything. One of those nights in which a candle glows afar just to remind me that he is looking at me just as much as I am looking at him. It scares the living shit out of me. I got up from my bed, fully awake, fully dressed, and more than a little angry and scared. I went to him, to the moon mirror in the center of my room. I looked into his hopeful eyes and he dared to stare back at me. Shameless little bastard he is sometimes. I started to get angrier and angrier by the second. I told him to turn away from me, to leave. He echoed my words back at me, the little asshole. I blushed furiously out of sheer hatred and he blushed embarrassed. He was mocking my every move, every intake of air I took, he mimicked. I shouted at him and he kept on the poor imitation of my every gesture. Tears of anger started staining my face and he wept, sorry to make me feel bad. I know he loves me as much as I love him. I know he hates me as much as I hate him. I smashed the mirror. I made quite sure there was not a piece left hanging form the golden frame. My hands bled, my eyes wept, my mouth kept uttering high pitched sounds of anger. My lungs felt empty, my veins felt vacuumed, me eyes felt dry. I felt so abandoned. I was so relieved to finally be rid of him.
When I looked at the blood scurrying from my hands at the floor, there was still him there, a million tiny versions of him. A him in every piece of shattered mirror, every one of them bloodstained and teary eyed. A him in every single breath I took. A him in every tear falling freely from my eyes. Soon, there weren’t any tears left to cry, not a breath left to breathe, not a word left to say. I found myself lying next to him in the floor. I felt so lightheaded and even a little relaxed. My hands were bleeding so much. I had never felt so close to him. He whispered into my ear to get up, to stop the bleeding. Soon there wasn’t any blood left to bleed.
He shook my shoulder and I awoke. I had fallen asleep without knowing and now he was standing right next to me, brighter than ever and it seemed to me that much more solid looking than before. I got up and I felt so good, for once not feeling angry at him. He took my hand and started crying. I heard distant noises, aloof cries and what sounded like weeping, but we were all alone. He held me close to his chest. I couldn’t hear his heartbeats and I wanted to show him my pulse. I remembered how filthy and covered in blood I should be, but I wasn’t. I was all clean. I looked around and I saw my own room, my mother hunched upon something on the floor. I tried to look at it, but she was covering it protectively, keeping me to see what it was. He told me not to look. I had never heard his voice before. It was a fake version of my own voice, as deep as mine, but hollow. My mother was crying. I could see her shoulders shivering and I could hear her sobs. I wanted to hold her but he wouldn’t let me go.
My mother got up, releasing what she was holding. It was me, drenched in blood and surrounded by shattered mirror pieces. My doppelganger took my other hand, and still crying, led me away from the scene.