Thunder crackled and rumbled as lightning split the sky. Gusts of wind picked up but were dropped moments later, as if forgotten. Visibility was hampered by an even dispersal of droplets from above. The twilight was broken only by streetlights dotting the sides of the street and faint illumination which shone from the modest houses set back in their yards. A car or two drove by, headlights refracting through droplets that seemed to momentarily hang in the air, but otherwise, the street was empty.

The soft but steady pitter-patter of raindrops on the treetops became punctuated by the rhythmic slapping of rubber against concrete, and the occasional splashing of miniscule puddles collecting on imperfections in the seemingly flat surface. A figure passed underneath the glow of a light, revealing frizzy brown hair popping out from underneath a nondescript black hood. The figure quickly glanced up and down the street without stopping its movement, then dashed across, nearly slipping when stepping back up to the sidewalk above the curb.

“Whoa- shi- fuck!”

To an onlooker, had there been one, the hooded silhouette might have previously seemed almost mysterious and dignified in its haste.

It could no longer justify this description.

This was only a momentary setback, however, as the figure quickly regained its footing and pressed onwards.

Just three more… four more blocks? Is that the alley? Yeah, three blocks.

Allie could just make out the side of the complex’s parking lot, every visitor space occupied. Made sense, considering it was a Friday night and her condo community was known to be host to get-togethers of a certain rowdy nature. One such conference of intellectuals was to take place at her apartment soon that evening, and she had yet to prepare. Rugs had to be stowed, punch mixed, chips… well, not dipped, but prepared for future dippage.

A streetlight, this one hanging over an intersection, illuminated a stop sign. Above the sign were two names, positioned perpendicularly to each other: West 34^th St and Maple St. Between Maple and Pine was the alley she sought, and through it she could access the back door of her apartment. It was a little odd having a back door in an apartment, she had thought when touring, especially one that directly connected her bedroom to the parking lot, but its utility became apparent during move-in after the moving van had been able to pull right up to the building, just two doors down and no stairs to heave boxes up or down.

As she came to the end of the sidewalk before the alleyway, she became aware that something was off. In this instance, quite literally off, as the light meant to illuminate the alley intersection had seemingly gone out. Between the alleyway in front of her and the parking lot was a slab of concrete that supported the building’s dumpster, which was also meant to be made apparent by the lamp that had ceased to be. Over the large dark silhouette of the bin, she could just make out the meager porch light illuminating apartment 103: home.

Almost there.

A quick glance to the left was all she needed to confirm that no car would cross her path, and she pushed off the curb and leapt into the gravel-strewn alleyway, as she had done many times before.

Usually, however, it wasn’t raining.

Her right foot shot out backwards, but the momentum from the run kept her upper body going forwards. Her left foot tried in vain to grab purchase on the ground, but wet asphalt covered in miniscule rocks did not make for steady purchase; it, too, lost the battle and collapsed sideways in a sudden twisting motion. She flung her arms down in a desperate attempt at protecting her face from the ground as she plunged into the pitch-black space, instinct hoping to lead her hands to solid ground and avoid contact between head and slab.

Unfortunately for her, all they found was water.

* * *

Nothing.

Darkness.

Weightlessness.

Timelessness.

No self.

No sense.

No… air.

Can’t… breathe!

Eyes opened.

Not that it made a difference.

Air… Air!

Panic.

Twisting and turning violently in all directions.

Up?! Which way?!? I can’t find it!

Terror.

Lungs on fire.

Never was that good a swimmer.

Could only hold breath for maybe twenty seconds, max.

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFU-

And then, dim enough to be almost indistinguishable from its surroundings.

GOD PLEASE I’M SORRY

The faintest light, burning with the intensity of a lighthouse beacon to an asphyxiating brain.

I DON’T WANT TO DIE

Kicking, thrashing, clawing up towards the light.

Was it the moon?

Didn't matter.

PLEASE GOD PLEASE

Had to breathe.

Lungs filled.

No air.

Coughing.

Convulsing.

DYING.

 

 

LET ME LI

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nothing.

* * *

Under the dim, flickering light of a streetlamp laid a black coat.

It held a body, face down in a puddle of water and gravel, no more than three inches deep.

There was no movement.

The only sound, the light taps of drizzle on a nylon surface.

