Scraping
Clawing
Just to escape the monsters
Running through woods
Past the Hunter pines
I see shelter
I open the door
Then I open my eyes
Another dream
But the nightmare has just begun
Mundane life
Day to day drudgery
Under a #vernacular roof
Domestic bliss

The recent trend in tiny house builds intrigued me. Everything from turning a shed into a home, a shipping container, or even a van fascinated me. How many of these people moved out of city living and into isolation living off the land by growing their own food in gardens made from recycled materials really had me wondering if I could do something like that.

I recently broke it off with my girlfriend and wanted to move out of the city. One too many break-ins, nasty bouts with slumlords, and the general consensus that the world seemed broken made me long for a simpler life.  

I decided to take a risk and try it for myself. I first inquired about suitable land that allowed for city water and electric hook up.  

My friend, Micah, referred me to reach out to a friend of his father’s, Dave. Knew that it had loads of property in a wooded area not far from Columbus. The gentleman in question often allowed campers to rent his land for the scenic nature experience. He made a lot of money in the summer months, but is he interested in letting me rent and build a house on his property?

I got his number from my friend and called him to discuss it.

“Yello,” 

“Hi, my name is Kurt. I was referred to you by Micah Ashleigh regarding some rental property that may be available.”

“Micah, you say?”

“Yes, he’s a friend. Good guy,” I said 

“I got a spot; what did you want to do? Are we talkin’ camping for a weekend or a week?”

I’m looking for an area I can rent to build on. I’m trying to downsize, and I was told you might be someone to reach out to.”

There was a long silence, and I had to look at the phone to ensure he hadn’t hung up.

“Yup, I got a place. You can come to meet me tomorrow, and I’ll give you a tour of the property, and we can discuss payment.”

The next day I met Dave at the large property. We discussed what I wanted to do- make a home on the land and pay monthly rent. He seemed eager to rent the property to me, but there was a stipulation.

“I need the full year’s rent upfront, and you can do anything you like out here. I only ask that you are quiet as the horses get spooked easily.”

I thought about it and then finally agreed. Dave said he would even help me by getting me in contact with one of his contractor friends.

The cost was more than I had anticipated, but it was worth it. I was going to own my home on nearly ten acres of land with only one neighbor. I was also given free rein on how I wanted it constructed.

So, as promised, my journey began. I found one of those shipping containers on eBay from a guy in Pennsylvania who was selling it for 650.00. I just had to pay to haul it back. I, once again, was assisted by Dave, who just happened to have a truck to haul it. It was nice to be living so close to a guy that was so kind.

I could set up the unit and begin work on the interior immediately. I didn’t make it have a ton of extra features. I was mainly going for a couple of windows, a bed, and a space to store my things. The contractor that Dave sent me was good and helped me with the design, but I put everything together. I’m proud of what I came up with. The few things I didn’t expect was that I could get running water, but the toilet didn’t flush as well as I liked. I had almost decided on a compost toilet. Still, Dave said that of all the things, he did not allow the dumping of any kind on his property, nor did he want me creating a large garden bed, which seemed odd to me because he had been so cool about everything else. So that meant the composting garden was out unless I grew things in boxes on my makeshift patio. 

So after a few months, I was settled in. It was a nice and quiet place to rest my head. When they said that nature was healing, they didn’t lie. I spent most of my time working and sitting on my new deck. It was peaceful and calming.  

It wasn’t long after the first month that I noticed something about my new tiny house. While it was exactly like one of those tiny house storage container homes you would see on those home and garden-type television shows, there was just something that began to make me feel uneasy. 

I woke one morning to the sound of my shower running. When I got out of bed, I could have sworn I saw someone running out my sliding doors that led to my new patio. I never jumped out of bed so fast. I ran to the door, and I saw nothing where I should have seen someone running away. 

I called Dave that very morning after the sun came up.

