Short Stories Collection

37. The Stranger in My Home

The plane touched down with a jolt, and a mix of excitement and nostalgia surged through me. It had been five long years since I last visited home. Work had kept me away, but now, with a promotion and a hefty bonus, it felt like the perfect time to surprise my family. Little did I know, the real surprise was waiting for me.The taxi ride through my hometown was like a journey back in time. Familiar streets zipped past, each one a snapshot of my childhood—old hangouts, favorite spots, and finally, our house. The same charming two-story with a white picket fence and an overgrown garden greeted me, a relic from the past. I could almost hear my mom's laughter and smell her famous pot roast wafting through the air.I stood at the front door, suitcase in hand, and rang the bell, a grin spreading across my face. Footsteps approached, and my heart pounded with anticipation. The door swung open, revealing my mother. But instead of the joyful reunion I expected, she looked at me with confusion, not recognition."Can I help you?" she asked, her voice polite but distant."Mom, it's me, Alex!" I said, my grin faltering. "I decided to surprise you guys!"She frowned, glancing over her shoulder nervously. "I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong house."My stomach dropped. "No, it's me. Your son."She shook her head, her eyes wary. "My son is inside, having dinner with us."Panic clawed at my chest. "What are you talking about? I'm Alex Andrews. I just flew in today."A shadow fell across the hallway as my father appeared, his face a mask of confusion and concern. "What's going on, dear?""This man says he's our son," my mother replied, her voice trembling slightly.My father's eyes narrowed as he looked me over. "Our son is inside. I think you should leave."Desperation made my voice waver. "Please, just let me in. There must be some kind of mistake."My father reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. "I'm calling the police.""Wait!" I pleaded, a surge of panic making my voice louder. "Just ask him—ask this 'son' something only I would know."My father hesitated, then called into the house, "Alex! Come here, please!"Footsteps echoed down the hall, and a young man emerged from the dining room. He looked exactly like me—same height, same build, even the scar above his left eyebrow from a childhood accident. My breath caught in my throat."What's up, Dad?" he asked, his voice eerily familiar."This man claims to be you," my father said, gesturing towards me.The other Alex looked at me with a mix of amusement and pity. "Sorry, buddy. But as you can see, I'm right here."A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. "This is insane. I am Alex Andrews. I can prove it!"My father eyed me warily. "Alright, tell me something only Alex would know."I racked my brain, then blurted out, "When I was ten, I broke Mom's favorite vase and blamed it on the cat. You grounded me for a week."My father's eyes widened in shock, but the other Alex smirked. "That's true. But what he doesn't know is that I confessed to Mom the next day. She forgave me and said she'd talk to you. She never did, though."My mother gasped, tears filling her eyes. "How did you know that?"The room spun around me. "Because I'm Alex! This doesn't make any sense!"The other Alex stepped forward, his eyes darkening. "Listen, I don't know who you are or why you're doing this, but you need to leave. Now."My parents' expressions hardened, and I realized I had lost. Numbly, I turned and walked back to the taxi, my mind racing. As the car pulled away, I glanced back at the house—a place that was supposed to be home but now felt like a stranger's dwelling.That night, I checked into a nearby motel, determined to get to the bottom of this nightmare. I called Lisa, an old friend who still lived in town. She agreed to meet me, her curiosity piqued by my frantic tone.At the diner, Lisa listened intently as I recounted the bizarre encounter. Her eyes widened in disbelief.
"That's impossible," she said, shaking her head. "I just saw you a few months ago.""I know," I said, my voice hoarse. "But that guy... he looks exactly like me.""Have you considered the possibility of a twin?" she asked, half-joking.I shook my head. "My parents would have told me. There's something else going on here."Lisa leaned in, lowering her voice. "There are rumors around town. People have been talking about strange things happening. Disappearances, people acting weird... Maybe it's connected."A shiver ran down my spine. "Like what?"She hesitated, glancing around as if to make sure no one was listening. "There's an old lab on the outskirts of town. Supposedly, it was shut down years ago, but some say there's still activity there. Weird experiments and stuff."I clenched my fists. "I have to find out the truth."The next day, Lisa and I drove to the abandoned lab. It stood ominously against the gray sky, surrounded by overgrown weeds and rusted fences. We found a way in through a broken window, the interior dark and musty.As we explored, we stumbled upon a room filled with monitors and files. One file caught my eye: "Project Doppelgänger." My heart raced as I skimmed the contents—details about cloning and memory transfer. My name was listed among the test subjects."This can't be real," Lisa whispered, her face pale."It explains everything," I said, my voice hollow. "They cloned me, transferred my memories... and placed the clone in my life."We gathered as much evidence as we could and left the lab, my mind spinning with a mix of horror and determination. I needed to confront my parents again, to show them the truth.
