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The Interrogation
“Hailey, I just want the truth,” he said.
My eyes linger too long on his. My entire body feels heavy. I look down, fidgeting with my hands, trying to appear natural. It comes out forced.
“I want to make it clear—you’re not in trouble, Hailey. I just want to understand. What happened that night?”
I stay silent. After two minutes, he clears his throat. I glance up; he looks tired. Relief washes over me. Does this mean I can go home now?
“Hailey, I’m not asking for too much. I know the last few years have been tough on you. What happened wasn’t your fault. Whatever guilt you’ve been carrying, trust me, it has no place here. But what happened last night is crucial. Please, tell me.”
I can’t tell him. They always say that—"Trust us. You’re not in trouble. We just want to talk.” But I know the truth. If I tell, I’ll be sent to a mental asylum if I’m lucky—or worse, a jail cell. I can’t change what I’ve done. It’s only a matter of time, and I’m trying to save as much as I can.
“Hailey,” he said, his voice softer.
I purse my lips. He shuffles the documents, ready to stand. “I did it,” I blurt out.
He freezes, his eyes shifting from pity to something else—fear? Disgust? He exhales, jotting something down, then looks me dead in the eye. He seems about to speak but doesn’t. I don’t blame him.
He rises from the chair, a strange noise echoing in the room—like a distant whisper, though we’re alone. The room feels colder, the walls closer. He turns back to me, expression unreadable.
“Hailey, stay here. I’ll be right back.”
He leaves, the door clicking shut. The light flickers, casting long shadows that dance across the walls. A chill runs down my spine.
The door creaks open again. A young woman in a uniform steps in, her face pale, expressionless. She stares at me with empty eyes.
“What… what do you want?” I stammer, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she steps aside, revealing another figure behind her—me. Or something that looks like me.
Same bun, same glasses, but her eyes are hollow, her skin drained of color.
“I did it,” she says, her voice mirroring mine. “And now it’s your turn.”
She steps forward, her hand reaching out. I try to move, but my body won’t respond. I’m frozen in place.
“You’ve been trying to save time, Hailey,” she whispers. “But time’s up. It’s time to pay the price.”
Her hand touches mine. Everything goes black.
I wake up in the interrogation room, drenched in sweat. The man is back, calm as ever.
“Hailey, please tell me exactly what you did.”
I glance at the mirror and freeze. The reflection isn’t mine. It’s hers.
“I killed her,” I hear myself say.
The man nods, satisfied. And it’s the truth. I’m dead. I’ve been replaced.
The old Hailey is gone, and it’s all my fault.
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