I asked him if he had seen anyone on the property. He said he’d check his security cameras, which he did while I was talking to him. Dave said he couldn’t see anything unusual, and I was more than welcome to check them myself. He even offered to install one for me. Again, here was the guy that was so nice and polite. Yet, I opted not to take him up on the offer. Instead, I decided to install my own. I got one that required a phone app and had infrared availability. I still need to get it delivered to my new residence. Instead, I had the new camera delivered to my post office box that I set up when I moved in.  

Once I installed it, I could do nothing but wait. 

Then I waited some more. Actually, I waited about a week or so, and nothing. Perhaps, I was losing my mind. Maybe what I had seen that morning was just me dreaming. That could have explained what I had seen.  

I was asleep when the second instance occurred. I was sleeping when something woke me. It was my phone. My cell had several notifications from the camera app. I sat up in my bed and clicked on the first notification. All I could see was what looked like two eyes that appeared off the deck of my tiny house. I skipped past it assuming it was a dear. The second notification was that of a shadow, but I couldn’t make out what it was. The third notification, I clicked on it, and there was nothing there. I clicked on the last one, and it was completely black. I was annoyed but went back to sleep.  

The next day I had to go into the city for work. We had some big meetings that required me to show up in person. I sat in a large auditorium, taking notes from the CEO about security changes we had to make on our work computers. I was trying to pay attention when my phone dinged. I looked down, and there was another notification from that camera app.

This time I saw what looked like a woman with shaggy hair and hardly any clothes on. She was standing staring at my patio doors. She wasn’t moving. She just stood there. Within a few moments, she had moved closer, but I didn’t see her walk. She just appeared. Then in the background, it looked like something or someone was standing behind her. At that point, the camera went black. 

I can’t tell you the feeling I got from watching her. I didn’t know if she was flesh and being, a ghost, or something else.

I drove home after my meeting in a state of panic. I was concerned with my safety but also wondered if I was overreacting. It may be a curious camper from one of Dave’s other rentals.  

I pulled onto the property. I saw Dave, and he waived as I drove past him towards the drive next to my newly created tiny house. 

That is when I saw something strange. One of the planter boxes I had set up on the patio railing for some herbs was now knocked over. I picked it up and cleaned it the best I could. I noticed someone standing behind me and turned to see Dave shaking his head.

Looks like we got raccoons. You gotta be careful when you plant things. That is why I said no gardens. I can’t tell you the number of times we tried, but the misses and I never could get anything going. We tried putting fences up around it. But whatever lives out here always got to it.

I thanked Dave and watched him return to his house and go inside. 

I placed the planter box back on the deck railing, hoping it would stay put this time. That is when I noticed something. There was what looked like a hole under my new tiny house. Could it be an animal? I’d have to set a few traps and relocate whatever it was. I certainly didn’t need an infestation of groundhogs or rabbits. 

I put my briefcase inside the house, locked my door, and went to shower.

I was standing in the shower for a while when the water suddenly shut off on me. 

What the hell?

I grabbed a towel and went to investigate. 

When I went to look outside to see what could have stopped the water, I saw a man standing on my deck. Only, it wasn’t just any man. It was Dave, only he didn’t look like himself. He looked disheveled and broken, with a furious expression on his face.

“Hey, Dave, is everything okay? The water shut off,” I stood standing there half-naked. 

Dave said nothing and then walked around the other side of the house. I followed him, but this was the crazy part.

He disappeared. He completely disappeared. 

I don’t know what to make of it. The water came back on the second I walked back into the house. I felt awful for pissing Dave off. Only something didn’t feel right. I asked him about it the next day when I went into town.

I was driving in my car and stopped him while he was carrying animal feed to his cows.  

“I just want to apologize for anything I could have done to make you angry,” I said, looking at him. 

Dave just stared at me, puzzled. “Sorry? I don’t think you have ever done anything disrespectful. You pay your utilities, take care of things around here, and pay your rent for the next ten months. You must have mistaken,” he chuckled.

“No, when the water shut off, you were standing on my patio and looked so pissed off.”

“Kurt, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Now, it was my turn to be puzzled. I have no idea what I am supposed to think. Could Dave have multiple personalities? Does he blackout on a regular? I don’t believe that is the case. I don’t really know where to go from here. 

