The Summer Of Doubles

The Summer of the Doubles

The summer heat had always felt like an endless stretch of sunburns and popsicles for Jess, who was twelve. Her best friend, Ben, was one year younger but always ready for whatever adventure she threw at him. The two of them spent their days riding bikes down the long, winding streets of their small town, sneaking into the woods behind the old mill, and making up stories about monsters and buried treasure. But this summer was different. Jess could feel it in the air.

“Something’s wrong,” she said one afternoon, glancing at Ben as they sat by the creek, tossing rocks into the water.

Ben, who was always the more skeptical of the two, raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? It’s summer. Everything’s fine.”

Jess wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t just the humidity or the way the grass looked a little greener this year, or the fact that she had started to notice the adults acting strange—it was something deeper. A feeling that twisted her stomach every time she walked past the corner store or looked out her window. It was like someone—or something—was watching her.

“Have you noticed,” she started slowly, “that more and more people are acting weird? Like, they’re… different. And the kids, especially.”

Ben frowned, his forehead crinkling. “What do you mean?”

“Like… they’re not the same. I don’t know how to explain it, but some of them look like… like their faces are blank.” Jess said this slowly, unsure if she was making sense.

Ben stared at her, and for a long second, Jess felt his eyes flicker. He wasn’t worried. No, he looked like… he didn’t believe her. But there was something else—something unsettling that Jess couldn’t quite pin down. She shifted uneasily. “It’s not just me, right?”

Ben gave a half-hearted shrug. “You’re probably imagining things. We’ve been out in the sun too long. Maybe you need a break from all the mystery stuff.”

But Jess couldn’t shake the feeling. It gnawed at her every time she went outside, every time she saw the town’s children playing or walking home from school. They all looked… off. Not in a glaringly obvious way, but subtly. Like they’d been replaced, bit by bit. It was like the more she looked, the more they didn’t seem real.

That evening, when the sun was setting and the sky was painted with hues of orange and purple, Jess couldn’t stand it anymore. She needed answers. She grabbed her flashlight and slipped out the back door of her house. Ben had gone home for dinner, but Jess knew she had to get to the bottom of this on her own.

She made her way through the streets, quietly navigating past the familiar houses until she reached the old mill. It had always been the setting for their wildest adventures, the place where they pretended ghosts roamed or where hidden treasure was buried. But tonight, it felt different. The wind was still. Too still.

The mill’s rusted doors creaked open as Jess pushed her way inside, the sound echoing in the empty space. Her flashlight flickered, casting eerie shadows across the cracked floorboards. There, in the corner of the mill, was a pile of clothes—neatly folded, but covered in dust. A chill ran down Jess’s spine as she crept closer.

Then she saw it: a reflection in the dusty glass window of the mill’s loft. A boy, standing there, looking right at her. But it wasn’t Ben. The boy was younger, thinner, with dark hair that hung just a little too perfectly. Jess froze.

“Ben?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

The boy didn’t move. Jess’s heart skipped a beat. This was the moment—she knew she wasn’t imagining things anymore.

Suddenly, she felt a presence behind her. She spun around, only to find Ben standing there in the doorway, his eyes wide with confusion.

“Jess? What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice unsteady.

But Jess couldn’t answer. Her mind was racing. The boy she’d seen… the one in the window—he looked just like Ben. No. Not just like him. Exactly like him.

She ran back to Ben, grabbing his arm. “Ben! There’s something wrong. There’s a boy inside the mill, and he—”

But Ben pulled away, his expression growing more distant. “What are you talking about? I’ve been right here. You okay?”

“No, I’m not!” Jess exclaimed. “I saw someone else in there, and he looked exactly like you! I swear, he—”

“Calm down, okay?” Ben said in a way that didn’t sound like the usual Ben at all. “You need to go home.”

Jess recoiled, stunned by the flatness of his voice. This wasn’t her best friend anymore. She didn’t know who was standing in front of her.

With a shaking hand, she turned and bolted out of the mill, running straight home. The world felt suddenly wrong. It was as if she had stepped into a different version of her town—a version that wasn’t her own. A version where the kids, the ones who were supposed to be her friends, were nothing but hollow echoes of the real ones.

The next day, Jess returned to the mill, determined to get to the bottom of it. She wasn’t going to back down now. As she entered the building once more, the air felt thick, like the walls themselves were holding their breath. The lights of the old mill flickered on, and the shadows twisted, stretching out like long fingers.

This time, the boy wasn’t in the loft. But something else was. A strange metallic scent hung in the air, and as Jess approached the back room, she gasped. There, lying on the floor, was an object wrapped in black plastic. With trembling hands, she peeled it away, revealing a lifeless, perfect replica of herself.

A chilling thought hit her all at once: The kids were being replaced. Not just replaced, but reproduced. These weren’t just doppelgangers—they were clones. Clones of every child in town, engineered and left to replace the originals.

Jess stumbled back, her heart racing. How long had it been going on? How many of her friends, her classmates, her neighbors, had already been replaced? She had no idea. All she knew was that she was next.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut behind her. Jess spun around and saw Ben standing in the doorway, his eyes blank, empty—nothing like the boy she had known.

“I told you to go home,” Ben said in that eerily calm voice.

Jess could only stare, a sense of dread creeping up her spine. Her mind screamed to run, but her legs wouldn’t move. The boy—the clone—was already too close.

“I was always here,” he whispered, his face now twisted into something that wasn’t quite Ben. “And you were never real. You’re the last one.”

Cliffhanger Ending:

The flashlight dropped from Jess’s hands, its beam casting a shaky line across the floor. The last thing she saw was the boy’s hand reaching out toward her, and the door slowly closing behind her.

The town was full of doubles now.

And Jess was about to become the last one left—replaced.

To be continued…