Capgras

A Story by Seventh

I woke with her in my arms, our legs intertwined. The alarm cried out and startled me with its tone. She rose first, she always did. The sun peeked through the curtains, illuminating the room with a teal hue. Drowsily, but happily, she stretched. She was always a morning person. As I was fixated on her figure, I couldn’t help but shake an unsettling feeling. I felt as if I had spent the night on a friend’s couch, something I did very often during college. But here I was, in my own bed. I laughed it off as my mind recovering from last night. With the amount of partying, a friend’s couch is probably where my body expected to be. But that’s when I first noticed it. As she bounced out of the room, I caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror. Her reflection, something wasn’t right. Her eyes, her sparkling blue eyes; they didn’t sparkle, they pierced. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stared at the frayed carpet. I simply dismissed it. Smiling, I drug myself over to the bathroom mirror and peered into my own eyes. They were a dull brown compared to hers. Shaking away my grogginess, I followed the allure of noises being made in the kitchen.

She was bending down getting something from the fridge, her dirty blonde hair tied messily in a ponytail. But once again, something was off. Her hair was angelic strings of gold dragged in and caked with mud, twisted into mats of pure and dirt, and finally washed, letting the two meld. Her hair embodied the purity that life had stolen away. But now, those remnants of purity were no longer there. The blonde was there, but it was merely a die. This hair was nothing but dirt. The sound of the fridge closing brought me back. I watched her hips sway as she walked to the countertop. But the motion was too smooth, she swayed awkwardly and offbeat. This motion was rehearsed. It was practiced. She thumbed around, busying herself with a morning routine. But I had become aware of her inconsistencies.

“What’s up with you?” I asked frankly, still unsure of what I was thinking. She spun around, her head tilted to the side as if to say that she didn’t understand. Her eyebrows arched.

“What do you mean?” she responded, looking me up and down. Her voice stung me. If I had my eyes closed, I wouldn’t be able to recognize who I was talking to. This only added to my suspicions. Without explaining myself, I quickly threw on my clothes and headed out of the house. I had to leave. Slamming the door behind me, I gazed up to the sky. I was surprised at the shade of blue I was seeing; it reminded me of a water painting. I scoffed at it. Not even the outside world alieved me of my confusion.

The steering wheel felt fused to my hand. I had unknowingly been gripping it so hard my palms were blood red and my nails stabbed through the skin. I let go and felt a wave of relief. Looking out of my windshield, I was shocked to discover that I was still sitting in my driveway. I hastened breath began to pick up even more, I suddenly felt vulnerable. I couldn’t even remember if I had gone to work, or how long I had been sitting there. It felt like an entire day of my life had been ripped away from my memory. I opened the door and walked back to the house, stopping at the front door. I shakily reached for my keys and desperately tried calming myself before I went back inside.

Stepping through the door, I only hoped that this time it felt like it was supposed to. I closed the door shut as she stood in the hallway, completely still. Her figure no longer looked enticing, now it seemed foreboding. The lavender walls seemed to entrap me. I broke the trance and heading to the bedroom, skipping whatever meal she was preparing. I had lost my appetite.

Several hours later she came to join me. I sensed the reluctance when she climbed into bed. Her body felt cold and detached, her presence chilled me under the warm covers. What’s happening? The hum of the air conditioning urged me to sleep, but I could not find the courage to shut my eyes. I stared at the ceiling for hours, if I dozed off a few times or not, I can’t recall. Eventually the sun emerged, the alarm echoed, and the room became illuminated with a turquoise color. I felt her roll around and face me. I met her eyes and was immediately caught off guard. Expecting her usual captivating gaze, I was instead shocked to see mischief. Her smile attempted to lure me to apathy, to ignore the feelings I harbored. Fortunately I was strong enough to avoid falling prey to these mind games. Her smile dissolved to disappointment when I retained my reserved demeanor. She slid of the bed and snaked her way out of the room. The movement was sinister. I was speechless. Then I became terrified. That was when I came to the decision that it wasn’t her anymore. It couldn’t be. The dirty hair, piercing eyes, mischievous gaze, synced movements; it was blatantly obvious. I was disgusted by my foolishness.

Everything stopped when I heard my name being called. It was a whisper as loud as a scream. The smooth carpet startled my bare feet, but I was too distracted to think about that. Hesitantly, I walked out of the room. The off-white walls seemed to mock me. The perfectly positioned couch, the trees outside that lacked the beauty of nature. Is any of this real? I stood at the entrance of the kitchen; the wide hallway behind me only magnified the dread that thickened the air. It was there. Sensing me, it twisted around; its face convulsed to form a sickening smile.

