I am by birth a Bostonian, but my family moved here when my twin and I were four. Even though I've spent more time here then I did in Boston, I still miss that city on a hill. But I love it here in Seaport, because, after all, it was here where I met Dex, my love, and grew up to become the woman I am today. Boston was where I got my legs, but Seaport is where I truly blossomed. I met all the schoolmates that would become my adult friends, and enjoyed all the activities that would define my future. There was always plenty of unsurety and tension, sure, but I eventually decided to become a cook, Dex became a writer, and my twin, George, he - he did his own thing. By the time I was 25, I felt like everything was going my way. That may sound like a terrible way to approach life, but I had been fine for the better part of my life, and I took it for granted more often than I should have. Dex and I lived in a little apartment, making ends meet, as in love with each other as we always were. I had a respectable job at a nearby restaurant, George was making his own steady income, and even my mom seemed relaxed.
If I were to pinpoint the moment where my life shifted, it had to be a few days after my 25th birthday. My family and friends spent the weekend partying and celebrating this milestone. Monday came around, and it was back to work at the restaurant. As usual, I got up early, whipped up some eggs, kissed Dex as he was about to start writing, and began my journey to work. But once I had gotten to the restaurant and entered through the back door, I heard a conversation going on across the kitchen.
"According to our sources, Ms. Nora Nodd should be here." A rather authoritarian voice shouted. I began walking towards them, and was about to open my mouth, until I heard my boss respond in his usual soft, yet-demanding voice.
"Nora would never have done that. I've known her for a couple years, that's highly uncharacteristic of her." I stepped back a bit, frozen in fear. What were they going on about?
"The woman at the bank repeatedly asserted her name as Nora Nodd, and sources claim the woman there looked exactly like a Nora Nodd that worked here. If you don't mind, we will just go in the kitchen and look for-"
"No." My boss shouted. "You have no right to search the kitchen. She's not here, and if she didn't do any damage, then you cannot look back there. Now, please leave, you'll scare the customers." The other person proceeded to leave the restaurant. I waited until the door closed before I made my presence more obvious.
"Nora, what are you doing here?" He asked me.
"I was going to work, but… what's going on?" For half a second, I thought my boss was joking, but that was definitely not the case."
"I'm not sure you should be here, given the circumstances." He had answered.
"Circumstances? I have no idea what's going on!" Now I was confused.
"You really don't know?" He asked. After shaking my head, he answered, "that policewoman over there? She said that you robbed a bank, then hid here. You're- you're not playing dumb either, are you." I shook my head even more. "Look, I don't think you should be here right now. The problem is, the police are still going to be out there, so it's best for you to lay low and hide in the fridge until they're gone for sure. Got it?" I answered with a simple "yes" and hid in the refrigerator for about a couple hours. I spent the time trying to collect my bearings, and recall what was going on. I may not remember some things I did, nor am I exactly an absolute angel, but I cannot remember ever robbing a bank. Yet, the police said that the person looked like me. I figured, maybe there was some girl that also had my name and resembled me, and this was all just some wild misunderstanding.
"Nora?" the boss's voice rang as the fridge opened. "The coast seems clear. I'm going to smuggle you out of here."
After a rather uncomfortable trek, I made it back to my apartment. I tried to lay low until I got inside, then I ran all the way up the stairs, worried that the police were camping. Maybe I was going to get ambushed. Perhaps it would be better if I just ran out, made my way to Boston, change my name, and started from the bottom as a dishwasher in some old diner. As absurd as it sounded, I was worried for my life.
When I entered, I locked the door frantically before noticing Dex on the couch, with a concerned look on his face. "Nora! What happened? The cops… they asked where you were. I denied everything, but... did you really do it?"
"Of course not! You believe me, right?" I asked, running over to hug him tightly. He nodded, and looked concerned. "I just… I'm so confused about what is going on. I feel like a criminal."
"You aren't, honey." He looked at me, eyes welling up. "Whatever is going on, I will do everything I can to-"
Someone rang the doorbell.
Oh, no, it was the police, and they were out to find me. Dex motioned me to hide under his desk, so I snuck under it while he went to get the door. I told him that, if they asked for me, I was on the run, and could not be tracked.
When the door opened, I heard a voice that sounded familiar. It was not the policewoman's voice, nor was it anyone that I thought I knew. But it sounded familiar somehow.
"Hey! Don't you remember me?" The girl at the door said.
"Um, I- I can't- oh no." My boyfriend said in a very suspicious voice.
The voice laughed, continuing to sound eerily similar. "Of course you do, Dex. Don't I look familiar? Almost like your girlfriend." I tried hard not to gasp, but I was shocked. What was Dex doing? "But don't worry," She continued. "I know everything about you. And I know everything about your girl too." Who was this woman and what did she know? Was sh-
"Nora, I know you're hiding under the desk. You don't need to hide, I'm not with the authorities." When I peeked above the desk, I thought there was a mirror at the door. But when I got closer, I saw a woman who looked almost just like me. Her long, brown hair was wavier than mine, but she had the same brown eyes, the same face, even the same chef clothes (With the exception of a beautiful orange bracelet on one of her arms). She practically was me.
"I don't think we've met yet. My name is Nora, and I'm your clone."