The Doppelgänger: A Psychological Thriller Read Online Free Page B

the marble floor. Her clothes gripped the carpet. Dust stuck to her skirt.
    “I-I’m fine.” she told the security guard who reluctantly backed away. She took three deep breaths before standing up. She picked up her bag and hurried through the slippery corridor, into the washroom. She closed the door, jamming it shut with her leg.
    Darcy stood in front of the mirror, oblivious to the sound of running water. Her eyes turned to her reflection in the mirror. She held her head in her palms and took a deep breath. Her heart sank.
    Fifteen years. Fifteen years later, he had the same effect on her. She felt the heat of his spiteful glare and pictured his crooked smile. The thought of him made every particle in her body vibrate with hatred.
    She painted a smile with her pink lipstick. She buried the lines in powder. She didn’t look like a ghost anymore. She rehearsed her lines and made her way out the washroom.
    She walked to the staff common room and made herself some coffee. It slid down her throat. She felt life return to her cold body. Her blood was warmer, her brain calm and her senses sedated.
    She deserved a normal life. That’s why she had come to England. America was unsafe. She nibbled on her fingernails subconsciously.
    The long, winding corridors of the asylum flooded her mind. Eternal darkness descended over the lonely building.
    She stared at her reflection in the mirror and sighed. Her mask was cracking. She didn’t want to go there again. She closed her eyes and rested her back against the wall.
    The blog.
    Of course, that’s how he found out.
    It must’ve been the blog.
    He knew she was writing those posts. He knew who she was. He knew everything because of the damned blog.
    She closed the tap. The sound of flowing water ceased. She looked at herself. She needed to find out. She needed to know how the author knew about her life.

    The train arrived at 7:02. Darcy stepped into the train. She noticed her heel got stuck in the gap between the train and the platform. She pulled it out. As she did, her heel broke. The train doors closed. She examined the broken shoe. Was it a premonition? 
    Darcy limped home. The messy apartment was as she left it. She reminded herself to vacuum once again, in vain before she changed into her pajamas and pulled out a piece of naan bread from the toaster. She sat before the television with the food in her hand and turned it on. The loud football commentary killed the silence. Her neighbor uttered a few loud words, startled by the sudden noise. She turned the volume down.
    Her phone rang. She answered.
    “Hey sis, how’re you doing?” It was Dan, her brother.
    “I’m good,” she said. “How’s the job search?” 
    “I’m sorry, I-” she began. Dan had been looking for a job for almost two months and had found nothing. She didn’t want to pressurize him. “If you-”
    “I got a job!” he announced.
    “Really? Wow.” Darcy remarked, setting the bowl of food aside. She turned down the volume.
    “And you won’t believe who hired me.” he said.
    “Who?” she asked.
    “Ambrosia.”
    Darcy dropped the phone. It fell on the carpet. The faint football commentary went on in the background.
    “Hello?” she heard distant echoes of her brother’s voice. “Sis? Are you there?” 
    Darcy picked the phone up. She pressed it against her ear.
    “Yes,” Darcy said, trying to regain composure. She gulped. Her eyes trailed across the carpet to the television. “You got a job at Ambrosia?”
    “Yes. It’s been my dream to work here.” be continued, oblivious to the escalating tension.
    “Ummmm.…”
    In thirty years, Darcy had mastered acting. That was the only way to get through life. When one mask began to crack, she quickly put another one on. The transition process had gotten smoother over the years. 
    But her acting was useless when it came to her past. It wasn’t her past. It had become her reality. She was still living in that dark asylum.
    “Thank you,”