creds; blairdaniels
Someone broke into my house last night.
The police don't believe me. "None of the windows are broken," they said. "All the doors were locked. Nothing is missing. Why do you think someone broke in?"
But I know someone was in here.
Because I didn't leave four of my mugs on the kitchen counter. I didn't empty the junk drawer, leaving pens, binder clips, and broken measuring cups scattered across the tile floor. And I certainly didn't paw through the dirt in my miniature herb garden on the windowsill.
But the police were unwilling to help. There was no evidence, they said. What more did they need? Muddy footprints on the patio, a burglar's mask on the dinner table?
I did what any reasonable person would do.
I drove to Best Buy and bought a ton of security cameras. The fancy kind – ones that had night vision capabilities. Ones that recorded sound. When all was said and done, I'd spent close to a thousand dollars. That night, I installed the cameras. Two in the kitchen, one in the living room, a few outside the house, even one in my bedroom. It took me a few hours to get everything set up. When I was done, I collapsed into bed and fell asleep.
Rrrriiiing.
My alarm pierced the morning air. I pulled myself out of bed, incredibly tired, even though I'd slept for nine hours. After a long yawn, I finally headed downstairs.
I froze.
More things were out of place. The dining room chairs were pulled away from the table at strange, skewed angles. Entire cabinets were emptied on the kitchen floor, turning it into a minefield of steak knives, serving forks, and cheese graters. I stepped on the citrus reamer – "Fuck!" – and nearly fell headlong into the sink.
As I straightened myself, my eyes fell on the camera in the corner.
The cameras! I'd forgotten all about them.
I ran up the stairs, taking two at a time. I grabbed my laptop from the bed, plugged it in, and pulled up the footage that had been recorded. Let's try porch first. See how that bastard got in.
I clicked on the first clip of footage.
I saw the front of my house. White railing, wooden swing, thatched welcome mat. All as they should be. For a while, I didn't see anything. What tripped the motion sensor, then? I thought. The cameras only recorded footage when they detected movement.
Then at 02:04:31 AM, I saw something.
A shifting shape in the shadows. I held my breath, my heart raced. The burglar, I thought. I bet it's the teenager next door. With his smug little face and –
The shape walked into view.
It was a deer.
"Fuck you," I said to its grainy little image.
I clicked on the next clip. A moth of epic proportions, flying around the red light of the camera. The next. An opossum or raccoon, flitting across the front yard.
I clicked out of the Porch camera. My mouse hovered indecisively before I finally clicked on KITCHEN.
The kitchen camera had only recorded a single, fifteen-minute clip of footage. I took a deep breath, and pressed PLAY.
03:45:21. Some rustling noises off camera. 03:46:52. A gray shadow, slowly creeping into the edge of the frame. 03:47:03 AM. A head of dark hair, facing away from the camera.
I held my breath. Who is that?
The person walked further into the kitchen, and I gasped.
It was me.
The knotted bun on top of my head. The little images of cacti on my pajamas. Definitely me. Not even a question. But... how? Was I sleepwalking? I've never sleep-walked in my life!
As I watched myself crouch over the cabinets, a terrible thought crept into my mind. What if it's not me? Not really me? I've read accounts of doppelgangers, body snatchers. Even a crazy one about clones of people, growing like vegetables in the dirt. They were all far-fetched, and probably fake... but what if they were real?
What if it's not me... and just something that looks like me?
I paused the video, clicked on BEDROOM. There was a clip marked 3:42:25 AM. I pressed PLAY.
I expected to see myself sleeping peacefully. But no – a few seconds into the video, video-me threw off the covers, got out of bed, and walked towards the door.
So it was me.
I clicked back to the KITCHEN video. 03:53:10 AM – I was opening the cabinets. Then I threw pots, knives, and even that damned citrus reamer on the floor.
I suddenly broke into a fit of laughter. It was me! This whole time, I thought someone was breaking into my house... and it was me, sleepwalking! I even snorted when I saw my video-self step onto a pot and fall to her knees. Then I looked down at my leg, saw the purple bruise starting to form, and laughed even harder.
But then I stopped laughing.
Video-me was standing next to the window, peering outside.
And then I saw my lips move, as if I were talking to someone.
What the fuck am I doing? I squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the grainy, black shapes. But I couldn't tell what was going on.
At 04:01:35 AM, video-me pulled away from the window. She carefully stepped over the pots and pans on the floor, then reached into one of the cabinets. Then she stepped back. She was holding the spare key I kept in there, hanging from a tiny hook.
I watched as she opened the window wider.
As she called "I found it!" into the darkness outside.
As a strange hand reached in through the window --
And took the key.