I’m not terrified, but after my conversation with Dave later that night, I was awoken again by the app on my phone. At that very moment, it gave me a live feed of that woman standing outside. Still, only when I looked out onto my patio was nobody there.

The next day I noticed that the hole near my patio looked bigger than it was. That was about three weeks ago, and so far, no new weird occurrences have happened. 

I’m not sure what to think. If anything new happens, I’ll be sure to write more.

Michael and I had been pen-pals since we were in the 8th grade. It had been one of those exchange programs for my history class to learn about different cultures. We drew names out of a paper bag and I got the country of Ireland and a name with an address. It was his full name address age: 14 years old Dublin, Ireland. I was a girl and I was slightly disappointed because I had these grandiose dreams of friending a girl overseas that I could visit from my desert home in Tucson, Arizona.

The idea of a boy instead of a girl was made less annoying when Michael seemed genuinely interested in responding back. Unlike my best pal Kate, whose pen-pal had only written once to say she lived in Iceland and was attending her 3rd year at university, Michael was my age and very engaging.

He and I kept on exchanging snail mail letters well into College and even in later adult hood. We both had kept up the letters because we found it sort of romantic in the day and age of smart phones. It kept things simple and not to mention it was fun getting post cards and letters on funny stationary.

We talked about our lives mostly and tended to keep things in a positive light. Very rarely did we discuss negative things going on in our lives. We did manage to exchange photos of ourselves and our families however, we never got the chance to meet in person. That was part of the mystery. It gave our lives excitement in a weird way.

I looked forward to his letters and he always seemed to look forward to mine. We always kept in touch and kept each other up to date on the many things that were going on in our lives. When he got married he sent me a post card from France. When I finally got married he sent me a bottle of wine from Italy with a lovely post card attached. We had gotten closer through our writing and I guess we were a little more than pen-pals, I considered Michael my friend.

Michael’s letters always started the same way “Hello Alice.” I received a letter from Michael every two weeks like clockwork. Then one day I stopped receiving his letters. I felt inside that something must be wrong. Maybe he was having trouble with his wife or there was something going on with his family.

I reasoned that things must have just gotten busy for him as things often did in real life. I didn’t give it too much thought when two months went by and still nothing. My husband, Larry, had reassured me that all was well and that he probably just had a lot of personal stuff going on. Then one afternoon something strange happened.

I was working from home with the house all to myself and as I was typing something on my laptop the doorbell rang. I peeked out the window and saw a U PS guy standing there with a package.

I opened the door signed the slip and went inside my house to open the large rectangle package. What on earth could this be? I looked down at the address and could see it had Michael’s last name and the address was Michael’s. I thought it strange at first since it wasn’t like there was any special occasion.

I grinned eagerly wondering what my friend had sent me. I opened the box and inside was another box with a card attached on it. It was not in Michaels handwriting and immediately my grin turned to a curious concern. I opened the card which was in a pink envelope and very uncharacteristic of Michael.

“Dear Alice, I am very sorry to have to relay this message to you so late, but 2 months ago my husband Michael died of cancer. Please forgive him for not continuing the correspondence once he found out he was ill. The pancreatic cancer hit him quite quickly and before we all knew it my wonderful husband and father to my 2 children was gone.
This is a parting gift that my husband wanted you to have and to be honest I am glad to be getting rid of it. I was never one for spirit boards.

Sincerely, Myra

I sat in stunned silence with my hand over my mouth then the tears began. I know I didn’t even really know Michael in the same way I knew my other friends. We had never even talked over the phone, skyped, or at the very least sent a text in the 32 years we had been pen pals, yet I still felt the sting of loss.

I grabbed a tissue wiping my eyes and then opened the box. Inside was a blue hand painted Ouija board. It was painted dark blue with glitter to resemble a night sky. There was a sun in the upper left corner and a moon in the right corner. At the bottom center was the word Goodbye. There were the usual letters and numbers on it. Other than the card that his wife Myra sent there was little explanation as to why Michael wanted me to have it. I sat it aside and made a call to my husband relaying the message and the odd gift from Myra.

