I grew up with two brothers and one sister. My sister is ten years younger than me and my brothers are six and four years older. Twins don’t run in my family - in fact my family’s quite small. Most of them chose not to have any kids, so the likelihood of anybody having twins is very small. But, for some strange reason, people seem to think I am a twin.
This only started two months ago. My name is Carly, just Carly, nothing else other than Carls. My ‘twin’ is named Penny. I’ve never seen her and there is no evidence she exists. People show me photos she’s apparently in and there is absolutely no one who could possibly be her in any of them. We’re supposed to be identical, so I’d know if there was a me (or a second me) in a photo. There never is.
It started with a phone call with my mother. It was just a normal call, her checking in on me and updating me on things at home, when she said something that for some reason gave me chills.
“Penny misses you, she keeps sleeping in your bed and saying how weird it is not having her best friend here.”
“I’ve already been gone for a year, when will she- wait, who’s Penny?” was my response. At first I’d assumed she was talking about my little sister, Polly, when it clicked she’d said Penny.
“Are you joking? Penny. Your sister?”
“Do you mean Polly, mum?”
“No, I’m talking about Penny. You know, that girl you spent nine months in my womb with? The one you’ve spent almost every second with for the past 20 years?”
“Mum, I have no clue what you’re on about and I’ve got to go. I love you, I’ll speak to you later.”
That was the end of the conversation. I went to work and thought long and hard about what that possibly could’ve been about. One of my coworkers, Jay, noticed I was lost in thought and asked if I was alright.
“Hm? Oh, yeah, just daydreaming.”
“Still missing Penny?”
Huh? Who the fuck is Penny?
“What was that?”
“I asked if you’re still missing Penny. You wouldn’t stop talking about her yesterday and now you’re dead quiet.”
“Who’s Penny?”
“Your twin? At least that’s what you told me.”
I didn’t say anything back. I don’t know anyone called Penny. I 100% never told anyone I have a twin sister, and I don’t really miss any of my siblings. I see Drew and Miles quite regularly and I was relieved when I moved out and didn’t have Polly stealing my makeup and clothes anymore. Who could Jay have been talking about? Who could my mother have been talking about? I then realised I’d been saying I missed my dogs yesterday, but that didn’t explain the whole twin sister thing. I went home not long after that conversation and decided to ask my roommate, Cleo, about it.
“Have I ever mentioned someone called Penny to you?” I asked.
“Once or twice. She’s your twin sister, right?”
“No. I don’t know anyone called Penny, but my mum and Jay seem to think I do.”
I explained everything to Cleo and she seemed confused. She told me she’d seen pictures of Penny on my instagram and showed me them - but I remembered posting those, and there was no Penny in any of them. She said I should go see a doctor and that’s exactly what I did. He asked to speak to my mother and after that she shouted at me. Said whatever this was, I better stop because it’s not funny, then hung up. But I wasn’t joking. I don’t know a Penny.
After that, things seemed to get weird. People mentioned Penny more and more and occasionally I’d ignore it or just nod my head, but after a while it became frustrating. I was perfectly mentally and physically healthy, I knew I hadn’t just forgotten or gone crazy. There is no Penny.
On Monday of this week, something even weirder happened. I got a text from an unknown number that just said, “Sto p telling peiplr im not resl.” I messaged back “Who is this?” but got no response despite the message being read immediately. I sent the number to my mum and asked if she knew who’s it was and she said it was Penny’s. I’d had enough. Every time someone mentioned Penny, I’d say I don’t know a Penny. I’d say I don’t have a twin sister. I’d say she doesn’t exist.
People started to become angrier with me, though. They’d shout at me, even threaten me, if I said she isn’t real. And the texts became more frequent.
“I wm rdal”
“You kn ow md”
“Stip lyinv”
“Stopo r elsed”
“Carrly ig y oh u dont stop ill have fo stop you”
They’re not entirely illegible, but there’s something seriously wrong with them. Whoever sends them never replies to my messages and when I block the number, they still manage to text me. I’ve even had a few missed calls from it. Today I answered.
The sounds that came from the other end were horrifying. Screams, scrapes, crashes, roars. The worst part was the grainy, deep voice that just said, “I’m coming for you.”
Before I could say anything back, they hung up. I tried to tell Cleo but she wasn’t home - a note on the fridge said she was at her girlfriend’s place and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. None of my family or friends answered my messages or calls. It’s been 6 hours since I got that call and someone’s banging on my door. I don’t know how much longer I have until whatever it is gets in. I’m scared to leave my room. I have no way of getting out of the apartment. I’m trapped and there’s nothing I can do.