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Un EXTRAÑO Casó De Doppelgänger - Historias De Terror - Voces De La Noche · Niebla en el bosque con Evelith von

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My name is Isabel and I am currently twenty- five years old, what
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I am about to tell you has tormented my life since I was a child.
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I' ve always felt like I have a dark double. Not so
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long ago I heard Duppelganger' s term and I think he emboldens me in
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what I have lived, although it is not something that has only been seen
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once more, she appears at the most inopportune moments to ruin my life.
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I want to share my story from the beginning, although first I want to
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say something that I don' t know if relevant, but I have a
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sister Gemela. However, and for some reason that we failed to understand she
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was never pointed out and I am also sure that it was not her,
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so then I will relate well the events in chronological order of the times in
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which I had these. I' m not so sure I call them encounters,
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because I' ve actually personally never seen her. But I' ll
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finally start from the incident in kindergarten. I clearly remember that day, a
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warm summer day, in the kindergarten, in the place where I did not
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study, there was a swimming pool, which was rarely full. We always
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saw her behind the fence to avoid accidents, but on special occasions, like
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the child' s day, they filled her for our enjoyment. We were
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my best friend at the time, whose name was Ana, my sister Gemela
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and I playing in the water with a child whose face has faded over time.
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Everything was fine until my friend had the idea of getting out of the
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pool before the others to make the first in line for pizza. We left
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the pool soaked and excited by our cunning and headed to the living room to
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wait for others. We waited about seven minutes laughing and chatting until the bell
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rang announcing that the children could get out of the pool and train to eat.
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Our plan had worked. Perfectly. We found ourselves enjoying pizza. When,
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suddenly, a tumult outside caught our attention. The teachers were running to
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the pool followed by all the children, including us, because we wanted to
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see what was happening. What we saw left us horrified. A teacher was
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desperately trying to revive a child lying on the soil soaked with pale skin.
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The boy was in a bathing suit, his body flaccid and his blue lips
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as if he had drowned in the pool. This was impossible, as the
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pool was designed for preschoolers and was not deep enough to drown. That was
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the first and, fortunately, only time I saw someone unconscious. To everyone
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' s relief, the teacher managed to restore the child' s consciousness by
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coughing water and crying they roam her. The LNR arrived quickly and took him
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away, but as they moved him on the stretcher, I noticed that the
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boy was staring at me. It was a cold, penetrating look that raised
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my skin. It was as if he was blaming me with the look,
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though in the midst of the tumult. No one noticed it in the next
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three days. I didn' t know more about the child I was letting
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it go, like kids that age do with traumatic events. However, everything
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changed when the school principal showed up in my living room one day looking for
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a girl named Montserrat. My teacher of that time told her that there was
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no girl in that room with that name, to which the principal, not
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knowing what else to do, but only a couple of minutes later she returned
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and this time she did not come alone, but with that child who had
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had the accident in the pool. The boy with an unusual determination for his
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age pointed me out, so they took me to the direction where the boy
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' s parents were and then called mine, who arrived shortly after. Once
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everyone knew that the boy claimed that I had told him that he called me
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Montserrati, who had convinced him to stay a little longer in the pool.
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After we had been called to eat, he claimed that once we were alone,
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I plunged him into the water and didn' t let him out until
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he was unconscious. My heart was pounding as I shook my head making sure
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I would never do anything like that. My father immediately backed me by saying
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that I would never do anything like that, but the child' s parents
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were convinced of his story. However, I had witnesses, my friends and
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my teacher claimed that both my sister and I were together in the living room,
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being the first in line for pizza and that we had not left there
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all along, so, although my sister had not been called to the address,
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she was also easily dismissed as or possibly guilty. The mystery remained unsolved
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and the insistent child became a case of childish confusion. Everyone thought he felt
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pressured to say it, because they never found the person responsible. Years after
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the incident in kindergarten, when I was about eight years old, another strange
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event occurred that left a mark on my mind. It was at my grandmother
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' s funeral, although I must confess that her loss did not affect me
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deeply. My grandmother had never shown much interest in having a relationship with any
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of her grandchildren. She wasn' t mean to us, but she wasn
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' t affectionate either, and for all of us her death wasn' t
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an emotional blow. I mean, not as much as it was for your
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children or the people you did bond with. On that gloomy day of the
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funeral, the whole family gathered, including cousins who didn' t even know
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they existed, despite being so many children. We quickly became friends as if
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we knew each other all our lives. We played all kinds of games for
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several hours, until we stood in front of a giant tree that was on
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the grounds of the house of the late hour Grandma, We all climbed that
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tree. I remember we were playing that each branch was a room of a
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gigantic house and each one could design it to their liking. We were in
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one of the middle branches. My sister Gemela, one of my closest cousins,
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and I were discussing how we would decorate our room. When we listened
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to some of our parents screaming how far it was time to eat, all
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the children began to come down hastily. But in the midst of the commotion,
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something terrible happened out of nowhere. One of my cousins, who came
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from another city, fell from one of the tallest branches of the tree and
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crashed into the ground. The children we were coming down we ran towards him.