Back at the house, I banged on the door. My mother answered, her expression wary."What do you want?" she asked, her voice cold."Please, just listen to me," I begged, holding up the file. "This explains everything. They cloned me. The person inside isn't your real son. I am."My parents exchanged a glance, then reluctantly let me in. The other Alex was there, his face twisted in anger."This is ridiculous," he spat. "You're just some crazy imposter.""Look at this!" I shouted, thrusting the file at my father. He took it, his eyes scanning the pages. Slowly, his face turned white."My God," he whispered. "It's true."The room fell silent. My mother started to cry, and my father looked at me with a mix of shock and sorrow. The other Alex backed away, his confidence faltering."What do we do now?" my father asked, his voice trembling.I took a deep breath. "We expose them. We make sure this never happens to anyone else."Together, we left the house, a united front against the twisted reality that had torn our family apart. As we drove away, I glanced back one last time, determined to reclaim my life and bring the truth to light.With Lisa's help, I began to piece together the story of Project Doppelgänger. The files we had taken revealed a sinister plot: a secret government experiment aimed at creating perfect replicas of individuals. These clones were meant to replace people in strategic positions, ensuring loyalty and control. But something had gone wrong—some of the clones had begun to develop their own personalities, their own desires.The more I learned, the more I realized that my clone—my doppelgänger—had likely been living my life for years, while I was kept away, busy with work. The thought made me sick. How many memories, how many moments had been stolen from me?As we dug deeper, we discovered a list of other clones and their originals. It was chilling to think that there might be more people out there, just like me, unaware of the double living their life. The implications were terrifying.Lisa and I decided to go public with our findings. We contacted a trusted journalist, someone who could help us bring the story to light. The process was nerve-wracking; we had to be careful, as we didn't know who we could trust. The people behind Project Doppelgänger had to be powerful and connected.The night before the story was set to break, I received an anonymous tip: a meeting was happening at the old lab, a gathering of the project's masterminds. Lisa and I decided to go, hoping to gather more evidence and maybe even confront those responsible.As we snuck into the lab, the place was buzzing with activity. Scientists and officials moved around, discussing plans and reviewing documents. It felt like stepping into a hornet's nest. We hid in a corner, listening and recording everything.Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out. It was the other Alex—my doppelgänger—addressing the group. He spoke about the project's success, the advantages it had given them. My blood boiled as I listened. He was so comfortable, so assured in a life that should have been mine.Unable to contain my anger, I stepped out of the shadows. "You think you've won?" I shouted, my voice echoing through the lab. "This ends now."The room fell silent. The other Alex turned, surprise flickering across his face. "You," he hissed. "You should have stayed away.""You're not me," I said, my voice steady. "You never were. And now, the world is going to know the truth."Chaos erupted. The officials scrambled, trying to contain the situation. Lisa and I made a break for it, the evidence in hand. We managed to escape, barely, as security forces swarmed the lab.### The AftermathThe next few days were a whirlwind. The story broke, and the world was stunned. Project Doppelgänger was exposed, and the fallout was immediate. There were investigations, arrests, and a public outcry. The government's involvement in such a dark and twisted experiment shocked everyone.As for my family, it was a long and painful process of healing. My parents struggled with the reality that the son they had loved for years was a clone, while I struggled with the memories and experiences that had been stolen from me. But we faced it together, determined to move forward.My doppelgänger, the other Alex, disappeared. Whether he was taken by the authorities or went into hiding, I never found out. But I couldn't shake the feeling that, somewhere out there, he was still living a life that should have been mine.In the end, I reclaimed my life, but it was forever changed. I became an advocate for transparency and accountability, working to ensure that no one else would have to go through what I did. It was a small comfort, knowing that I had made a difference, but it didn't erase the scars.Looking back, I realized that the true enemy wasn't the clone, or even the people behind the project. It was the system that allowed such things to happen, unchecked and in the shadows. My fight was far from over, but I was ready to face it, armed with the truth and a resolve that had only grown stronger.As I walked down the familiar streets of my hometown, I knew one thing for sure: no matter how many twists and turns life threw at me, I would always fight to hold on to my identity, to the things that made me who I am. Because in the end, that's all we really have—our sense of self, our memories, our truth. And no one, not even a perfect copy, could take that away from me.