The Face in the Closet
Submitted by: P.L. DuPee (http://whatisantilogic.tumblr.com/)
I awoke to the sound of my closet door slowly opening. The faint sound was only audible due to the absolute silence of the room. Despite seeing the door gradually open, I remained in bed, peering past my feet into the ever growing abyss beyond the closet. Inch by inch the dark gap increased, perfectly synchronized with my dread. Just as the tension threatened to overwhelm me, I saw a face.
I sprang to my feet, snatching the slender metal lamp from my nightstand, and moved towards the closet. Just then, the intruder rushed out at me. Instinctively, I swung the lamp, knocking him to the floor, but not before he was able to utter a short sentence. It wasn’t until his limp body lay on the ground that I was able to process his final words. “No, just wait a second.”
I should have never looked at his face, but I did.
Turning the light on, I rolled the man over and discovered two terrible truths. Staggered by my blow, his head hit the side of the dresser on his way down, killing him. His death however, was the least disturbing discovery. To my disbelief, the man lying dead on my bedroom floor was me. He had the same face, haircut, tattoo on his left arm, and even the small cut on his chin that I had given myself shaving the previous day.
Before I could think of a rational explanation, I heard a noise coming from the closet. Without thinking, I rushed to the door, wanting to meet any additional intruders head on. I found no one, but did find a waist high door at the back of the walk in closet. Foolishly I pushed it open and peered inside. There was a short hallway leading to another small room. I should have stopped there, but I pressed on, so desperate to find answers.
More confusion waited for me in the new room. The new room was a closet, but not just any closet, it was mine. At that point my fear triumphed over my curiosity, but when I turned to exit, I found that the small door had disappeared.
I took a moment to take a mental inventory of my situation. Maybe in a semi-dreaming state I had imagined the intruder, wandered into my closet and imagined the small door too. It made perfect sense, but doubt and confusion still plagued my thoughts.
Quietly, I tiptoed over to the door and pushed it open slightly. The room, faintly moonlit, coupled with my limited field of vision through the small door opening made it difficult to see what lay beyond. I pushed the door open a little more and saw a man, holding something metallic in his hand, aggressively approaching. Shoving the door open, I rushed out with my hands defensively in front of me. “No, just wait a second.”
Credits to: P.L. DuPee (http://whatisantilogic.tumblr.com/)
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