A sudden flash and clap of thunder came from above, and the body shot up from the puddle with an inhuman gasping and wheezing and coughing. Water sprayed out of its mouth and nose with each forced exhale, and streamed out its eyes in the form of tears. Arms shaking, it collapsed to one side. It made a few more beleaguered sounds, and finally stopped moving.

But she lived.

She’d almost drowned in a fucking three-inch body of water, but she lived.

Allie opened her eyes.

“Jesus… fuck… christ…” she wheezed.

She had no energy to move from where she was. Her lungs, esophagus, nose all burned with the intensity of a white-hot flame. The most she felt she had the energy to do was lie there, breathe, and try to ignore the pain.

I almost fucking died.

Of course it was a hilariously miniscule puddle that almost did her in. She’d drank glasses of water with more volume. How fittingly ridiculous an end to her ridiculous existence that would have been. She tried to chuckle, but it devolved into a coughing fit instead as her body forced the last few droplets of water out of her lungs.

Slowly collecting herself, Allie rolled onto her hands and knees before gently coming to her feet. Still a bit woozy from her near-death brush with the fucking puddle, she leaned against the dumpster for support. Ordinarily she would be retching from the odor of (at the very least) three days’ worth of food waste, but she was so grateful just to be standing upright and breathing anything that wasn’t liquid that she didn’t mind. A few more shaky breaths and she felt capable of walking under her own pow-

“OW FUCK SHIT”

Her ankle. That’s right, she’d twisted it just before falling, hadn’t she? Yes, she lived, yadda yadda yadda, but ow. At the very least, she’d have a story to tell at the party while sitting on the couch and icing her ankle all night. Stepping very gingerly, hopping on her right foot a bit while using various cars as support, she hobbled her way across the parking lot and to the rear door of apartment 103. A bike was locked up to a pole supporting the walkway above, annoyingly right in front of her door, which forced her to make an awkward hopping maneuver to get around it while still being able to use the pole as a stabilizer. She rested her shoulder on the door as she fished her jingling key ring out of the pocket of her loose jeans. The porch light glinted off the key for the apartment as she inserted it into the lock.

Turning it did not yield any results, though. The deadbolt appeared to be stuck, and no matter how much effort she put in, the mechanism refused to budge. She pounded on the door in frustration, realizing she would have to figure out a way to either hop around the side of the building or take the stairs over the first floor to get to the front door with a hopefully working mechanism, and neither solution sounded particularly appealing at that moment.

Just as she was coming to the conclusion that at least the stairs had handrails and she could hop up them as she held on, the door opened and, with a yelp, she collapsed into the apartment.

Or rather, into a pair of hairy arms and a warm, tingly t-shirt.

“Ah?!” their owner squeaked. Getting ahold of the door jamb, she pulled herself off her surprised savior, pivoting on her one good ankle, and stood up properly once more to face them.

She only got a moment of realization that something was wrong about this person being in her apartment before something else struck her that completely wiped out that burgeoning feeling:

It’s like looking into a tall, hairy mirror.

“Who… what?!” the dark-bearded intruder exclaimed, stepping back from the door in apparent surprise. His words shook her enough to break through her trance.

“I- I should be asking you that, fucker! What the hell are you doing in my apartment?!” She quickly shoved her free hand into her coat pocket to pull out her phone, but it was empty. Probably fell out in the puddle incident, she realized. She needed to act fast, though, before the guy’s shock wore off and he made a move to stop her. She took a deep breath as fast as she could, but before she had the chance to scream, he put his finger to his lips.

“Ssssh, no no no, don’t scream! Let’s talk things out first! I swear, I’m not gonna hurt you!”

“And exactly why should I believe you?” she exclaimed. “You broke into my apartment, into my room even, and…”

As she mentioned her bedroom, her eyes darted to the side, looking past the guy into the room beyond. What made her trail off was the fact that everything was… wrong. She looked up at the number on the door just to confirm – 103. One hundred three. And the shape of the room was right, the doors and bed and furniture were all just about where they should be, and it almost looked about right, but it was wrong.

Everything was wrong.

As Allie looked around the bedroom with ever-widening eyes of disbelief, the stranger observed her with a mixture of concern and confusion apparent on his face.

“'Your room…? Are… are you okay?”