Larry was genuinely sorry to hear that Michael had passed away. He had become such a large part of our lives in a way. I sent Myra a thank you and my condolences. I was heartbroken over the loss of my friendship.

Some time passed and I had forgotten about the spirit board that Myra had sent me. It got put into the top of my closet and forgotten for a year or so. Then one October evening I had a girl’s night with my friends Rhonda and Chelsea. Larry was out playing cards with some buddies of his, so we had the house to ourselves. We had been drinking wine talking about Rhonda and Chelsea’s kids all getting ready for college and how crazy it was that our college days only seemed like yesterday.

Chelsea relayed a funny story about the night she and her friends from college had played with an old Ouija board. She had played with some friends who got so freaked out because there had been an electrical outage after messing with the board.

“Ouija Board you say? I have one we should get it out.” I said laughing nearly spilling my red wine all over.

“Say it isn’t so!” Chelsea asked excitedly.

“Oh lord here we go you two. I don’t think I want to stick around for this. Not to mention I’m too old for this nonsense.”

“Oh, shut up! You old stick in the mud! Alice go get your board.” Chelsea laughed pouring another glass of Cabernet.

I went to my closet and got the box down that Myra had sent me. I sat it up on the living room floor and we all sat around it like we were in junior high instead of 40 something year old women.

“Should we say a prayer or something?” asked Rhonda.

“Yeah and light a candle.” Said Chelsea pulling out her lighter from her cigarette pack.

“Okay. I’ll start I guess.” I giggled. “Dear god protect us from demons and RHONDA!” I cracked up clearly feeling the effects of the red wine.

All three of us placed our hands on the planchette and tried to concentrate. I could feel it moving but I could swear it was Chelsea. We just stared at each other cracking up.

“Shouldn’t one of you ask a question?” asked Rhonda.

“Oh yeah. What do you want to know?”

“What is the name of the spirit?” asked Chelsea trying to whisper.

The planchette did not budge.

We all looked at each other dead silent then we heard the front door open then slam shut.

We jumped up from our spots on the floor. It turned out it was just Larry coming home from his poker game.

“Jesus that scared the piss out of me!” giggled Chelsea.

“Yeah I think it is time I got home.” Said Rhonda.

With that they left and I packed up the Ouija Board placing it under the couch then following Larry up to bed. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The next morning, I awoke to someone touching my shoulder. I figured it was Larry and smiled. “Not now you goof.”

When he didn’t retort or make any other movements I slowly opened my eyes. There was no one in the room with me. Surely Larry hadn’t made a break away that quickly?

I got up, put on my robe and made my way down to the kitchen to get coffee. There was a note from Larry. “Made coffee. Have a good work day from home.” Larry frequently left letters but I knew that there was no way that Larry had touched me then gotten out of the house that quickly. I chalked it up to my being half asleep and thought no more of it.

Later that day I was buried in work and not paying any attention to anything around me when the doorbell rang. Who would be dropping by this time of day? Everyone I knew was at work and I wasn’t expecting any visitors.

I went to the door and opened it. There was no one there. I looked around and peeked out but still there were no signs of anyone around.

I shut the door this time making sure it was locked and went back to my work. By 3 o’clock I had gotten a craving for some crackers with cheese and something to drink. I often worked all day forgetting to bother eating. As I made my way into the kitchen I tripped over a box that was sticking out from under the couch. I looked down and there was the box with the Ouija Board in it. I stopped for a second and then I pulled it out.

I opened the box and sat on my couch. I placed the board on my lap and smiled. It was the last thing my friend had given me. “I don’t believe in these things but this is a very beautiful piece of art.” I said out loud as though anyone at all could hear me.

I laughed to myself placing my hands on the planchette trying to concentrate. I figured what the hell I’d try to see if anything would happen. I felt the strangest sensation course through my hands. It was like a mild shock of electricity pulling me in the direction of the letters. I looked down at my hands which were now shaking. This strange contraption wanted to be used. I was also fearful after hearing so many scary stories about Ouija Boards.

