The Doppelgänger: A Psychological Thriller Read online

  “I took you to see Dr. Williams fifteen at the asylum,” she said. “It’s not an asylum anymore. It was a hospital back then.”

  Darcy listened silently.

  “He said you needed to undergo hypnotherapy,” she said. “I agreed to it because he said it would help you.”

  “But it didn’t work.”

  “I can see that now,” she said. “You ended up with a mixed set of memories. I don’t know what you remember but you underwent a few sessions with him. At that time, I didn’t know the impact it would have on you. You began seeing things. The psychiatrist diagnosed with schizophrenia the following year. Your sessions with Dr. Williams stopped. By that time, your father and I decided to divorce. I don’t know what happened after that. Your father took custody of both the kids since I was in no position to support you.”

  “The memories I have are a result of that drug?”

  There was no answer.

  “What were you trying to make me forget?”

  A painful expression spread on her mother’s face. Jennifer Scott’s wrinkles deepened. Her blue eyeballs darted to the ceiling and back to the table.

  “I should leave. I need to get to work.” She stood up.

  Darcy moved across the floor and caught her arm. Her mother turned.

  “Wait. Tell me. I need to know the truth.” Her eyes blazed with determination.

  “I can’t tell you.” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “Only you know.”

  “What do I know?”

  “Figure it out yourself.” She pulled away. Darcy let go of her arm. She moved away. When she reached the door, she turned. “Since when did you start using your left hand?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You used your left hand to sign at the bank.”

  Darcy’s surprised eyes cut through the air. The bell at the edge of the door chimed. Her mother was gone.

  It wasn’t her. The person her mother met was her mirror image from another universe. The words of the book came alive. Regaining her senses, Darcy ran to the entrance and jerked the door open.

  “When will I see you again?” she called out to her mother who was already a few feet ahead of her.

  “I hope, never,” her mother said before she disappeared at the turning.

  “What happens when I discover what happened?”

  There was no answer. Her mother walked out of the door. The bell resounded. Darcy stood at the entrance, her blank eyes gazing into the distant horizon.

  The door opened again. She backed off. She collected her thoughts and walked out. She stopped before the car. She turned away from it and began walking to the bus stop. She sat on a steel bench, waiting for the next bus to come by.

  The phone rang. Darcy’s hands went cold over the phone.

  Detective Jones

  ‘Slide to answer’ the phone prompted. Her fingers didn’t budge. The phone continued to vibrate. The vibrations intensified her fears.

  She dropped the phone into her pocket. The vibrations cut through her skin.

  After six more buzzes, the vibrations ceased. Darcy breathed. Detective Jones became a missed call in her phone memory. She’d call him once she was calmer.

  At 8:00 PM, Darcy reached the Rush University Medical Center. Patients passed in and out of the building. The modern building was filled with people.

  Remnants of her painful past pricked her eyes. The hospital stood before her eyes, vivid as the image that flashed in her blurry memory. It had been renovated since her last visit but the long history of pain echoed beneath its walls.

  She stared at it from across the road. Darcy tried to balance herself but the staggering force of her painful memory crushed her. Beyond those thick, brick walls lay the truth. She had booked herself into one of Dr. Nathan’s cancelled appointments. He was the last person she could talk to.

  The hospital was surrounded by a brick fence. Her body was hidden by the shadow of trees, shops and apartments. Cars drove in and out of the gates. People walked in the dark park. Lights shone in the distance.

  Even as her mind steadied itself, her feet trembled. She didn’t want to go back there. Her first few years in London hadn’t been easy.

  She examined the empty road. There was nobody on the streets. A long leaf flew toward her. The last leaf.

  Her phone buzzed. Her trembling hands turned to her phone. Before she could answer, she heard the trees rattle.

  Something moved behind the trees. She turned around. The dark park stretched behind her. Shadows fell on her. Owls sang in the distance. There was nobody on the side street behind her.

  Darcy took small steps into the entrance of the hospital. She heard steps behind her but when she turned, there was nobody.

  The lobby was noisy. The noise reassured her. Patients were wheeled in and out of rooms. The calm exterior was misleading. There was a list of doctors by specialty.

  “Hello,” the receptionist said in a polite voice.

  “I have an appointment at eight-fifteen.” Darcy said.

  “Your name?”

  “Darcy Godfrey.”

  She checked the screen.

  “Uh…yes. Please wait at the reception.”

  Darcy nodded. She had a few minutes to go, so she decided to go to the washroom. As she walked through the corridor, a patient was pushed in a stretcher. A bottle of blood hung over him, draining into his veins. A splitting headache cut Darcy’s head. Her vision grew blurry. The dizziness transformed into a spiral of images.

  The precise bottle of blood that hung over his arm dissolved into drops of red. She closed her eyes. Her brain thudded in her skull. The drops of red spread and became a large building.

  A winding corridor filled her vision. Click. Click. Click. Her jerky footsteps left a trail of sound, rippling the silence. The scenery metamorphosed into a long, bright corridor filled with a row of rooms. King’s Park Asylum. It was there once again, standing in all its glory.

