A Different Identical (One Shot)

The Story

It was the break of dawn when the phone woke me up, the voice on the other end asking for Charlotte Brown. That was just the beginning. Who knew it would pull me in a world full of chaos.

"Is Miss Charlotte Brown available?" asked the caller.

"No she died two years ago." I replied confused as it was too early for my mind to work.

"Well, Miss we have been tracking her records for a while now and it seems she was spotted on the streets of New York last week" the person answered.

The phone fell from my hands. How was this possible? I was there that night I saw it happen. I was present when her casket was lowered into the ground.

"Miss hello? Are you there?" I quickly picked the phone and voiced my doubts. "How can you be so sure? Who are you anyway"?

"I am Officer Jackson and I'm speaking from the police department of Long Island." This cannot be happening." Miss would you like to come down to the police station to answer a few questions?"

"I'll be there."

The information had woken me up far better than any coffee would have. After freshening up and getting dressed, I headed towards the station. Eight thirty, that's what the time on my dashboard read. I sat there thinking whether I should go in or not. What if it was all a misunderstanding? What if they had the wrong person? I shouldn't simply get my hopes up. I removed the keys from the ignition. I headed towards the main door and asked a guard for Officer Jackson.

"This way Miss." He said and led me through a corridor with tiny rooms where lots of activity was going on. It seemed that it was more busy than usual. The guard took me to an Office at the end of the corridor and knocked on the door.

"Sir, someone's here to see you." said the guard.

"Send them in Alex" called out Officer Jackson.

I entered the room and took in my surroundings. It was a medium sized room with a desk behind which stood a man about 40 years old. He had brown hair which were greying, a small moustache and seemed rather tough looking.

"You must be Miss Phoebe, who I spoke to today regarding Charlotte Brown." He smiled and shook my hand.

Finding myself speechless, I just smiled and shook my head. "Please have a seat" he gestured towards the chair and sat down behind the desk. He put on his spectacles and peered over some papers and then looked up at me.

"So you are telling me that Miss. Charlotte has been dead since two years?" He asked.

"Yes sir, I was very much present when she was buried." I replied slowly.

"Can you tell me how she died?"

I gulped trying not to remember those days and the memories that came back with Charlotte's funeral.