The Sim-ilar Archive Of Every Double Ganger

CHAPTER 10

The minute  I reached my room after the collision with my body double, I collapsed.

I did not collapse in the same way as most would think. I collapsed in the way in which my mind exhausted after exploding, blanks out.

My brain goes into a coma. And that is a different kind of high.

I call it a “zone”

Ways in which a “zone” is different from the “ cold"

1.) The “cold" is plotted and planned.
2.) The “zone” creeps into my mind like sleep does.
3.) I need the “cold” in my life
4.) I need to get rid of the “ zone"
5.) But I miss the zone.

When it is within me I want it out of me. Like the vomit does not leave. We know it will be easier when it is gone.

But nope it doesn’t escape us.

And when it is out of me, flying around in the air deciding on another prey, I miss it.
All I want is to feel that again.

That rush, that breathlessness, that unshakeable shiver.

I close my eyes at times and I try my best to recreate it.

Try to imagine a situation where I would feel that. And then I put myself right in the mind of that situation.

I am a menacing person. I am cold. I am dark. I am creepy by normal standards.

A lot of my brain knows how to shut it all out.  To shut out the darkness.

But when I want it this bad, I can’t let it get away from me.

How can I feel so much craving for something so dark? I never do understand me.

I am hiding a lot of little people in me.
And that’s when the real fun begins.
When they decide to pounce out.


I lay on my bed, still in the random position I had slept in.

I looked like an apocalypse had come knocking at the door, asking for sugar and I had told it to fuck off.

I looked like my soul had tried climbing out but had snagged on the edges.

My edges were sharp. I attempted to cut an apple with the edges my eyes held.

I realised that it was morning. Great I had missed one and a half meals.

Now I would have to resort to some Pav related delicacy.

My brain was still muddled.

But I had to get out.

I had a hasty bath. I put on whatever clothes I could see.

And while I was going about my normal morning routine, I was spinning.
When I put my shirt on over my head, I shut my eyes for a second and went somewhere else all together.

When I bended down to tie my laces I felt the blood from my head trickle somewhere internally like sand from an hourglass.
I did not know why I was still going.
When I looked at my phone for the time, I saw one end of my phone merged with a copy of it’s own.

I saw 4 and a half phones and I could feel my eye drooping.

I had no idea what was up with me but I had to go.

Go where. No idea.
Go how. No idea.
No idea at all.

I walked out with the relatively finished supply of food in my stomach.

I opened the door and the sun entered my soul like it always does.

I walked down the stairs and on to
the road.

I could feel all of my senses exchanging locations.

I could hear from my mouth. I could see from my ears.

And that was the last thought I processed as I spun around myself it’s shown in movies.

And I crashed.

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I woke up to a man knocking on my brain box.

I wanted to open the door and address him, but there were too many security locks.

It took me a few seconds of awkwardness for every one, for me to figure out what went wrong.

He was a 30ish man with kind eyes and a perpetually bothered face.

He did not look like someone who ratted you to your parents.

He helped me up and I ran away thinking that any muddle is better than having them catch up to me.

It was a mess. My head was a mess. Everything inside of me resembles the mess left behind after the building had collapsed.

All I could do was sleep .

I had slept for a day, but my brain was not ready yet.

I had to let it figure it out on it's own like a misunderstood child with a cut on it's leg.

I had to let it sleep.

I had to let myself sleep.