梦/Dream

在许多夜晚，我的梦里都存在两个我。聚会上，当别人喊我的名字，我抬头，总会看到另一个我同时抬头，代替我做出回应，我则坐在角落默不吭声，没人对此感到意外。

两个我，睁开眼就能看见另一个，万花筒一般的梦让我感到头晕和疲惫。梦里永远有一群人在聚会，我在角落喝着苦酒忍受身份折磨。在某个梦里，我在角落碰见了另一个倒霉鬼，他的处境和我一样。我问他，杀死替身有用吗？他说他试过，私下杀死的人会立刻重新长出来，他已经侵占了你的本体。除非在公开场合，让所有人看到你杀死了他，才能真正让他永不复生。说着，他望向自己的复制品。

房间满是欢声笑语的人。在昏暗的角落，他在桌底给我比手势，他想进行一场无差别的屠杀，把荒唐的记忆从所有人的梦中抹掉，我心领神会。很快，一个契机让灯灭了。漆黑中，我听到了杀戮和血。

灯亮了，死的是他。原来复制体之间共享思维。

我迅速打开窗户跳下去，逃走了。一路上我拼命跑，到了一片沼泽地。月光下，我回头看见了另一个我，我看不清他的脸，他应该也是。

我想起过往犯下的种种罪孽，有多少是他植入的潜意识？我恨他，真的。

“先别指责我，那次你不也玩得很开心吗？” 脑海里他说。
“闭嘴。” 我气急败坏。
“对了，那个让她气疯的电话，你应该不知道她正在开车吧？”
“是你让我打的。” 我蹲下来，狠狠地把地面砸出一个坑，土很软。

我不再理睬他，转身往沼泽方向，在泥浆中深一脚浅一脚地艰难移动。他也跟了过来，我们一前一后前往沼泽深处。不知过了多久，我听到了警车声，过了一会儿，一个声音向我们喊话：

“你们是孪生兄弟还是幽灵人？”

我俩都没有做声。

“按照第三十三条法令，一旦发现幽灵人，我们需要立刻射杀，包括和他们接触的所有人，防止更多人的记忆开始松动和生锈，你们到底是不是幽灵人？”

“不是” 我们两个异口同声。

我想让他活着，在剩下的生命里一遍遍悔恨。我感到他也笑了一下，没错，我们都一样恶毒。

---

Night after night, my dreams are haunted by two versions of me. At parties, when someone calls my name, I look up and always see the other me lifting his head too. He answers for me while I sit silently in the corner. Nobody thinks this is weird.

Two of me, always seeing the other when I open my eyes. These kaleidoscope dreams leave me dizzy and drained. There’s always a party going on, and I’m in the corner, drinking bitter booze and wrestling with who I am. In one dream, I bump into another poor soul in the corner, stuck in the same boat as me. I ask him if killing your double does any good. He says he’s tried - the one you kill in private just grows back instantly. He’s taken over your real self. Unless you do it in public, let everyone see you kill him, that’s the only way to make sure he never comes back. As he talks, he looks over at his own copy.

The room’s full of laughing, chatting people. In a dark corner, he signals to me under the table. He wants to go on a killing spree, wipe this crazy memory from everyone’s dreams. I get the idea. Soon, the lights go out. In the darkness, I hear killing and blood.

The lights come on. He’s the one who’s dead. Turns out copies share thoughts.

I quickly open a window and jump out, running away. I run like hell until I reach a swamp. In the moonlight, I look back and see the other me. I can’t make out his face, and he probably can’t see mine either.

I think about all the bad stuff I’ve done in the past. How much of it was him planting ideas in my head? I hate him, I really do.

“Don’t blame me, you had fun that time too, didn’t you?” he says in my mind.
“Shut up,” I snap.
“Oh, and that call that pissed her off so much? You didn’t know she was driving, right?”
“You made me do it.” I crouch down and punch the ground hard, making a hole. The soil’s soft.

I ignore him and turn towards the swamp, slogging through the mud. He follows me, and we trudge one after the other into the deep swamp. After who knows how long, I hear police sirens. A while later, a voice shouts at us:

“Are you twin brothers or ghost people?”

We both keep quiet.

“According to Law 33, if we find ghost people, we have to shoot them dead right away. Same goes for anyone who’s been in contact with them. It’s to stop more people’s memories from getting messed up and rusty. So are you ghost people or not?”

“We’re not,” we both say at the same time.

I want him to live, to spend the rest of his life regretting over and over. I feel him smirk too. Yep, we’re both just as nasty.