I have been watching me for weeks now. I watch myself walking down the streets, and I watch as I sleep. I stay away from myself, never getting too close.
I saw myself go to a café, get some coffee and a cinnamon roll. I thought I could smell the scent wafting over here. I enjoyed it so much.
I got up, and I followed behind.
I had such a wonderful life, watching what was going on. I would follow for days, taking things ever so often to eat. I would sleep sometimes, but not often and not for very long, because when I slept it felt safe to get closer, like if I was some sort of dream.
I crawled along like a shadow, a far shadow thrown out by the sun and tethered by nothing except myself.
I could see how the light caught myself and warmed it, and I was envious.
But that soon passed, for I should not want to ruin myself.
After the night comes, after weeks of following, I will be myself again.
I saw myself drift away. I felt something crawl like a demon inside of me, like a demon with a demon crawling inside it, and so on forever.
“Did I know,” I whispered as I moved closer to myself- “Did I know that I have taken something from me? No, I wouldn’t remember that.”
I could see myself breathing.
“I stole my self; I am sure of it- and now I will steal it back.”
I slowly lifted myself out of bed and carried myself to a street corner. I smeared myself and my clothes with mud and left myself unrecognizable.
I put on my clothes that I had left in my house. I ate my food in my pantry. I slept in my bed, in my very own house.
Oh, the man that had lived here before called on my friends. But they didn’t believe him. They believed me, and they had kicked him out, and now he lived on the streets in rags and cast-off clothes.
I settled into my chair.
Outside, a stranger stared up at my window.