She looked back up at him, then back at the numbers on the door, then back at him, then winced in pain as she dazedly tried to lean back on her sprained ankle. Noticing this, the guy quickly offered his hand.

“You need to sit down? Did you roll your ankle or something?” She nodded. Hesitating for a moment, he added, “Here, come on inside. Better if you sit on a chair or something and not the wet ground out there.” Not really sure what to say, or what was going on, or how to get her brain unfrozen, she took the stranger’s hand and hopped into her (his?) apartment. He nudged the door closed behind them as he guided her over to a stool placed next to an electronic keyboard, then opened the door to the living room (presumably, as that's where it should have taken him).

“Hey, just… just stay there a sec, I’ll get you some ice,” he stammered before turning back and heading toward the kitchen. She didn’t respond, as her brain was still mush, and she was too busy absorbing everything about her – not her, his – bedroom.

Generally, things were similar but the details were off. Like the bed – where there had once been a rather plain faded pink comforter with an abstract circular geometric design, there was now a rather plain faded gray comforter with an abstract circular geometric design. The desk looked more or less the same, but the right-hand monitor had migrated to the left, and the disorder on the desk top itself was far worse than the few papers laying on her own. The electronic keyboard she sat at, dusty from disuse, took the place of the viola that she’d been made to learn at the age of seven. The posters around the room were more or less the same, but framed instead of hung with sticky tack.

And of course, there was the matter of the intruder (?) who may not have been in the room at that exact moment, but was still a big detail.

It all added up to being quite a bit to process, so Allie’s brain stopped trying and decided she had stumbled into to the wrong apartment in her ankle-pained haze. Definitely not some form of denial, no ma'am.

As she struggled to pull her rain boots off without hurting herself any further (impossible on the left side, it seemed), the guy came back in the room clutching a towel-wrapped bundle. “Okay good, I was scared you might have been pulling some elaborate scheme to rob me blind or something. In which case, I would have been mad, but commended you for impressive acting skills,” he chuckled. “Right before calling the police, of course.”

She snorted at this as she finally freed her remaining foot from its rubber prison. “And you have something that would be worth going through all that trouble to obtain, I’m sure. This keyboard made of solid gold or something?” He smirked, then handed her the towel, which was cold to the touch, and she placed it on her mostly-dry ankle. Instant icy burning relief. “Treating me pretty well for a would-be robber,” she quipped.

He shrugged and went to pull over the computer chair perched in front of the desk; again, very similar to hers but in a slightly-stained blue instead of a faded seafoam green. Sitting down, he gave her a wry smile. “I dunno, I couldn’t just let you run around breaking into any other apartments with that shoddy twisted ankle story.” He paused. “Though I guess it’s not exactly breaking and entering if I just went and opened the door for you, huh?”

Allie held back a second snort. Whoever he was, he had jokes. “Probably not, because then there’s just the entering part which might not be enough for any charges to stick. Like a vampire and her unwilling victim, you let me in of your own free will, so now you must suffer the consequences… uh…” She trailed off as she remembered, once again, that despite how comfortable the conversation felt, she didn’t know who this guy actually was, or what he was doing in her… his… fuckin’ someone’s apartment.

He seemed to get the meaning behind ‘uh’ pretty easily, though. “Yeah, I guess we didn’t have a formal introduction yet, thanks to… all that over there.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the exterior door. He took a breath to continue speaking, but as if he had conjured it with a very indistinct hand-wavey magical spell, there was a sudden violent, yet rhythmic, pounding on the door.

SLAMSLAM SLAM SLAMSLAM SLAM… SLAM.

Super Mario Bros…? Is that Kat? No, why would she be here?

Kat was her good friend from school who always did the same knock when she arrived at someone’s apartment. She would use all her mousy strength to beat the shit out of whichever door happened to be that day’s victim. Usually, though, her hand was the only thing that could be called a 'victim’ after she was done.

The guy whose name she still did not know DAMN IT jumped up from the chair, sending it careening backwards into the desk. “Shit, she’s early! Like, an hour early!” he whisper-yelled. He hurriedly turned to Allie, who was still nursing her hopefully-not-broken-yeah-probably-not ankle, then looked back to the door. “Oh, this does not make me look good right now,” he muttered. “Quick, what’s your na-”

“YO AL, SHIT OR GET OFF YOUR PHONE, YOU’VE GOT VISITOR! YES, JUST THE ONE!”