I wasn’t sure if I were hallucinating but my hands held on to the planchette as it went eagerly to the letter H then the letter E then the letter L. I could literally feel the loss of control. I was not moving this damned thing on my own.

It wasn’t registering at first because it took shortcuts with spelling out the first word. It didn’t make sense in my mind till it began again spelling out slowly each letter one by one so I could understand it. There was an intelligence behind it and even though I was scared and my hands were shaking I was excited at the prospects of this being real. Who could be behind this? A real ghost maybe? Was I just imagining this? The pull of the planchette as it moved only excited me.

I looked down and disbelief, fear, excitement, then sadness all seemed to hit me at once. Tears fell down my cheeks as I read what it was spelling out to me.

“Hello Alice.”

I had been having the dreams since I was about sixteen. I was in the woods running from someone chasing me. Fueled by anxiety, when I finally caught up to him, he looked exactly like me, only he was an old man. The first time I encountered what you’d call a “doppelgänger” was back in college. It was a seemingly innocent mistaken identity.  

I worked in the kitchen at our University to help pay for my tuition when, one afternoon, a guy came in asking me if I still had the yellow Bug for sale. I corrected him, telling him I didn’t even own a car. I was living on campus, so I didn’t need one; I was too poor to buy one then, and I rode my bicycle when I needed to go off campus.

The guy seemed genuinely confused.

“I just talked to you Sunday in here – you told me how bad the pizza was, and if you sold your piece of junk Volkswagen, you could afford a decent pizza off campus.”

I smirked. I explained I didn’t even work in the cafeteria on Sundays because I had basketball practice. He seemed confused but let it go.

I didn’t think anything more of it. Shit like that had been happening to me most of my life; only now, as a fully grown adult, did it become an issue.

It became clear to me the morning I received a call for a job interview. I was so excited because this job would be twice my salary now if I got hired.  

The interview was at 8 the following morning. It seemed super early, but I was prepared. I didn’t sleep well. I had begun having those old nightmares again recently since I was a teenager. Me-night- running through a forest- there were candles- black cloaks everywhere- men in the shadows watching me. 

Then bam! The alarm went off. The following morning, I woke up, but when I looked at my alarm, the clock read 10 a.m. I panicked, rushing to call the company to apologize for my rudeness.

The woman on the other end of the phone laughed. I said I didn’t understand what could be so funny. She then proceeded to enlighten me.

“You were so great in the interview that Mr. Jennings told me to call you to offer you the job.”

“But I didn’t come to the interview. I think you must be mistaken.”

“Talk, dark hair, you wore a blue suit?” she laughed again.

I looked at the suit I had hanging up. It was my blue suit. So unless I blacked out and came home to sleep after- I had no recollection of this interview.  

Then, she continued with her description. “You have a slight scar over your left eyebrow that you joked about when we met. You also mentioned you had a cat named Johnny.”

I had all those things. I then played it off and told her I was interested in the job.  

She advised me to report the following Monday, and I was hired on the spot earlier that morning.

Unless I had blacked out, someone who looked exactly like me and had everything of mine had done the interview and gotten me hired.  

The following Monday came, and I thought that I’d get a notice that I had been Punked when I arrived at my new job. 

Yet, I entered the facility and was given a new badge, a lovely new cubicle fit, and a plush ergonomic chair. I was astonished at how welcoming all the staff were at this company. I took my seat after a long meeting with the man who would be my new owner and took a deep breath. I made it. I kept thinking perhaps I was dreaming, but I knew when I took a sip of the perfect coffee that I was not dreaming. 

The first month went smoothly, although there were a few oddities here and there, like the fact I was constantly mistaken for the other version of myself whenever I went out to the front of the building to order breakfast from the food truck.  

“Didn’t you just come down here? Wow, you must be hungry.”

It needed to add up. I kept telling myself that it was all a coincidence.  

Then it happened.

I went home one evening after a night with friends; I met a girl named Tracey. We hit it off, and one thing led to another. We had sex in my kitchen on the floor in a burst of passion I had no idea I possessed. 

