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Lana
Lana

2mo

INTP

Cancer

8
7

1 Award

Short Story - Doppelganger

They said they brought you back to life - and you believed them. You felt the strings that once formed the connection between you, and in the terrifying haze of being alive, the celebration and comfort they offered was easy to melt into. You were missed. You were loved. You are back. And you try so hard to be grateful, so hard to be the person that they insist that you are... but the reflection you see in passing is not your own. Your voice is timid, alien to your own ears, you passively accept stories of who you once were, and swallow down your dread in the face of constant reassurance: you'll remember soon, it's normal to feel confused, you just need time. But you can see it in their eyes, the way doubt begins to creep into their gaze as you react /wrong/, as you speak of things that you did... but not with them. Not in the life of the body you now inhabit. You aren't who they wanted. This isn't you. And it is a truth that grows heavier by the day. Necromancy is a fickle thing, a magic that relies on so many other arcane schools to be reliable... It wouldn't be hard to imagine the spell failing, a last resort to save their friend gone astray... but the cruelty of them accidentally chaining the wrong soul to this body made you feel ill. Who were you? Who /are/ you? Had you a right to remember? Would your "friends" accept this truth? ... Would they tear you from this body, taking away your new life, in hopes of trying again, to bring back a soul now long at rest? (edited)

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