Well, that was Kat all right. But here…?

Before either of them could make a move, the knob quickly turned and the door burst open, crashing against the wall and widening the existing gouge carved by the absence of a doorstop. Kat was posing triumphantly in the entryway. Judging by the bootprint above the kickplate, she had pummeled the door in with all her might. She was wearing her usual attire, a fishnet top and stockings combined with a leather corset and skirt, in a style she called “goth-adjacent”. Allie once tried to ask if that was just “goth but also cute cat accessories to exemplify your disinterest in the emo parts” but was met with a disappointed eye-roll, and later a reluctant shrug when Kat realized she was more right than originally thought.

“Hey, you left your key in the door, dumba…” Kat, holding Allie’s apartment key, took stock of the room and trailed away when she saw Allie nursing her ankle on the stool and the anonymous human standing over her. “Oh shit, uh, hi there, uh, what’s all this…?” she hesitated, seemingly attempting to get them to forget that she had just been yelling about expelling excrement. As Kat gently closed the door behind her in a stark contrast to how she had entered, Allie let out the breath she’d been unconsciously holding until that point.

 “Hey Kat, uh, yeah I’m not exactly sure what’s going on either but I rolled my ankle outside and this guy’s helping me ice it down so I can maneuver back to my place without so much pain. Did you see me stumble in here or something…?”

“Uh, hello to you too I guess, I’m just here for the game night…” She squinted at Allie, then furrowed her brow. “You know me? Have… we met before?”

Allie smirked. Classic Kat, always wanting to fuck with her and make confusing situations even more confusing. Yup, that was what was up. “Oh yeah, no, totally, never met before,” she quipped, her voice soaked with sarcasm. “My name’s Allie Cardona, and oh wait, lemme guess, you’re Kat Murray, currently attending Salinas U, getting a degree in computer enginee – no, hold on, the spirits are whispering at me – computer science! Yeah, I have a connection to the spirit world, be impressed.” She grinned, waiting for the ‘forth’ part of the back-and-forth to be served her way.

But Kat’s eyes just widened, before relaxing her expression a second later and chuckling. “Okay Al, way to scheme together to creep me out,” she said… to the stranger for some reason? “Do I even have to introduce myself now? And ‘Allie Cardona’” — she punctuated her name with exaggerated air quotes — “what, is she meant to be your long-lost twin sister or something?” she chortled, turning to Allie before squinting once more. “Honestly though, she almost looks the part, so GG finding her.”

What the hell…? Do they know each other? Are they both fucking with me or something? The shit’s going on?

Before Allie could respond, the guy piped up. “Uh, hey Kat, this is… weird, huh.” He stepped to Kat and… gave her a quick peck on the lips??

WHAT the FUCK? Is she DATING this GUY?!

He reached back to grab the computer chair and was quickly sitting once again. “No, I’m not a part of whatever scheme this may or may not be. I didn’t tell her anything about you, or…” He glanced at Allie. “…myself, for that matter.” He had an expression that seemed to be somewhere between confused and concerned for his own safety. “She twisted her ankle outside on the walkway, so I offered to help her out. I don’t actually know her, or how she knows all that info about you.”

Allie had to interject. “Y’all, are you trying to fuck with me? Come on, Kat, it’s me. Allie. We met freshman year in that randomly-assigned student group? One of the first things you said to me was ‘bow to me, for I am your god now’? And last I heard, you weren’t dating this guy, or any guy for that matter.”

Kat got real flustered, real fast. “What the actual hell, Allan?? Did you tell her our entire sordid backstory in order to fully freak me out tonight?”

Finally, his name! Wait, Allan? ‘Our backstory’??

This ‘Allan’ character had just been staring at Allie at this point, lips pressed tightly together. Facing Kat, he blurted out, “No, I swear to christ, I only just met her like five minutes ago, max!” To Allie: “How the dick do you know any of that?! Even if you were stalking us, there’s no way you could have found out about that random-ass moment from freshman year! Did Tim or someone else from the group put you up to this, or are you trying to steal my identity but in, like, the shittiest way imaginable?”

At this, Allie exploded.

