Free The Doppelgänger: A Psychological Thriller by P. Wish

groceries.
    She ran out of the bus.
    She ran past the houses and trees. She ran until she was somewhere he wouldn’t find her. The sky was dark. Moonlight illuminated her form. Her mind overflowed with thoughts. Thoughts were lined with horror.
    Memories replayed like flashback scenes from an old movie. She screamed until there was no more air left in her lungs. She shouted and groaned like she had fifteen years ago. She never wanted to go back there. Never.
    Before her brain could make the connection, her fingers were on her phone, texting Brian. She distanced the phone from her eyes and read the message.
    Delete it. ASAP.
    Darcy pressed ‘send’. Some sanity returned to her after the message was fired off. The phone beeped seconds later.
    Done
    Darcy refreshed the page. The post was gone. She sunk to the ground. He wouldn’t have seen the post. He wouldn’t come for her. If she was lucky.

Chapter 7

    Darcy looked at the library suspiciously. It was empty. She removed her pair of sunglasses and shoved them into her bag. She took slow, calculated steps toward the staircase. There weren’t many students in the library. She crept up the staircase to the common room.
    Darcy checked herself in the mirror. The spectacles were gone. Her dark hair was strawberry blonde. Black contact lenses. Baggy clothing. She smiled at her portrait with satisfaction. Not even her brother would recognize her.
    “Is that you, Darcy?” Susan remarked. She was the first one to come in that morning. Susan’s grey hair and penetrating grey eyes matched.
    “I couldn’t recognize you,” she went on. “You’ve never had blonde hair.”
    “I wanted to try something new,” Darcy said, hesitantly.
    The door opened. Jillian walked in. She hung her coat on the stand.
    “Who is that?” she asked, leaning closer to Susan.
    “It’s me.” Darcy said.
    “Wow! Darcy, is that really you?”
    Darcy nodded.
    “You look so…different.”
    “She wanted a change.” Susan put in.
    “Blonde suits you.” Jillian said.
    “Thank you,” Darcy said, in a low voice.

    Fading twilight was swallowed by darkness. Darcy walked into Chicago L station at 7:30 PM. The vibration of her ringing phone sank into her skin. She dug into her coat pocket and pulled it out. The loud sound of train engines distracted her.
    A packed train stood at the platform. She squeezed herself in before the doors closed. The train moved. The ring died.
    The buzz of strangers was a background music to her thoughts. She saw people listening to music, staring at the window, talking on the phone, reading, chatting with friends and staring at her. Mostly, staring at her. She turned away.
    She stopped by the convenience store on her way home and bought some groceries.
    The temperature was lower than it had been earlier in the day. Her stomach rumbled. Darcy tore a bag of potato chips open and tasted the saltiness. The sodium revived her tired mind. She ate until she finished the bag. She dunked the empty wrapper into the nearest dustbin and walked over to the entrance of her building.
    She heard faint footsteps. She turned. A shadow extended form the base of the tree to her feet. She inhaled sharply. Darcy’s footsteps hastened. She walked noisily. Her eyeballs strained to catch a glimpse of the person who was following her.
    She dug into her pocket. Her hand fell on the phone. She pulled it out and stared at it.
    Low battery. Exactly the two words she didn’t want to see right now. Darcy’s footsteps hastened, fueled by panic. She stopped when the reached the front door.
    Somebody stood behind her. From the back of her eye, she saw the stranger’s blue coat. Her iris dilated. She dropped the grocery bags. Startled by the rustling of grocery bags, the stranger moved closer.
    Blue eyes. His small blue eyes examined her. They were framed with crow’s feet. He was old. Old enough to be-
    She dropped the grocery bags. The milk carton broke. A stream of white milk flowed. She didn’t