“You still sick?” her voice seemed to drag out the s like a hiss. An internal war began raging. Should I let it know I’m on to it? Should I play its game and wait until it’s vulnerable? My head pounded harder than my heart.

Finally deciding, I replied, “Yeah. I’m fine. I don’t know what was wrong with me yesterday.” I let out a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound too empty. I couldn’t let it get suspicious. It wrapped its arms around me, I did my best not to vomit. It felt so much like her. I missed her. What did it do to her? “I’m not going to work,” I said. If it responded, I didn’t hear. My ears were ringing from the rush of emotions. So many thoughts collided, so many fears exposed; I didn’t know how to control all of it. Half of me wanted to lash out and kill it, but the other half wanted to cry and beg for her back. I decided to let it torture me for now, but when the time came I was going to get her back.

I spent the day watching it, looking for mistakes and vulnerabilities. As my eyes grew keener to its mistakes, I was able to pick up a lot that it did wrong. It vacuumed silently, she always hummed. It played soft rock, she listened to R&B. It spent an hour on the phone, but I could tell there was no one on the other side. It was a master of deception, but it didn’t know I was watching its every move. The day passed quickly, too quickly. I remembered what had happened in the driveway the day before. Has time been deceiving me too? How long as it been since I found out the truth? I couldn’t remember.

As night came, I witnessed its body language get more and more hostile. It no longer tried to mimic her bouncy movements. It simply moved efficiently, like a predator hunting its prey. Several times I caught it just standing there, staring at me. I locked myself in the bathroom for hours just to escape its menacing face. It was plotting something. But still, I had to keep acting. If this change in behavior was simply my paranoia, I couldn't risk revealing my knowledge too soon. Her life depended on it. I confidently got in bed, turning the opposite way so my back was facing it. As I tried to fall asleep, I heard it roll over to face me. It seemed to inch closer and closer with each passing minute. Every breath felt hot on my neck. I could feel its eyes wide open. The room was silent and it was deafening. It knows. I felt its eyes get closer and closer.

I ripped out of the sheets, swung around and screamed, expecting it to pounce. But she was just sitting up, concern on her face and confusion in her eyes. I almost cried out with joy, I wanted to hug her and never let go. She climbed across the bed and rose swiftly in front of me. But my relief quickly faded. It stared right back at me, its face pressing up against mine. I realized too late that I had fallen victim to another one of its tricks. I returned its gaze, and by the look on its face, I knew it knew. I raced to the closet and dove on the ground to reach our safe. I fumbled with the combination, desperately trying to hold my fingers steady. The revolver inside, a housewarming gift from my grandfather, was stored inside. When it realized what I was doing, it roared. “What are you doing?!” it screamed, its voice sounding demonic. I grabbed the weapon and aimed for its chest, half-expecting it to continue the assault. But instead, it nosedived into a dramatic act. It backed away, begging and pleading. It cowered to the floor, crumbling in a heap on the bedsheets strung across the floor. It asked why. It cried false tears on fake blushed cheeks. Its eyes regained her color, its hair found her purity. But this time, I knew what it was doing. In a fit of rage, I jumped on it, sobbing uncontrollably myself.

“Don’t do this!” I yelled. It played dumb, choking out that it didn’t know what I was talking about. This only angered me more. My head was spinning, it was trying to use my greatest weakness against me. I will not let it win! I struck it over and over again with the revolver, letting out all my anger and confusion and disgust. Its cries did not deter me. I was consumed with rage, blinded by vengeance. “WHERE IS SHE?” I screamed over and over again. “I want her back!” Then, I stopped.

I looked into her eyes, her sparkling blue eyes. I hand my fingers through her dirty blonde hair, I saw her captivating gaze. I finally understood. It didn’t replace her. It was inside her. She saw the change on my face. She grabbed my shirt collar and pulled me closer. “Please…. please,” she whispered. I began to sob again. Her eyes deflated me. All the rage, anger, frustration; it was drained leaving nothing but sadness and defeat.

“Okay,” I whispered back. I wasn’t sure if I could do it, but the look in her eyes gave me strength. She was relieved, her body began to relax. I had to do it for her. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. All of her pain and suffering, I had the power to take it away.

I closed my eyes, and I saved her. Maybe that was what it wanted. Maybe that was its goal the whole time. But the only way to save her was to let it win. So I let it win.