If The Price Sounds Too Good To Be True, Then It Is Too Good To Be True. I Learned That The Hard Way.

My heart started to thump in my chest like war drums. The me across the street laid his happy head back, rocking his feet back and forth. The sexy dark girl returned from the bathroom with something behind her back. She playfully approached and said something with a big smile. My counterpart laughed and bit at the air towards her, like a hungry wolf. The dark girl grit her teeth and without hearing it, I could tell she growled. She rounded the bed, her hands still behind her back. When her back was fully to the window, I could finally see what was in her hands. A knife. A big fucking knife.

“Woah, what the fuck? Hey! Hey!” I yelled in my own condo while I banged my palms on the glass. As if there was any chance the me over there could hear it.

The dark girl swayed a little more, then started to crawl up the bed. Crawl over the other me. She still held the knife behind her back with one hand as she ran her body over mine. Sorry, over the other me. She stroked his hair with her free hand. My doppelganger smiled and leaned in to kiss her neck. She whispered something in his ear, then brought the big shiny blade out from behind her back. She yanked his head back by the hair and slid the knife across his throat. The blood poured down in a wave from one side of the neck to the other. She quickly straddled him and began to stab. And stab and stab. I couldn’t see most of them, because her body was blocking a direct view. Thank fucking christ for that. But the blood. God, the blood just sprayed in every direction with each double handed thrust she made. It streaked across the walls, the furniture, the billowing white sheets. It painted thin, flickering red lines on the window.

The sight of so much of what was pretty much my own blood, coupled with all the Shiner in my gut caused me to rush to the kitchen sink and puke. I didn’t waste time to even rinse before rushing to my bedroom and grabbing my gun. Yes, I own a gun. A 1911. Another one of those things I always wanted and shouldn’t have spent that much money on. I had no idea what I was going to do. I should’ve just called the police, like any rational person would. Instead, I bolted out of my room in my underwear and holding a loaded pistol. I looked across the street again, and there was nothing. No red light or streaks of blood. No murder scene out of a fucking HBO series involving yours truly. Just a dark and apparently empty condo.

I sat in my own dark home, my recliner turned to the window. I had my gun in hand, thumb on the hammer. I sat like that for at least an hour after I saw that evil bitch stab me like it was getting her off. No lights coming on. No sexy dark girl cleaning blood off or tying up a bunch of trash bags. Not even a door opening and a momentary light from a hallway as she dashed out. Just motionless shadows and no sign of life. Finally, I got the nerve to turn away and put my 1911 down. I sat down at my computer and wrote this out. I’m losing sleep and I don’t know if what I’m seeing is real. I really hope I’m not going crazy. I can’t afford to see a shrink and pay for this place. I’m losing my shit.