It was early in the morning, when he woke me up. I don't remember who he was or where he came from, but I can tell he's a nice person. He looked at me with sad, but caring eyes.
His eyes weren't normal. It was like the eyes of the ghosts that I often read from mystery and horror novels. His hair and facial features, on the other hand, were almost exactly the same as mine, as if we were twins.
"Morning, you pansy."
From his lips came out a harsh voice that somehow stroke a needle within my heart, but surprisingly, the pain had subsided very quickly and was replaced by a gentle feeling.
Could it be that he's wearing different clothes to identify and distinguish himself as a separate entity from me? Who is he? What should I call him? I don't know, but I nodded.