Phantoms

 My eyes burn beneath my eyelids. That’s the very first thing I’m conscious of. The next instant, a shock of white light hits my senses. I feel a jolt of panic in my chest.

One three-letter word flashes through my mind, even though I have no idea what it means: r-u-n.

I drag my parched tongue across my lips, slick with sweat. The dizziness forces me to pause, get my bearings. Red spots dance across my vision, stretching and fading until I’m met with another color. White. The word conjures in my brain. White ceiling, white lights, white walls. I list my head. Bizarre white objects there.

My trembly fingers curl against a hard, smooth surface. Then I lift my hand into view, blood pumping very fast. The skin is white, but… not white enough. Just a little off. It feels like a bad spot to the rest of my vision, a scandal.

I jerk as a quiet thud comes from my right. And another thud. A – a voice, very faint. A voice is not a good sign, no matter how distant it sounds. I’m not sure how I know that.

But if I don’t run, something tells me it will be very bad.

Without having to think, I swing my legs to the side and feel them dangle. I must be elevated off the floor. Weak with terror, I slide myself forward until they hit solid ground. But they only wobble uselessly when I try to leave my wall of support. Do they even work? Somehow, to be able to run I think they must…

I skid my right foot along the ground, to test it. Then the other one. Gaining confidence, I drag in a deep, soundless breath and survey the wall in front of me. There, the door. I’m supposed to run to the door.

This time my feet leave the ground and come back down, one at a time, as I move myself toward safety. Faster and faster. I almost forget to breathe. I can’t make any thuds by falling or bumping into something. That will not be good.

The door gives way when I lean into it. Outside, there’s more white, much more of it, and many more doors. I falter, catch the door as it swings shut behind me. Coming from straight ahead, a loud voice and muffled footfall. It’s closer. How can that be?

My heartrate skyrockets. A bead of sweat quivers over my eye. I can’t go forward. But which way do I turn?

I swivel back and forth, trying to make my decision quick. It all looks the same. After another second lost, I turn to the right and move that direction the same way I left the first room.

This second room is enormous, with doors on either side of it but none at the end. Will I be running forever? My legs now feel so heavy…

The quick tapping of footsteps echoes somewhere behind me. And the voice is now louder than ever, so loud I can understand the words it’s saying.

“Sir, it’s gone…”

“Well, find it! Search every corridor!”

Does that mean… two voices? And so many footsteps… the pounding hurts my ears.

A new, unpleasant feeling blossoms inside me in addition to fear. My heart seems to be sinking down into my stomach area. I think it’s despair. Because I know I can’t get away from so many footsteps so near.

Hide. The new word springs up, and I turn it over and over, digesting it. Hide, hide…

A brown splotch across the right wall comes into focus, and a smaller yellow splotch. I blink my eyes, but they don’t move. What strange colors to exist.

Running forward, I watch the brown splotch take shape into a door. The yellow thing beside it must be a sign. On it is little markings in a different color, black. Time slows down as I stare at the sign. The black lines must form letters, but which letters?

A shout around the corner brings me back. I lean into the door as before, but it stays solid. My stomach is now bouncing around in my throat. Maybe it’s… locked?

I step back, notice the round object jutting out of the mid-right of it. That’s when I realize my mistake. Of course, a doorknob.

The doorknob turns easily in my sweaty grasp, and the door gives as smoothly as hot butter. But I hesitate… inside is just a brown wall with sticks leaning against it, and dark. Like… like…

But maybe I’ll be safe if I’m away from all the white?

The sound of a nearby door swinging on its hinges makes up my mind for me. I whirl through the small gap, the door shutting me into blackness.

This room is so narrow the walls press on me on either side. I crawl backwards to the third wall, folding in my legs. Then I wait, feeling the need to squash my nose against one knee because it’s burning. Something smells very strong and bad.

It doesn’t take me long to realize I do know what this room is called… it’s a closet.

I feel my chest thumping as feet pound their way past my closet. A door opens and closes. I squeeze my eyes shut, calling in the darkness. A distorted voice yelling, several pairs of footsteps coming back this way.

They pass again. More doors. Then nothing.

I don’t move, resist the urge to even so much as twitch. There’s no noise, but I can feel them still out there…

I bite my lip and feel a pain.

Please don’t find me, please don’t find me, please don’t find me—

The door falls open an inch, and the white comes flooding back. I squint my eyes, penetrate right into the eyes of – of a human.

