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I screamed, nearly falling over from the shock. The pain shot through me like a lightning bolt, causing me to bite my lip. My knees buckled beneath me, but Harris grabbed me and held me upright.
"See how easy that was?" he said, smiling wickedly. He traced the edge of the wound with his finger, relishing the damage he'd inflicted. "We've only started. Now it's time for phase two."
Despite the searing pain, I managed to spit on him. "Go to hell," I snarled.
Harris smirked, wiping the spit from his face. "Oh, I'm sure I will," he said softly. "But first, I'm taking a trip down memory lane."
With that, he released me from his grasp and stepped aside, revealing a full-length mirror. I gasped, seeing my reflection. My skin was pale and clammy, covered in goosebumps. My eyes were wide in terror, and my body was covered in blood.
"Do you recognize yourself?" Harris asked, walking closer to me. "You know, you look so much like Rebecca."
I winced, desperately trying to hold the towel to the bleeding gash. "Yeah, everyone says that," I choked.
"It's true, you look very similar, but it could be better," Harris said. He brought out some clothes neatly folded in a pile.
I recognized them instantly. They were my sister's clothes, pulled out from her closet.
"How... how did you get those?" I asked.
"I've had plenty of time to plan," Harris said. "And besides, it's not like the zombie that is now your mother notices what's going on when you're gone."
I felt like I was going to be sick again. Had Harris been in my house? Had he been there when I was asleep? Had he touched my things? Stolen bits and pieces from Rebecca's room?
"You're sick," I spat. "You're fucking crazy!"
Harris only chuckled. He held my body as he dressed me like I was his very own life-size doll. The knife was always nearby, threatening me if I didn't comply.
Once I was dressed, he stepped back to examine his work. My sister's blue sweater was now stained with blood from the gash on my stomach. Thankfully, the bleeding had finally stopped.
"You're almost ready," he said, reaching out to feel my long hair. "Except her hair was shorter."
"Please," I whispered through trembling lips. "Please, Harris, don't do this. We can stop now. We can pretend this never happened. Just let me go."
Harris shook his head, dragging me back to the bedroom and forcing me down onto a wooden chair. "There's no going back," he said. "You're going to be mine." I held up a pair of hair scissors, slowly trimming my long hair to my shoulders.
"Don't you want your sister back, Julia?" He hummed as he worked. "Wouldn't you give anything to have her alive?"
Hot tears sprung up from my eyes. "Of course," I gasped. "Of course, I would."
"Then we'll do it together," Harris said. "You'll be my new Rebecca, and I'll finally be happy again."
My damp hair fell in clumps around us.
"Well, there," Harris cooed, stroking my newly cropped hair. "That's better. Now, let's start the real fun."
"Fun?" I spat, the bitterness dripping from my tongue. He chuckled, his eyes alight with perverse delight.
"You've met my requirements," he said, tracing the bloody outline of my wound once more. "And now, we're ready to play our game."
"You need to stop this, Harris," I pleaded. "Doing this won't bring her back. I know how it feels to lose someone, and I miss her every day. I know you loved her as much as I did. But you can't do this."
I had to try to reason with him in order to buy time. I had to find a way to escape.
Harris snarled at me and pulled a flask from his back pocket, taking a swig of what smelled to be vodka. "You have no idea how much I miss her. How much it hurts me," he said. "You know, I wish I killed that guy who was in the other car."
"It was a freak accident," I said. Both the drunk driver and my sister had been killed on impact. Neither of them could have been saved.
"He was drunk. He killed her. He killed Rebecca. My true love," Harris sobbed, taking another swig. "He robbed me of my life, and then he had the audacity to die and rob me of justice."