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He was crying and holding his arm at a strange angle, although he
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suffered a fracture in his arm, it was surprising that, despite that obvious
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injury, he did not seem to have any other problems. I mean,
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seeing the glass half full, a fall at that height for a child his
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age could have ended in an even worse tragedy. The children surrounded him worried.
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I too approached without fully understanding what had happened. That' s when,
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in sobs, my cousin looked at me and accused me of why you
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did that. All eyes fell upon me full of silent accusations, and my
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cousin' s parents came quickly and helped him up. They asked him what
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had happened and said that I had pushed him, even though I used these
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words exactly. Cousin Montserrat pushed me around saying it would help me get down
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faster. The look of distrust of the adults was addressed to my father,
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but my sister Gemela and my closest cousin and in me intervened immediately to defend
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me, explaining that I had been with them all the time in the branch
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and that they had not seen me push anyone. The issue remained unresolved.
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The child' s parents were more concerned about taking him to the hospital than
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about arguing about who was to blame. The incident turned out to be an
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accident of a child' s play, a strange anecdote in our family that
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gradually faded away over time. But I could not forget my cousin' s
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accusing gaze or his accusation, which resonated in my mind as a disturbing echo
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throughout my childhood. These strange and disturbing incidents became more common, although less
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serious, such as children falling from swings and slips or children claiming that I
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had bitten them and even showed the bite usually done on the forearm. Although
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on one occasion a child with a biting cheekbone appeared claiming that I was responsible,
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most of the time they believed them at the time I was called to
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apologize and give explanations a number of times, although for my luck, in
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most cases I had a solid alibi and the accusations were left in mere remarks,
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without concrete evidence, not to mention that my name was not Montserrat.
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At first I didn' t give it too much importance and I thought it
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was just coincidences and that the kids were confused, maybe coupled with a little
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bit of bad luck, but it all started to change. When I was
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sophomore in high school. One day together with a group of friends, we
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decided it would be exciting to get away from school and spend the day in
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a nearby river. They all agreed and we did. At first, everything
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seemed normal, as we enjoyed the sun and the water. However, someone
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took out a bottle of tequila and we started drinking. The fun continued until
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we were all drunk enough, but not enough to think about stopping and recovering
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sobriety. Before returning home, we decided that it would be a good idea
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to go to a nearby café to have coffee and try to get our minds
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in order. We got up and started walking there. One of my friends
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suddenly said I needed to go to the bathroom urgently and that I couldn'
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t wait until I got to the cafeteria. We told her we' d
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wait for her upstairs. While she found a suitable place. While we were
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chatting waiting for our friend, we heard an angry scream from below shouting out
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what your fucking problem is. We all looked out to see what was happening
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and what we saw left us amazed. Our friend was coming at us with
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blood in her mouth and a look of fury on her face. When he
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came to us, he slapped me hard and accused me of not knowing why
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I had done that we were all confused and stunned. Our friend related what
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had happened. After she had finished urination, she said that I came out
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of nowhere and pushed her into a tree and then started kissing her. He
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told us that at one point he corresponded to the kiss, since he liked
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me for a while, but then, suddenly, I bit her on the
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lip so hard that I took blood out of her. And when she tried
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to walk away and ask what was wrong with me, I just ran away
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from her. My friends defended me by saying that I never separated from the
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group, that I was always with them, but our friend swore that I
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was the culprit and even said that the others were covering for me, but
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that it was not funny, because I hurt her seriously and although none of
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the other girls believed her, she refused to speak to me again during the
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rest of our high school stage. The next time the name Montserrat came back
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to my life was during my first year in high school. It was my
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first week in that new environment and I was trying to make new friends,
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as I hadn' t stayed in the same room with any of my high
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school friends. On a seemingly normal day. I was leaving the cafeteria with
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a girl I was starting to establish promising friendships with. But what happened next
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changed everything. A teacher I' ve never seen before stopped me in my
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way. It was strange, since she wasn' t one of my teachers
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and I didn' t recognize her from anywhere. However, it seemed that
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she knew me perfectly. He grabbed me by the shoulder and with a serious
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expression, told me that I was grounded and that I shouldn' t be
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in that place. For a moment I thought maybe I was getting confused with