  She was breathless. A shadow spread beside her. Her mother. The clear blue eyes crystallized. The sharp edges of her form were too clear to miss. They waked hand in hand to a closed wooden door. The polished rosewood gleamed. Her mother knocked.

  “Come in,” a raspy voice called. The door opened. Darcy saw his clear blue eyes vividly. They resembled her mother’s. His face contained fewer wrinkles, but he was past his forties.

  Nudged by her mother, she walked into the room, holding onto the door for support. She saw fear in her eyes. Fear she had never seen before. She shakily sat on a chair as her mother began the conversation.

  “Good morning, Darcy,” Dr. Cleo said, his voice cheerful.

  Darcy remained silent. She nodded her head in acknowledgement.

  “I spoke to you about her problem yesterday,” her mother explained. “Can you do anything?”

  “We discussed hypnotherapy. How does Darcy feel about it?”

  “She isn’t old enough to understand,” her mother brushed off.

  “But you explained it to her?”

  “Yes.”

  “How is school?” he asked Darcy. Her eyes didn’t leave the pen stand on the table.

  “Answer him,” her mother said.

  “Mrs. Godfrey, I think it would be more helpful if you left the room.”

  “Me? Of course,” She stood up, her coat hanging over her right arm. “I’ll see you after you’re done.”

  She turned around and left through the door. The door closed behind her with a thud.

  “She’s worried,” Dr. Cleo explained. “I heard you’ve been having some trouble expressing yourself.”

  “I killed somebody….” A whimper exited Darcy’s lips.

  Dr. Cleo’s face didn’t change expression
.

  “I heard.” He said, after a long moment. “What do you remember about it?”

  “I don’t remember much,” Darcy confessed. Her lifeless eyes froze on the red pen in the pen stand. Dr. Cleo noticed the fear that rose in her eyes. “I wasn’t myself.”

  “Who were you?”

  “Somebody else. A monster.” she said.

  “What do the others say?”

  “The others? They don’t say anything but I know they’re afraid of me.”

  “And you?”

  “Me?”

  “Are you somebody they should be afraid of?”

  “I don’t know.” Darcy found the courage to say the words. Her voice broke.

  “It’s common,” he said. His eyes met hers. “Schizophrenia and all this trauma….especially after an incident like that.”

  “That’s what they all say.” Darcy said, in a low voice.

  “Would you like to forget what happened?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I have a medicine that could help you.”

  “Will the medicine cure me?”

  “The medicine can’t cure you. Only you can cure yourself. I want you to understand that,” he said. She nodded weakly.

  “I don’t know if your mother explained the procedure to you but we’ll start with weekly hypnotherapy sessions. They’ll be accompanied by medicines that will make you feel better.”

  “What is my problem?”

  “You can’t distinguish between your visions and reality. That’s nothing to worry about. Everybody that has schizophrenia faces the same thing.”

  “Can I be cured?”

  “You can be managed.” he said. His raspy voice was reassuring.

  “I want to try,” Darcy said, in a small voice.

  “We’ll put you on medication,” he said. Warmth filled his eyes. His image faded.

  Darcy opened her eyes. The smell of chloroform mingled with chatter. Steel equipment clanked. Darcy found herself on the floor. A nurse rushed to her, grabbing her by the shoulders. She shook her and brought her back to the present. Her black eyes looked concerned. Darcy regained consciousness.

  “I’m okay.” she said, breaking away from her clutch. She stood up, holding the wall for support.

  “I can call the doctor-”

  “I’m fine.” Darcy reiterated. She walked to the washroom, leaning on the wall for support.

  She opened the door and limped to the washbasin. A woman exited the toilet. Darcy watched as she washed her hands and walked out. She placed her hands on the edge of the basin and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her breathing calmed down. The memories entered her mind like a flood. Her hand curved into a fist. She inched closer to the mirror.

  Her fists curved into a ball. Her hands inched closer to the mirror. The sound of running water distracted her. Darcy bent and ran her fingers under the stream of cold water. She splashed some water on her face. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

  The door opened. The suddenness of the sound startled her. A long shadow stretched to her feet. Someone stood at the door. The footsteps grew louder. The door opened. A woman emerged and stared at Darcy. Darcy pulled out tissues from the dispenser and wiped her face.

  She skipped her appointment and went home that evening. In her mind, the recollection played like a broken reel. So, she knew Dr. Cleo. He was the one that erased her memories. But, she still didn’t know what it was that she didn’t remember. She knew she killed somebody but who?

  Darcy arrived at her apartment at 9:00 PM at night. The deserted road send chills down her spine. She reached the main door and pulled her keys out.

  “Good evening.” Detective Jones’ raspy voice pounded in her head. She turned. Her butt slammed into the base of the staircase. Her breath was jagged.

  “Why are you here?” Darcy inched away from him. Her hands moved to the tap and closed it. His eyes regarded her carefully. “You booked the appointment for me?”