The human stares right back at me, but he doesn’t react. He looks around the closet, once, twice. As if he can’t see me, as if we didn’t just make eye contact. His gaze roves to my face, or through my face, and he closes the door once again.

“Nothing,” he calls, and I listen to his retreating steps.

The air tastes thick, the air left behind by the human.

I’m – I’m invisible.

It takes most of my remaining willpower to leave the closet after that. My only comfort is knowing I scraped by my encounter with a human because he didn’t see me, but what if I only can’t be seen inside the closet?

This time, my instincts tell me nothing. Hoping against hope I really am invisible, I massage feeling into my legs, and fall out into the exposed white room.

I take off running. My legs feel stiffer than before, and I furrow my eyebrows in concentration. There must be some safe place bigger than a closet. There must be more than run and hide.

Finally, the white room comes to an end. Two white doors right next to each other, what could be on the other side…

But next to those, another brown door with a doorknob. A yellow sign with words beside it. My heart leaps a little, and this time not from fear.

This door opens just as easily as the last. But this time, it’s not a dark closet I’m facing. It’s myself.

I know because my mouth drops in horror, and so does the human’s in front of me. A new feeling rises in me, curiosity. I shut the door firmly and walk straight toward myself… and we both reach out and knock on glass.

Of course, it’s a mirror. I stare back at myself, still slack-jawed. My face is almost as pale as the white walls back in the room where I woke up, and… and I have a whole lot of hair on my head, all very white… my eyes are – are pink.

Amazed, I can’t seem to tear myself away. So, I’m not invisible to myself… I wave a hand in the air to make sure, and so does my reflection.

And a mirror must mean… a bathroom? I glance downward and discover my brain had been thinking right. I turn one of the knobs on the sink and water gushes out, flowing over the whole bowl with a loud spurting. Horrified, I jam it back the other way.

The air changes behind me. This time when I raise my eyes to the mirror, there are two of me.

An audible gasp leaves my throat. I gasp at the noise I made, and gasp again, even louder now so I’m nearly screaming.

“Shh!” The second me puts a finger to his lips, and I realize it’s not me at all. It’s another human, and he sees me.

I really do scream this time… I have a voice… and turn to face him, backing myself into the sink as far as I can go, the edge cutting into my back.

He reaches me in two paces, finger still on his lips, now holding the finger to my lips to silence me. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to save you.” The face that’s my own, but also not, smiles then. Unable to move, I widen my eyes.

“I thought I might find you in here, after finding you in that closet,” he continues in a very low whisper. “I think we’re safe for now, so I can fill you in…” he glances over his shoulder.

He’s the human that opened the closet, but he only pretended to not see me? My mind buzzes. I don’t remember what the human looked like, so it’s possible—

“Okay, here it is hard and fast. You’re a clone.”

He removes his finger from my mouth, and my lips open. They form the words “a clone?” but no sound comes out.

“Yes, you’re my clone, so basically, you’re me. We’re in a laboratory right now. And I’m trying to save you because the scientists – the scientists messed up. You’re a—” He seems to be struggling with words now. “Well, you’re supposed to have my memory. And you’re technically not supposed to exist so they want to destroy you. Anyway…”

He’s talking very fast now. “I couldn’t let them kill a living human like you, I mean, who cares if the only thing you don’t have is a memory? But no, they have to get it perfect.”

I gape at him, thinking he must feel very weird talking to a version of himself. I feel weird. My gaze travels past him to the door.

“Don’t worry, I made sure they’re all out looking for you somewhere else. We just need to find a way to sneak you out of here…” He presses his already white lips into a thin line, thinking.

More questions roll around in my brain – what even is a clone, anyway? – but I refuse to make a sound.

“Okay, I have an idea, but you have to pay really close attention!” His eyes search for mine, so I’m forced to look at him. He seems to be waiting, so I give him a nod.

He beams. “We’re going to change clothes, okay?”

I stare blankly, look down at my clothes. A white jumpsuit.

“You got that?”

We switch clothes, me changing into his red shirt and brown dressy pants. I have no shoes, so he gives me his own, a pair of loafers. They fit perfectly.

“Now,” he says, seemingly satisfied, “you’re going to walk out this door and through those two big doors right outside. If anyone stops you, I’m hoping they won’t but just in case… tell them Billy needs you and you can’t talk. Then look for a blue truck with a goat sticker. You know what those are?”

I squint, nervously rocking up and down. Blue… truck… goat… I nod.

“Okay, it’s in the corner of the parking lot in front of the bush. You should see it when you go out. Then, unlock it and get down in the back then wait for me. I’ll be right after you, but probably wait a little bit first to avoid suspicion.

