《Stalker :The impersonation》


 Who am I??

    I joined Instagram a while back, hoping to connect with people, to build friendships through casual chats and kindness. It started out normal¡ªharmless interactions, fleeting connections. Then, one day, I encountered him. He seemed ordinary at first, almost unremarkable. But something about him felt... off.


    He would repeatedly ask me out, and I dismissed it, thinking it was just another fleeting annoyance of online life. Days turned into months, months into years, but he never stopped. I tried ignoring him, blocking him, but he always found his way back, creating new accounts, forcing his presence into my digital space. At first, I pitied him. Later, I felt only frustration.


    When I finally confronted him, his reaction startled me. He scolded me, accusing me of abandonment, growing more aggressive with each exchange. His persistence turned unsettling. Blocking him wasn¡¯t enough¡ªhe would return, relentless as if drawn to me by some invisible thread.


    Then things escalated. He began contacting my friends under fake names, tricking them to extract my personal information. He sought me out like I was a puzzle he had to solve. When he got hold of my phone number, I decided it was time to vanish. I deleted everything¡ªmy accounts, my presence¡ªand changed my number, thinking I could outrun him.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    For a while, it worked. The silence was almost soothing. But then came the day I stumbled across myself. My old profile was resurrected. He had taken over my username, my photos, and even my phone number. He had become me.


    When I confronted him, his reply chilled me to the bone.


    "What¡¯s wrong?" he said, his tone almost amused. "It¡¯s me, Samaira. Don¡¯t you recognize yourself?"


    Disgust turned into dread. Something was very wrong. I tried to report him, but the world turned its back on me. My name vanished from records. My identity¡ªmy existence¡ªwas gone. My Aadhar number, my lifeline in the system, now belonged to him. Authorities dismissed me as a fraud, an illegal immigrant.


    Now I am hunted, a shadow chased for a crime I didn¡¯t commit, for a life stolen from me. As I write this, hiding in the corner of a boy¡¯s restroom, I wonder: how long before they catch me? How long before I disappear entirely?


    But the scariest part? Sometimes, in my reflection, I catch a glimpse of his face. His voice echoes in my mind, whispering things I don¡¯t remember saying.


    And now, I can¡¯t tell if I¡¯m running from him¡ªor if I am him.

 Hatred

    I''ve always been the best-at least, that''s how it was supposed to be. An engineer, fresh out of college, headhunted by the most prestigious firms. Highest placement? That was me. Perfect physique? All mine. Women whispered when I walked by, my colleagues admired me-envied me. I was the star. I was untouchable.


    But then... he appeared.


    He was nobody, just a shadow in the corners of my college, blending in with the walls, unnoticed by everyone-including me. I never even saw him during class. I would have remembered someone so... insignificant. But somehow, we both ended up at the same company, sharing the same department.


    I first noticed him staring.


    It wasn''t a casual glance, not a passing look. It was a fixed, hollow stare, like he was watching me through me. The intensity of it sent a cold ripple through my spine. At first, I thought I was imagining it, but no. He was there again the next day. Watching. Watching me work. Watching me breathe.


    So, I decided to approach him. Maybe I could knock the creepiness out of him. Show him who I was.


    "Hey," I said, trying to keep my voice light, but there was a weight to it. "We were in the same college, right? I saw you during placements."


    His response wasn''t what I expected. His eyes didn''t blink. His lips barely moved. "I hate you," he said, his voice flat and emotionless. "I''ll become just like you. Take your place. Soon."


    I laughed. I had to. What else could I do? A weird, bitter guy who had issues with me, sure, but nothing to worry about, right?


    That was the moment it all started. The feeling that something wasn''t right.


    I saw him follow me on Instagram. No likes, no comments-just silent, lurking in the shadows. It was unsettling, but I shrugged it off. Social media was full of people like him, right?


    But then, it went from strange to wrong.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    One morning, I came home to find him moving into the apartment across the hall. My hall. His eyes met mine as I stood there, frozen in disbelief. He didn''t even smile. Just... watched. He was my neighbor!!


    That was when the paranoia started. He took the same route to work, at the exact same time as me. He joined the gym I went to. Same workouts, same machines. Always behind me. I could feel his eyes on me even when I couldn''t see him.


    My office incharge praised him in front of me and said - He''s becoming me.. And he was proud of him


    I was confused and thought of seeing him


    He wasn''t just imitating my actions; he was becoming me.


    It was subtle at first, the way he changed. His walk. The way he talked. Even his smile started to look familiar-too familiar. I couldn''t shake the sensation that every time I looked at him, I was looking at myself, only... twisted. A grotesque parody.