  “You came,” he remarked. He took a step closer. Darcy dug her body further into the basin. “I want to talk to you.”

  “No. Go away. I didn’t do anything!” she screeched.

  Her heartbeat sped up. She slouched, panting. His eyes glowered.

  “What happened in the corridor?” he asked, fixed on one end of the washroom. He stopped. She breathed.

  “No-nothing,” she stammered. “You met my mother.”

  “She told me a lot about your past,” he said, his lips curving into a sinister smile. He knew something.

  “Why did you come here? We don’t meet until Friday.” Darcy’s voice came in a concentrated beam.

  “I heard you went to New York,” he said. He inched closer to her. He was coming to get her.

  “My father had a heart attack. It was serious.” Darcy said.

  “You lawyer contacted me.”

  Her eyes yo-yoed from one end of the room to another.

  “She is alive,” Detective Jones began. “Your mother is alive. You told me she was dead.”

  Darcy felt nervous all of a sudden. She hoped he knew nothing about what she had just remembered. Goosebumps broke on her flesh at that thought.

  “I didn’t know. I forgot.” She said.

  “You met her this morning.” Detective Jones said.

  “Are you following me?” she asked, neurotic. She looked around, trying to spot somebody else.

  “I met your mother.”

  “What!?”

  “I had to meet her after what your lawyer said,” he said. “I don’t know how we missed the second woman. I asked your mother if you were one of a twin.”

  “What did she tell you?” Darcy’s fists clenched.

  “No. She has no idea who that woman was,” Detective Jones said. “But she thinks she saw her at the bank on Wednesday.”

  “And?”

  “Is there something you know about this person?”

  “No.” Darcy said. She wondered if Adams had told him about the blog. If he knew, his expression didn’t give it away.

  “All right then, I’ll be looking into this. And I request you to not take anymore trips to New York until this case is resolved.”

  “It was an emergency.” Darcy said.

  “Our appointment at 11:00 AM still stands.”

  With those words, he turned around and left, mumbling something.

  Darcy went back to her apartment. Cold sweat trickled down her forehead, coupled with an unease in her belly. She needed to be one step ahead of him. She had to figure out what was going on before the interview.

  The red barn was pregnant with meaning. That’s why her doppelgänger wanted to remind her of it.

  The dark room met Darcy’s gaze. She sighed. She walked to the window and opened the curtains. A shadow flickered behind the trees that lined the road. She leaned in trying to get a closer look at the shadow. It was a woman. The street light fell on her as she stepped forward. Darcy saw her brunette hair. Her hair was the same shade as Darcy’s. Darcy inhaled sharply. Her eyes refused to budge from the woman who resembled her so much. Her dark coat showcased her pale, squarish face which had hazel eyes, the same color as hers. She looked up.

  Terrified, Darcy jerked the curtains shut. She breathed heavily, trying to dismiss the image. Her heartbeat escalated before it slowed down. Her eyes rested on her thighs. She took a few deep breaths, finding the courage to turn around. Slowly, she parted the curtains. Her eyes fell to the tree. There was nobody there now.

  The woman was gone.

  Chapter 21

  When morning broke, Darcy knew something had changed. There was no light. Uneasiness made her heart constrict. The room was dark except for a narrow beam of light that entered from the gaps in the do
or. Darcy looked at the door until it began moving in hypnotic circles.

  Darcy stirred awake and walked to the bathroom. When she came out, nothing changed.

  The phone buzzed.

  Mike.

  “Hey, morning,” he began.

  “Morning.” Darcy said.

  “I’m looking for a book and I was wondering if the library has it.”

  “Can you text me the title, author and ISBN?” Darcy said. “I’ll have a look once I get to the library.”

  “Thanks a lot.” Mike said.

  At 1:00 PM that afternoon, Darcy stood outside The Science Reporter’s office. She stopped by the glass doors, feeling overdressed. Her mouth was covered with a scarf. Her eyes were covered with large, bug-eyed sunglasses. She nervously traced her steps into the elevator.

  The Science Reporter was fairly busy in the morning. Darcy stood outside the glass doors. She knocked. Her bony knuckles brushed against the hard, glass door. The soft noise crackled the silence.

  Mike’s eyes rose. They met hers. He stood up and walked out of his glass cabin. Darcy backed away from the door. He opened the main door and joined her in the corridor.

  “Morning.” Her voice was morose.

  “Darcy.”

  “I got the book you wanted.” she said. She reached into her bag and pulled out a book. She laid it on the table.

  Parallel Universes. The title was self-explanatory.

  “Thank you. I’ve looked everywhere for this book.” Mike said. He moved closer to her. His eyes grazed the book cover. He picked it up and opened it. The smell of new paper melted into the air. He turned the pages quickly, surveying the content.

  “Is that the one you wanted?”

  “Yes. Thank you very much,” he said. He closed the book and moved closer to her. “You’ve been very helpful-”

  “Don’t mention it,” Darcy said. “You know, your article’s gotten me interested in parallel universes and Doppelgangers.”