“Hold out your hand.”

I hold it up, palm flat, and he lays a key and keychain on it. “Don’t relock it, unless they’ve sniffed you out. Got all that?”

I nod again, the nervous feeling worming through my gut. But I’m also gifted with a feeling I’ve never had before – purpose.

“Go on,” the other me whispers encouragingly. I start forward, and pause, looking down at the white jumpsuit he’s wearing.

“Oh, yeah…” he follows my gaze. “Don’t worry, I’ll find something to cover it. I’m more worried about you.”

I shrug my shoulders, and try my luck with a smile. And with a great deal of courage, I leave the bathroom.

I feel my courage waning as I sprint toward the double doors. I’ve never felt so exposed after all that time in the bathroom.

They launch open at my slightest touch, and I find myself outside the laboratory. I blink in amazement at the colorful parking lot. The roars of engines ring in my ears. But even more amazing, I discover the outside of the laboratory is not white, but brown, with tall, tinted glass windows.

“Sir!” A voice. My heart plunges.

A tiny, balding man is trimming the hedges at the front entrance. “What are you doing out here?” he says curiously.

For a moment, my tongue freezes to the roof of my mouth. My brain thrashes for what I’m supposed to say. This is it. I’ve blown it. They’re going to kill me, and—

My eyes fall on a blue truck parked in front of a massive bush. The only bush besides the hedges. There’s a goat sticker on the back window.

“It’s Billy,” the words tumble out of my mouth. They actually feel natural.

“Oh!” the man looks worried. “Is she all right?”

“Yeah, but she needs me! I better go.” I even wave goodbye as I dart to the truck, my heart now soaring at a new height.

A button on the keychain unlocks the truck with a click. Checking over my shoulder, I watch the man go back to his hedges and I duck into the backseat, crouch on the floor.

Alone in the truck, I listen to my heart pound rhythmically. That wasn’t so hard. Now I just have to wait for…

A piece of paper sticks out of the pouch on the back of the front seat. I pull it out by a corner, careful not to make too much noise. It looks like a document, but the print is tiny. I scowl at it, trying to remember how to read. I’ve been remembering more and more words now, it shouldn’t be this hard—

I can make out a few letters, but trying to identify each one and sounding it into a word is too tedious, and all the letters start blurring together. I clench my jaw tight, now glaring at the document, and I’m able to pick up a few of the words though they don’t make much sense strung together. Clones… phantoms… humans… replaced…

Upon further scrutiny, the most I’m able to deduce is that the clones are being called Phantoms, and they’re replacing the humans. But what does that mean, exactly?

An odd feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. If I’m really a clone…

Against my better judgment, I sit up in my seat to see out the window. Across the busy street, there are so many humans. Eating ice cream or walking a dog. So some of these people are only like ghosts? Maybe even most of them?

I shudder, and turn sharply at a loud rap at the other window. It’s the man at the hedges, only now he’s staring in at me and tapping the glass. I shove down my panic, bravely tap the button to roll the window down. “Shouldn’t you be—”

I stop, staring at the front entrance. The man is still working at his hedges. But he’s also right in front of me. I feel the blood leave my face.

“Sir, are you sure you’re all right?”

I gulp in a breath. “Of course, I just dropped my—my—”

He raises his eyebrows.

Oh, now I’ve done it! I can’t hide the moment of panic. My limbs shake, my brain searches for words when the first man at the hedges gives a shout. “It’s the fluke!”

His clone at the window turns and chases… me in a jumpsuit. I bite my lip. Come on… come on…

He swerves out of the parking lot and out of sight. The two identical men shout for a few moments longer, then run inside.

I sit rigid on my seat, and at least a minute passes before he sneaks out of the bush and dives in his truck. “Get down,” he murmurs, shutting the door quietly and pushing his foot to the floor the instant his truck fires up.

“We don’t have much time.”

“You let them see you, didn’t you?” I ask, apprehensive.

“I had to,” he glances in the rearview mirror as we speed down the road. “I think we’re safe, they wouldn’t follow us. And yes, they call you a Phantom.” He makes a left turn.

The truck is quiet until he makes another turn. “I’m dying, you know.”

He says it as casually as if he were just going out to eat. “But it’s okay, we should have enough time to get you ready to replace me. And I kind of like that this happened now that you’ve escaped, it’s less weird and it feels like you’ll actually make a good friend.”

He’s smiling now. And I agree. A friend, as far as I know, feels so much better than a replacement.