I passed out quickly. In my dreams, I saw them. Black-cloaked men in a dark forest. Again, I was being chased, and again, I was in fear for my life. When I got to the forest’s edge, the man caught up to me. I pulled off the cloak of the man and saw it was me.  

I woke, rolling over; blood was next to my body. I scoured my apartment trying to find the source, thinking it was Tracey, but then I got a text from her asking me to refrain from ever reaching out to her again. 

What the hell? Last I recall, we had the time of our lives. The blood was a bit off.

I was hesitant to text her, but I had to know. “Why am I bleeding? I am sorry, but I have no recollection.”

“Seriously?” she asked me.

“Yes.”

“Wow, dude, you need to refrain from drinking so much. It was blood from punching your fist against the bed repeatedly. You seemed to think it was funny. I left. Seriously, dude, get some help.”

I didn’t recall any of this. 

I made it to work on time, and everyone cheered when I entered the office. I was completely confused as to what the hell was going on. 

“Hey, what is this about?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“How do you not remember that dude at the bar last night?” My coworker Jake asked. He then began to explain the prior night’s shenanigans to me. “He kept telling you to stop pretending to be him. I figured it was your twin brother. You guys looked alike, but he had this beard, and then you began to attack him. We all were amazed at how easily you took him. Then you got that hot chick to go home with you. How was that anyway?” Jake asked, patting me on the back.

“I gotta say, man, I don’t remember most of this stuff.”

“Right on, hey, we all have those nights, right?” he laughed.

I figured I had drunk too much. Yet, the fact I apparently went ape shit on some guy gave me the creeps, especially after everything that happened to me.

I finished my day with no incident and went straight home.  

When I got inside my apartment, I realized it was a mess. Someone had broken inside my apartment. 

I was about to call the cops when I saw a shadowy figure holding a knife in my kitchen.

“You!” the man screamed.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I’m YOU. Or I should say you’re me. You are an imposter.”

I looked at the shadow as I couldn’t make out his face.

I looked at the man, but he would not come out of the shadows.

“You’re trying to ruin my life. It is my fault. I kept wishing I was a better version of myself.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“No, of course, you wouldn’t know. How could you? You were only maybe a decade old. I did it – the ritual. When we were kids. We all gathered in the woods using some book on black magic. We evoked you into reality. I wanted you to take over my body- make me better. I wanted to be someone I’m not. So I did a spell to reinvent myself, only it backfired. You have been slowly taking over my life since. Thanksgivings, Christmases, girls, and Jobs.”

I looked at him, trying to understand.

“There is only one way out of this. Only one of us can live.”

I backed away from the crazy man, and then he entered the living room where I stood. I turned on the light, and there in front of me was a thinner, paler, dirtier version of myself. I didn’t know what to think. This guy, who looked exactly like me, had been through hell. You could see it on his face. That is how I knew it was me or him.  

Suddenly, flashes of memory began to surface. I recalled crawling out of the ground the night of the “ritual,” I was faster, wiser, and better equipped for life than my predecessor. I was the better version of him- of me. 

He ran at me with the knife and nearly got me. I grabbed a lamp and hit him over the head with it. 

Before I knew it, the wiry man was on top of me with the knife inches from my face. 

Then a knock at my door. 

He turned to look, and I pushed him onto his back and stabbed him. 

I cut him right into his throat. The knocking at my door was still going. 

I got up, blinked a few times, and ran to the door.

It was my neighbor, Dan. 

“You okay? I heard a” that is when he saw the body.

“Thank god you saved me,” I said. “The knocking caused this maniac to turn away long enough for me to defend myself.”

My neighbor, Dan, helped me call the police as I was a bit of shock. The cops came and took the man away. They saw the evidence of the struggle and the broken window – which is how he got inside my apartment.   

I wasn’t charged with anything. It was a clear case of self-defense.  

The following day, a considerable concern had been lifted. No more did I have to worry about this doppelganger. The truth was- I was the doppelganger, and I had now successfully taken over the life of my look-a-like. 

No more would I be unsure of myself, have worries or anxiety. No, I was the better version of ME.