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my sister Gemela, who was attending the same school, but in an indifferent
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room, as she had been since high school. I was just about to
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explain the mistake. When the teacher uttered disturbing words, she did not want
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to take responsibility for what she did. Montserrat was bewildered, but I immediately
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told her that I was not Montserrat, but Elizabeth. However, the teacher
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seemed not to believe me and upset me. He stared at me and repeated
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you. Montserrat, my new friend, stepped in to defend me and corroborate
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my identity. He told the teacher that my name was Isabel and that he
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had done nothing wrong. Despite this, the teacher left without any more visible
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annoyance, but without offering apologies or explanations. At first I tried to downplay
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the whole thing, thinking it was a strange coincidence that would not affect my
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everyday life. However, the la was completely wrong. The teacher seemed obsessed
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with me and every opportunity I had, rebuked me and accused me of all
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kinds of violations. He always called me Montserrat, even though I insisted that
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my name was Isabel. The situation got worse when I passed the third semester
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of high school and that same teacher became my teacher. From the moment I
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crossed the hall door, her look of contempt made me uncomfortable and when I
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made the attendance list, when my name, Isabel was mentioned and I answered,
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the teacher turned to me furious and told me that my name was Montserrat.
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I tried to explain that that was not true and that she could verify
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the list, but she refused to accept the reality and insisted on calling me
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Montserrat as if she were convinced that I was trying to deceive her. This
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was even more annoying, since in the living room where I was going there
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was no one with that name. However, I never managed to convince the
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teacher that my name was not Montserrat. That semester became a nightmare and the
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teacher not only harassed me constantly, but also subjected me to unfair treatment in
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her classes. All because, apparently, one Montserrat, who was identical to
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me, spent it causing disasters and disrespecting her when it wasn' t school
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hours. Many years passed since high school before I heard the name Montserrat again.
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During that time I moved constantly, not because of the subject of Montserrat,
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but because of my own choice of wanting to know more places and experiences.
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During those years there was no indication of Monserrate anywhere, and I began
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to think that perhaps everything had been a series of strange coincidences. In my
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childhood, at the age of twenty- one, I got a job as
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a general assistant at a veterinarian about fifty thousand minutes from my hometown. The
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work environment was somewhat peculiar, as all my colleagues were devoted members of the
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community of Jehovah’ s Witnesses, making them extremely religious. Although I liked
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my classmates, I never mentioned the peculiar parts of my life, such as
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the incidents of high school and high school. At one point I had to
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return to my hometown because of family matters. It was a sudden trip,
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so I only sent a message to my boss to inform them that I would
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be missing during the weekend. However, when I was arriving in my hometown,
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I received a message from my boss telling me that I could not take
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those days off, although I was not interested and only ignored it When I
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returned on Monday, something seemed out of place, because when I entered the
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vet, nobody caught my attention or asked me why I had missed. I
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thought that maybe they had reconsidered, that it was a family emergency and that
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they simply couldn' t rebuke me for something like that, since they also
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had family and knew that those things were happening. So I just went into
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the employee area to leave my backpack, but right away. My boss approached
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me with a serious look and told me that he believed it was obvious that
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he was not working anymore. There I was puzzled and explained that I could
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not say goodbye for missing two days due to a family problem. However,
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he stared at me and said that I well knew it wasn' t.
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That' s why I asked him what he meant, but he didn'
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t tell me much, because he thought I was kidding him, although among
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his screams I could deduce more or less what had happened. Apparently, someone
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who looked like me had come to work and committed an inexplicably cruel act.
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He emptied a whole bottle of caustic soda into the biggest fish tank in the
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vet and then turned off all the oxygenation pumps from all the fish tanks before
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leaving, causing almost all the fish to die. I ran out of words.
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I couldn' t understand who or why someone would do such an atrocious
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thing. The worst thing was that, although it seemed like that person looked
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like me, I was completely alien to what had happened. I didn'
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t know how to explain to my boss that it wasn' t me,
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that I didn' t know what had happened, so I just left there
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before ending a complaint. I currently have my own business and it' s
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not bad for me. I haven' t heard from Montserrati again, although
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I really hope you never hear from her again something within me knows that that
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won' t be the last anonymous story.