Government Experiment: Soulmate

Chapter 4

(Edited: 11/27/19)

Connor POV

When I awoke on the morning of my birthday, I immediately knew something was off, but frankly, at the time I was too tired to give a shit. I crawled out of my bed, struggling to find my balance for some reason, and made my way down the attic steps and into the bathroom. 

It wasn't until I had closed the door and looked into the mirror that I realized why I had felt so different. I stared at the mirror in shock. I couldn't move, scream, or blink. I could only stare. And not so surprisingly the person in the mirror stared back with the same intensity as me.

When I regained the use of my body, I reached up to touch the smooth surface. 'This has to be a dream.' I told myself in my head. 'It has to be. I don't look like that no matter how much I wish I do.' I moved my hands to my face. A knock on the bathroom door brought me back to reality.

"Connie? You okay?" I heard my dad ask from the other side. "You have been in there for a long time." How long had I been in there? It seemed like maybe minutes, but the way Dad spoke made me feel like it had been longer.

"D-Dad I need help." I said quietly. My voice was deeper than usual, it was still a bit on the feminine side, but it was deeper. I swallowed and watched as my newly formed throat bobbed.

"Connie are you okay? You sound sick." Dad questioned. "Can you open the door?" Not knowing what to say or do, I decided to open the door.

Milo POV 

I had woken up around eight in the morning so that I could make Connie birthday waffles, and, being me, I walked to the attic stairs to see if she was still asleep. After finding her room empty, I walked back down stairs and saw the light of the bathroom was on from under the door. Deciding that I should give her a bit of time to herself, I made my way to the kitchen to start the waffle batter.

After about thirty minutes later, Connie was still in the bathroom. Call it a father's sense or whatever, but I felt as if something was wrong, so I went to check on her. I knocked on the door and called out to her.

"Connie? You okay? You have been in there for a long time." There was a pause and just when I thought I wasn't going to get an answer, she spoke up.

"D-dad I need help." She spoke softly but I could tell the difference in her voice. She sounded like she had a sore throat. Or a cold.

"Connie are you okay? You sound sick." I started to get worried. What if S.M.T was making her sick? "Can you open the door?" She was quiet for a moment, and then I heard shuffling and the doorknob turned, but the person who opened the door was not my daughter.

A young man about five foot nine was standing alone in the bathroom I had sworn my daughter's voice came from. He had the same long curly brown hair as Connie, he had the same eyes and freckles, but this was not Connie. His chest was too small and his shoulders too wide. The teen was even wearing the exact same thing Connie wore to bed last night, two tank tops and thin men's pajama bottoms.

"Dad please say something." The deep voice I had heard earlier fell from his mouth. "How is this happening?" He looked pleadingly me for an explanation.

"w-who are you?" I asked stupidly. I couldn't deny that this boy and my little girl had so much in common.

"Dad, I'm Connie." He looked at me dead in the eyes when he said this, but I still couldn't believe it.