My Missing Shadow

Not many people would buy a one-way ticket across the country just because of a nightmare. A sane person would’ve ignored the horrors in their head and gone back to bed. But I couldn’t sleep until I figured out whose frightened eyes called out to me in the dark. Several flashes of images had stayed with me: ripped fishnet tights covering bloody knees, tied feet, dense forest, and a sign that said “Welcome to Robbinsville”. In the glow of my phone, I typed in Robbinsville. Two towns came up in the search bar: New Jersey and North Carolina. Immediately I knew the forest in my nightmare easily matched the landscape of North Carolina and I bought my ticket.

Now here I was on the early morning flight to Knoxville, Tennessee where I had a car rental waiting for me. Then I would drive two hours to the small town of Robbinsville, population 578. The entire flight was spent googling missing person reports in the area but nothing came up. Still, I didn’t waiver in my decision. I had had nightmares before but none of them this visceral. They were real, like I was right there watching it all happen. If they were a premonition, then maybe I could stop them from happening. And if they had already happened, I hoped I could stop things from getting any worse. The girl, in her 20s maybe, like me, was so scared. Something inside me screamed that I must take action.

As I drove into the Smoky Mountains, I got a sense of how vast it was. Endless miles of yellow birch and Eastern hemlock trees lined the road along with winding rivers and lakes. Eventually, I made it to town. I quickly got a feel for the place based on the restaurant names alone: “Roy’s Nutz & Buttz,” “ Southern Gals Country Cooking,” and “Chubby Chicks.” It was your stereotypical Hicktown, USA.

I was out of place. Dyed black hair with pink framing my face, piercings, tattoos, and all-black attire. Not sure I would be going incognito in whatever kind of investigation this was turning out to be.

My first stop was the Graham County Sheriff’s Office. If someone had gone missing, they would know. On the car ride, I practiced what I would say: “I’m Lydia Thompson. I flew out here from Portland, OR. I think I might have some information about a missing person.” I said it over and over in my head as I entered the building.

An officer at his desk was on the phone and put up his finger to signal me to wait. But then he did a double-take.

“Holy shit. We found her. Mandy just walked in the door. Get your butt down here.” He stared right at me. “I’ll be damned. Tell you what, she looks a lil different so just be prepared.”

He hung up the phone and ignored the puzzled look on my face.

“Noah’s been worried sick about you.”

Shaking my head, I had to force the words to come out. “I think you have me confused with someone else.”

The officer got up from his desk and started to approach me. “You’re Mandy Endelson.”

“No,” I blurted. “I’m Lydia Thompson. I flew out here from P—“

He cut me off. “This some kind of joke, Mandy?” He went back to his desk and grabbed a photo. He brought it over and held it out to me.

There was a photo of a girl in her 20s, with blonde hair, blue eyes and… the same face as me. It was a photo of me—doctored up to change my looks. Though I used to have blonde hair.

“Where’d you get this? How did you know I was coming?” My body lurched towards him, angrily. Fucking cops knew everything these days. Who knew what your phone was recording? Could they really have tracked me buying a flight and rental car and that I had searched for Robbinvsille? My mind was racing with possible explanations.

The cop studied my face. I studied him back. He was short and fat, with a full head of light brown hair. His eyes narrowed. “Noah gave it to me. I didn’t know you were coming. We’ve been looking for you all day.”

I didn’t know who Noah was. The officer had called me Mandy and was looking for me. Was Mandy the missing person?

“Is Mandy missing? I’m Lydia.”

Grabbing his belt buckle, the officer said, “Are you wanting me to believe that you’re not Mandy? You’re Lydia now?”

“Listen to me,” I barked. “I’m Lydia Thompson. I just flew here from Portland, Oregon because I had visions of a girl in trouble. I think Mandy might be the girl. I just don’t understand why you have a photo of me and you’re saying that’s Mandy.”

Suddenly, I heard the door fly open behind me.

“Mandy!” A voice yelled. I swung around to find a stranger searching my face. “Mandy, oh my god!” He threw his arms around me. “What have you done? You scared me!” He went to kiss my face and then immediately backed away. “You’re… you’re not… who the fuck are you?”

This was all starting to feel like a Twilight Zone episode.

“Unbelievable,” Noah bleated. “Absolutely unbelievable.”

I picked at the fries on my plate, catching him staring at me. “I’ve never had any siblings. I don’t see how it would even be possible that we’re related.”

“You’re almost a clone of her. It’s uncanny.”

The server at Deb’s Diner came over to us. “Noah, you need anything else?”

“Just the check, Deb.”

Oh, it was her diner. I hadn’t realized.

“I hope you find Mandy soon. Crazy you found her twin sister.”

Deb laughed, but Noah and I didn’t. We didn’t know yet what we believed.

Noah pulled out his debit card and gave it to Deb. “I got this.”

I could’ve argued with him but something told me it was easiest if I didn’t.

“Thanks.”

“There’s a motel down the street or since you’re family, you could stay with me.”

Noah’s green eyes had golden rings around the pupil. He was handsome—albeit with a rugged look to him. His hands certainly showed the wear-and-tear of physical labor.

“I couldn’t impose. I’m sure the motel is fine.”

“It can be a little sketchy. I’d feel safer if you stayed with me.”

Just then, I had a horrible thought. What is Noah was the person who tied Mandy up and was keeping her in his basement? I hadn’t seen that person in my nightmare which meant it could’ve been anyone.

“I’ll give the motel a try.”

A moment of silence passed between us as Deb dropped off his card.

