How my Mind Works

The whistle echoed. Trees rustled and two yellow eyes appeared in the dark. I began whistling a lullaby that my mother had sang to me years ago. It was the creature’s favorite. I walked along the edge of the forest and the eyes followed, footsteps cracking branches as it walked inside the trees. The tune repeated after me in a minor tone.

This was an almost daily occurrence between me and the mysterious creature. I would purse my lips together and whistle a tune only to hear it echoed back to me in a sadder manner. Every once in a while it would try to whistle something different than me, but it always returned to whatever I chose.

Three nights later, I began once more with the lullaby. The trees rustled, the eyes appeared, but I didn’t hear a whistle back. I stared directly into the cold yellow eyes. For the first time in a while they gave me shivers. I shook them off and took a step back.

“Why no tunes today? Not in the mood?”

Nothing.

I shrugged and began my nightly walk, whistling the whole way. The eyes followed me, silent. Then, a voice. My voice.

“Why no tunes today? Not in the mood?” my mind flooded with confusion. My voice. It was speaking. With my voice.

“Why no tunes today? Not in the mood? Why no tunes today? Why? Why? Why? Wh-” the voice stopped and a growl arose from the creature. Louder and louder and louder. Terror churned in my stomach as I stepped back from the tree line. The branches rustled and a perfect mirror image of me stepped out from the forest.

A story from my childhood, a fantasy, fiction. They didn’t exist. I had told myself this for years. It drew a knife and began to sprint towards me. Only one word pierced my terror as it lunged.