“No, that’s OUR backstory! Me and Kat’s! Not yours! She’s my friend! This is my room! My apartment!” A lightbulb went off in her head. She haphazardly wrested her faded Super Nintendo wallet from her front jean pocket. She yanked out her state ID and very nearly threw it at Allan in her haste to show it to him face forward. “SEE?! 3400 MAPLE GOD DAMN STREET, MOTHERFUCKING APARTMENT 103!”

Allan quickly snatched the card away from her, giving her a static shock in the process. She yelped. He stared intently at it, then turned it over, and back again. Kat kneeled down, took it from him, and did the same.

“That’s… a fake, right? Just something else to steal my identity with…?” Allan seemed to be struggling to be coherent. “But you're a girl, so how would that even…” He looked like his brain was fried, and was just staring into the middle distance, through Allie instead of at her. Kat, on the other hand, was deep in thought, staring intently at the plastic card in front of her.

“Give me your ID, Allan.”

Without changing his expression, or even looking away from Allie, Allan pulled out a worn-out Super Nintendo wallet what the fuck and took out his own ID, handing it to Kat. Her eyes darted back and forth between both cards.

“Dude, what the fuuu… They’re exactly the same. Same birthday, same license number, same printing date and expiration, even the same codes on the back. And it’s legit, from what I could tell. It’s like she copied your deets exactly but just…”

She looked up, her suddenly wide eyes darting back and forth between Allie and Allan’s faces.

“…changed the gender.”

In that moment, something seemed to click into place.

Only to immediately fall right back out of place because it was god damn loopy.

Ridiculous, insane shit.

Allie had to be fucking losing it to even consider this.

“Allan…” she started, unsure if she should finish.

His eyes refocused on her. “Yeah?”

She sighed, steeling herself for confusion and/or ridicule.

“…What was your first ever memory?”

“Uhhhh…” Allan seemed taken aback. “Well… I was like three or something and I accidentally broke a cassette tape that came with a Happy Meal because my little yellow and blue cassette player ate it, and-”

“And the point of view of that mental image is of you looking through the doorway of the bathroom from the hallway, with all the tape spilling out of the cassette, twisted up beyond repair-” Allie continued.

“And then later, Mom took me back to the drive-thru so I could ask for another tape despite it driving her nuts…?” Allan finished, suddenly focusing intently on Allie, eyes like saucers.

Allie blinked.

No fucking way.

“Oh shit,” Kat gasped, reading Allie’s expression. She put her hand up to her mouth, bracelets jangling.

Absolutely NO FUCKING WAY.

This couldn’t be real.

Allie’s eyes jumped back around the familiar-yet-unfamiliar room. They landed on the photo frame she kept on her bedside table. She threw the towel to one side, ice scattering everywhere, and hobbled over to the table, steadying herself on the edge of the bed.

There, on the nightstand, was a photo of her family from a trip to the beach at North Padre taken a few years ago. She’d seen it a million times before. Mom, Dad, Danny, and…

Allan.

Allan was there, and he should not have been, as that was where she was meant to be.

She turned back towards the real thing, eyes wide open, eyebrows through the roof. He had the same expression, but with his thumb and middle finger stretching across his forehead, pinching his temples. A familiar look of frustration and disbelief.

They stared. It felt like ages, but was in reality probably more like five seconds. In any case, it was enough for Kat.

“Y’all see what this means, right?”

They both turned to face her, but couldn’t stop glancing furtively at each other.

“…This is all an elaborate prank being played on me by the group?” Allie asked, meekly.

“She’s very confused about how identity theft works and thinks she needs to live here in order to take out loans in my name…?” Allan’s suggestion was just as weak.

“Gah! No!” Kat shot up from the floor in exasperation. “She looks just like you before you grew out your scruffy beard! She knows all this shit about us and even your first memory, but we’ve never so much as seen her before! Either this is the mother of all pranks, or something truly insane is happening here.”

Allie said nothing.

It just isn’t possible. I refuse to accept that this is possible.

Allan also stayed silent.

“Well if y’all aren’t going to say it out loud, I absolutely will!” Kat had an expression of both giddy glee at what she had figured out and disbelief at what exactly that entailed.

But… what if?

“You two are the same damn person from two different realities!” she squealed in excitement. “This has to be some honest to god, no bullshit, parallel universe fuckery!”