“You said you had a nightmare that led you here. What exactly did you see?”

I was dreading this question. The last thing I wanted to do was come here and cause more panic but I knew that was a possibility.

“Just flashes of a woman in a panic. She’s scared, in a windowless room. And then I saw the Robbinsville sign.”

“Christ. You think she’s been abducted by some psychopath?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “My visions could be wrong. She could turn up any moment.”

“But what are the chances that a dream would lead you here and that you’d look exactly like Mandy?”

“I find it as strange as you do.”

Noah was right. The Motorway Motel is a dimly-lit, dingy building with several people sitting outside in tank tops smoking cigarettes. I check in and immediately lock the deadbolt upon entering my room. For a moment I sit on the floral-pattern blanket on the bed and stare at the wooden plank walls that remind me of the 1970s. They’re dinged up pretty bad and I can’t imagine what these rooms have seen over the decades.

I eventually fall asleep in my clothes and awake suddenly from another nightmare. It feels like a continuation of the one from the night before: Work boots crunching leaves, chains dragging, a girl struggling. I deduct they must be in a house or building in the woods where the ground is dense with leaves.

In the morning, I text Noah I had another dream and he invites me over.

Stepping into Mandy and Noah’s home feels like a punch to the gut. Immediately I clutch my stomach in pain.

“Are you okay?” Noah asks as he leads me into the living area of their small home.

I shake my head. “Something’s wrong.”

“What is it?” He rubs my back, which would normally startle me but there’s an authentic, established connection between us that can only be explained by my connection to Mandy.

“Mandy’s hurt. I can sense it. He’s hurting her.” I try to stand straight but another pain moves through my stomach and I wrench forward.

“Who’s hurting her, Lydia?”

“I don’t know.”

Finally, the pain subsides and Noah makes us tea.

I tell him about my dreams. He jumps up out of his chair when I tell him about the work boots and he begins pacing the room.

“I’m a construction foreman. It could be any of my guys.”

“Is there any that have met Mandy?”

“All of them. We get drinks after work and sometimes Mandy comes out.”

I close my eyes and try to to establish a psychic connection with Mandy. I have no idea what my abilities are or what this connection is we seem to have. I pose the question in my head: Who is it?

I don’t get an answer.

“Do any of them live in the woods? That’s all we have to go off of.”

“Mark does. He’s got a cabin out near Cheoah.”

Before I can even say anything, Noah grabs his keys.

“Let’s go,” he says opening the door.

We ride in his truck down Sweetwater Road going way too fast for my liking.

“Can you slow down?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just can’t believe this son of a bitch would ever hurt Mandy.”

I lightly touch Noah’s shoulder trying to ease his nerves. “We don’t know anything yet. We’re just investigating.”

Noah nods, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Shouldn’t we tell the Sheriff and let him investigate?”

“I can handle it myself. I’ve got guns in the back.”

Oh, dear. I suddenly had found myself in a scary situation and didn’t know what to do but there was no turning back now.

We pulled onto a dirt road and then drove down a long dirt driveway. In my view, there was a cabin-type house a few hundred feet away. The truck came to a screeching halt and Noah hopped out. As I opened my door, he was already on his way to the front door—rifle in hand.

“Noah!” I called out.

But immediately after trying the front door and seeing it was locked, Noah took his gun and pointed it at the lock. BANG! The gun went off and the door shot open.

I was frozen still. A part of me wanted to stay in the car but then a powerful discomfort swept over my entire body and I sensed something.

“He’s here!” I called out to Noah. He looked back at me and then disappeared into the cabin.

“Fuck it,” I said as I hustled over to the front door. We were going to find Mandy and I had a strong feeling she really was here.

Then I heard two shots. Not one. Two. If Noah had used the first round on the door, and then a second round towards the perpetrator, then that means the perpetrator also shot at Noah.

Without thinking I ran inside and immediately saw Noah on the ground and a young man in his 20s holding a pistol. Every nerve in my body told me to hurl my bodyweight at this man to knock him down and knock him down I did. The gun fell to the floor and we wrestled to grab it. With all my strength I reached my arm to grab it, then turned it towards him, closed my eyes and fired.

I didn’t want to open my eyes. Was I to greet my own death or the realization that I had forced this man to meet his own? Slowly, I blinked my eyes open. With a gunshot straight to his head, the man laid dead in front of me. I backed away on all fours. Tears began to well in my eyes. I didn’t even know if we had the right guy.

And then I heard the yelling.

A woman was yelling from down below.

“Hello?” I called out. “Mandy?”

“Yes! I’m Mandy Endelson! Please help me!” A muffled voice proclaimed.

Rising to my feet, I looked around for an entrance to some kind of basement.

“The entrance is near the corner! I think he keeps it under some furniture.” Mandy directed me and I followed, looking everywhere I could. I pushed chairs out of the way checking the floorboards. Eventually, I pushed the couch out of the way and saw it—a latch on one of the wooden planks.

I unlatched it and opened the hidden door.

There in a dark basement, I made out the figure of a chained up, bruised girl. Mandy.

“Did you kill him? Did you kill that bastard?! Did you-“

There was silence as her eyes studied my face in the light.

“Who… who are you?”

At the station, Mandy continued to cry over the death of her boyfriend Noah. We both needed to be questioned by the Sheriff. But all I wanted to do, selfishly, was find out how in the world this girl was a spitting image of me. Even our bodies had the same thin frame. Our noses, eyebrows, lips, everything was the same. I knew after we were questioned and she had calmed down a bit, maybe we would have that conversation. But right now I tried to give her space to grieve.