The Impostor Next Door Wants Me Dead / Chapter 3: Daybreak
The Impostor Next Door Wants Me Dead

The Impostor Next Door Wants Me Dead

Author: Rachel Ortiz

Chapter 3: Daybreak

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Ding ding ding—

Ding ding ding—

Ding ding ding—

My phone alarm rang right on time, yanking me out of a heavy, dreamless sleep. The sun was already painting stripes across my face through the battered blinds, and the smell of burnt toast from a neighbor’s apartment drifted in.

I swiped off the alarm and checked the time: eight o’clock. Not late, but not early enough to skip work without a call-in.

I patted my puffy face, feeling the creases from my pillowcase. Even in danger, I could still sleep so soundly? Guess my body had reached its breaking point.

The screen showed 99+ missed calls and messages. I stared at the number, unsettled.

Guess I’m popular with the robocallers—or something worse.

I opened my call log. The calls had come nonstop from midnight all the way to six in the morning—relentless, like a telemarketer possessed.

This…

Staring at the long list of missed calls, a chill crept over me, pooling at the base of my spine.

Swallowing, I gritted my teeth and climbed out of bed, my legs stiff. I moved quietly, as if not to disturb something lurking just out of sight.

As long as I pretend I know nothing, they shouldn’t be able to do anything to me. That’s what the software said, right? Just play dumb.

Should be…

I can’t just hide at home forever—I still have to go out. There was work, bills, groceries. Life didn't stop for nightmares.

As for calling the police? Out of the question. Who would believe a story about impostors? They’d probably send me straight to a psych ward, or worse, post my call on the local Facebook group for laughs.

I opened the door, heart pounding in my throat, half-expecting something to leap at me from the shadows.

The living room was quiet, everything deathly still. I scanned every corner, the morning sun making dust motes dance in the air.

Good thing I closed the sliding door last night. My eyes froze on the bell lying on the floor beneath it.

Looks like something tried to come in from the balcony during the night. I pictured the bell falling, jingling softly, while I slept oblivious.

I picked up the bell and gave it a gentle shake. The sound was clear and crisp, a tiny reminder of normalcy.

Ding dong—

The bell rang out clearly, sunlight glinting off its dull surface.

It had fallen, but I’d slept right through it. Unbelievable.

No words could express my pig-like ability to sleep through danger. I shook my head, half amused, half horrified.

I quickly washed up, splashing cold water on my face, trying to shake off the lingering dread. I packed my bag, grabbed my keys, and planned to head out and catch the bus—business as usual.

Creak—

I opened the door a crack and scanned the hallway, holding my breath. No one in sight. Just the familiar beige carpet and flickering fluorescent lights.

Whew.

I let out a long breath, slipped out, and closed the door quietly behind me, double-checking the lock.

Out of the corner of my eye—

I saw Mr. Fisher standing motionless behind the door, his hollow gaze fixed on me.

"I’ve finally been waiting for you."

My heart stuttered as his words echoed down the empty hallway. The air felt thick, every instinct screaming at me to run. The city buzzed on outside, but here, in this slice of morning, I was utterly, terrifyingly alone.

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