    And then, the rumors started.


    Someone claimed I''d molested a woman-taken her dignity. It was a lie, a horrific lie. But the investigation was swift, and soon I was trapped. My colleagues turned on me like wolves, my friends vanished, my girlfriend left me without a word. Even my parents-they turned their backs on me.


    But it didn''t stop there.


    I began to lose myself. Sleep-deprived, stressed to the point of madness, I couldn''t focus. I couldn''t think. I couldn''t even breathe without feeling like he was right behind me, mocking my every move. I was fired. Left with nothing but the suffocating weight of my failures.


    The debt piled up. My credit cards, my bills-they all bled me dry. I was drowning in it, with no way out. No way to escape him.


    And then, the court case. The witnesses described a man with my height, my physique, my walk. They said he looked like me. They said he was the one who had committed the crime.


    But I knew it wasn''t me. I knew it. It was him. It had always been him. He had stolen my life, piece by piece, and left me with nothing but a mirror to reflect the twisted version of myself that he had become.


    Now I sit in this sterile, cold cell, hours from my death sentence. The countdown has begun. Tomorrow, they will execute me.


    But something''s off. I''ve been hearing things in the shadows. Whispers. Breathing.


    And then he appeared again.


    He stood there, in the doorway, watching me with that same smile-too wide, too perfect.


    "I''ve finally become you," he said.


    But his voice wasn''t his anymore. It was mine. It was my voice, my words-twisted and distorted, yet unmistakably mine.


    And then I realized. It wasn''t just his actions that were mimicking me. It was everything. The way he thought. The way he felt. He was me. Or at least, he thought he was.


    And as he stepped closer, I saw it-the reflection in his eyes. I wasn''t looking at him anymore. I was looking at myself.


    And I knew, with terrifying clarity, that when I die tomorrow, it won''t be me they''re executing.


    It''ll be him.


    The real me... is already gone.

 Creature

    It all began when I was fifteen, during a summer trip to Shimla with my friends. We were high in the Himalayas, and I was the outcast¡ªoverweight, clumsy, always struggling to keep up. The weight of my body, the awkwardness of my every movement, felt suffocating as we climbed the winding mountain trails. Everyone else was lighter, faster, more graceful. But I was the anchor dragging us all down.


    Then, something shifted. Midway through our hike, something caught my attention¡ªsomething... unseen. At first, it was just a sensation, a creeping feeling, like the mountain air itself had thickened with menace. We were not alone.


    The others felt it too. We heard noises coming from the dense, shadowy forests ahead, but when we looked, there was nothing. Nothing human. Our curiosity pulled us deeper. And then we saw it.


    A figure, standing at the edge of the trees, its body twisted in a grotesque blend of male and female. It looked... wrong. Not just in shape, but in the way it was there¡ªlike it didn''t belong in this world. My friends froze, their faces draining of color, the air thick with their screams. One by one, they broke down, crying, pleading for help, their voices lost in the wind.


    The creature''s gaze fixed on me. My bones felt cold, my heart raced. A scream, one that wasn''t my own, tore through me. My legs gave way, and I began to run, but the others were faster. I was left behind¡ªalone, trembling in the freezing cold.


    I ran until I couldn¡¯t anymore. I collapsed into the darkness, suffocating in the deep, suffocating silence.


    And then, it vanished.


    I stood there, trembling, confused, and found nothing¡ªjust empty space. Darkness. Had I died? Was this hell? Was this the end of everything? The final chapter?


    And yet... it wasn¡¯t. I woke up. Gasping, heart pounding. It was a prank¡ªjust a cruel joke. They''d all set it up to mock me. To humiliate me. They laughed. They called me weak, pathetic. They mocked my weight, my inability to run, to keep up. I could do nothing but stand there, my face burning with shame. I felt hopeless. I was hopeless


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.But something inside me snapped. I promised myself that I would change. I would transform. No more weakness. No more shame. I ran, I exercised, I meditated. Slowly, I shed the weight¡ªphysically, yes, but more importantly, emotionally. I became someone new. Someone... better. At least, that¡¯s what I thought.


    I looked in the mirror, and it was like looking at a stranger. Was this really me? Could it be? The man in the reflection was everything I had dreamed of... and yet, something was wrong. The image felt too perfect, too... unnatural.I woke up again. Was it another dream? Or had I been living in one all along? I didn''t know anymore.


    It was then I realized¡ªthe creature had never left. It had become me. The one I had worked so hard to become, the "perfect" version of myself, was never mine. It was him. It was it. The twisted being from the mountain. It had taken over my body, my mind. It was me, but it wasn¡¯t. I don''t know what I am anymore.


    The world sees me now, and they scream. They call me a monster. A creature they¡¯ve never seen before. A yeti, a Bigfoot. I don¡¯t even recognize my own reflection anymore. Am I cursed? Is this my punishment for wanting to fit in?


    I thought I had found peace in my transformation, but now, I¡¯m hunted. They search for me, trying to track me down. To drag me back. They think they can destroy me. But maybe I want to be found. Because, deep down, the isolation isn¡¯t as unbearable as the shame I used to feel. And if I can¡¯t fit in... perhaps it¡¯s better to be feared than mocked.


    But I wonder¡ªdid I ever escape? Or was I just replaced?


    I thought I could never go back. But when I turned around, standing in that cold, moonlit forest, there was a boy. Not the creature, not the thing I had become, but a boy¡ªthe boy who had always been there. The boy I used to be.


    No, not just me. The boy who had watched from the shadows, the one I had left behind. The creature that had haunted The twisted, half-man, half-woman thing I had seen on the mountain? It was him¡ªthe boy who I thought had been mocking me. He was the monster. But then, who was I?


    I stared into his eyes. And for the first time, I felt something¡ªan echo, a memory. It was as though I was looking at myself, but... not. The boy¡ªthe creature¡ªhad been me all along.


    And in that moment, I realized the truth: the creature never left. It wasn¡¯t a prank. It wasn¡¯t a curse. It wasn¡¯t a transformation.


    The creature was me. And I was the creature. I had always been

 The last smile

    It¡¯s been so long since I felt anything. I barely remember what it was like to be hopeful, to feel alive. Two years... Two years spent in the suffocating silence of this room, a shut-in, a failure. I had dreams once, but they were all shattered the moment I saw that red mark on my college entrance exam. I wanted to be someone, to make something of myself. I wanted to be at the top, not just in my heart, but in the world.


    But then... I failed. I failed.


    The girl I thought I would spend my life with? She was gone. The love I imagined, the future I thought was waiting for me... it evaporated in an instant. And when I looked into my parents'' eyes, I couldn¡¯t bear to meet their disappointment. Their attempts to console me¡ªpathetic. How could they, when I couldn¡¯t even console myself? I was a failure, a weight on the Earth, a burden to everyone around me.


    I spent years chasing an illusion, sacrificing everything¡ªmy health, my happiness¡ªall for a dream that wasn¡¯t even mine in the end. The world had moved on, and I was left behind. I had moved on, too... from hope, from life. I thought death might be the only escape. I couldn¡¯t see any other way out.


    But then, something strange happened.


    I saw him.


    A boy. Just a kid


    Playing outside my window with his friends, laughing, carefree. It wasn¡¯t the sound of his joy that made me pause¡ªit was something else. Something deep inside me stirred. He looked so familiar. His innocent smile, the way he ran with his friends... It reminded me of the person I used to be. The real me. The one who smiled every day, who found joy in the smallest of things.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.I watched him every day, my heart aching with longing. I wanted to be him, to feel alive again. To not care about the weight of failure that crushed me. The child reflected the life I¡¯d lost, the life I never thought I could have again. I cried¡ªtears that I hadn¡¯t let fall in years. I wanted to scream, to shout at the world for taking it all away.


    Months passed by and


    One day, something inside me broke me


    I gathered every ounce of courage I had left and stepped out of my house, my legs shaky and uncertain. I approached him, my heart pounding. And then, I saw his face.


    It was me.


    It was the old me, staring back at me from the eyes of this innocent child.


    He had been watching me this whole time. His eyes... they were full of pity, but not just that¡ªthere was disappointment, too. Not in me, but in himself. He was the reflection of who I had once been, and he was waiting for me to find my way back.


    I stood there, trembling, until the boy, the reflection of my past, spoke softly:


    ¡°We had a dream, right?? What about trying again''


    It was then


    When he handed me over the page of the first story I ever wrote


    And in that moment, something inside me stirred. Maybe there was still a chance. Maybe I wasn¡¯t as lost as I thought.


    When I tried to look towards him


    He was gone


    Was he just a hallucination??


    Or was he always there


    I don''t know, but it doesn''t matter anyway.. I have found the hope again


    Maybe I could start over while seeing the sun grazing over the flowers that had just bloomed after being shredded in the winters... I saw myself in them


    I saw tears flooding from my eyes but it was out of joy.. How long it has been since I last smiled??