A trip to the past

The real voyage of discovery consists not of seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.

-Marcel Prous

**THIS JOURNAL IS A PRIVATE PROPERTY OF DR. M. ZEPHANIE**

1 February 2000

I, Marcus Owen Zephanie, have decided to begin this preposterous thing they call a journal. At first, the very idea of putting my life experiences into words and recorded them in a stack of papers bound by a coiled spring had seemed ridiculous. Yet, here I was, and frankly speaking, I am finding it oddly satisfying.

Therefore, to whoever may benefit from this, I thereby impart a few of somewhat significant details regarding my life.

I was born in the state of Vermont to Shirley Owen and Wayne Zephanie. I have one other sibling by the name of Richard, with me being the younger. Our family has close ties with each other. We would be, as what everyone would call it, a picture-perfect type. Though, I'd rather argue that it sounded insulting to call anything ''picture-perfect.''

It somehow makes me cringe as the name insinuates a front, having everything else behind it become a sham as if nothing was ever real.

My family was, is, real. We never played a front.

As a child, I found myself engrossed in things that most humans would prefer not to be involved with. At that very instant, I knew that my path was predestined.

I took the arduous journey to become a research biologist. Though it had seemed long, I never had any regrets up to this date.

My only regret was letting myself get involved with a woman.

Her name was Charlotte, Charlotte Davis. I met her at the hospital, where she began her residency as a heart surgeon while I was only visiting to join my family in welcoming my older brother's newborn.

One could say that it was fate when our paths had somehow crossed. I used to think that it was, for whatever unexplainable reason, fate indeed.

Later on, I found out that Charlotte was in the same university I was at. She was very charming and smart. She was also very famous amongst her colleagues and, by some means, in mine.

She has a lot of suitors. I was hesitant to take my chances.

Nevertheless, I decided to take a risk.

On Valentine's day, I finally had the guts to ask her out.

It was the happiest moment I ever had when she agreed to have a dinner date with me.

We enjoyed a wonderful evening talking about random things. We connected instantly.

I began to think that Charlotte was the woman I could live with forever.

But I thought wrong.

Our differences began to come between us after one week of being together.

We broke up eventually even though I had wanted to work things out without having to end it.

I respected her decision.

The fallout was devastating.

Tragic.

Remorseful.

For once in my life, I had wanted to die.

Yet, ending my very existence for something so ludicrous such as having my heart broken over a woman cut through my filthy and pitiful state.

After a week of fighting with the urge to drown myself in an alcoholic stupor to wash away the pain and the harrowing sorrow, I finally realized that I needed to focus on something else.

In my darkest days, I perceived that something had to happen.

I decided to recreate myself.

If you think that this was all metaphorical, I'd like to encourage you to think again. After all, with all the wonderful creations ever made, nothing seemed impossible for a man to achieve, especially when he realized his unlimited capabilities.

--

RAFAEL

I must have gone crazy.

But can anybody blame me?

This whole ''clone'' thing was doing massive damage to my brain cells.

That or maybe the fact that the woman I had started to like, turned out to be a result of one of those crazy science experiments.

I know this whole if-you-really-like-her-it-wouldn't-matter crap should be my perfect reaction upon finally pulling out a piece of her secrets that I had badly wanted to know.

In addition, I don't even have the slightest idea what or how to call her anymore.

Every time I think of Shay Zephanie, a brief flashback of the woman wearing the cute pajamas would appear in my line of vision. However, it would quickly be replaced by the other version of her.

If this wouldn't make anyone crazy, then I must be really close to losing it.

I let the cold water from the shower help me ease all of these troubling thoughts.

And to add to the pile of the things that I had to think about, there was the issue of who is X.

When Shay Zephanie, the cloned one, had confessed about her real identity, there was this nagging at the back of my head, a question actually.

If she was the clone and had been acting on Shay Zephanie's behalf since the apocalypse or even before, where was the real one been hiding all along?

The woman who was staying with me, what has she been doing all those years?

And why, after all those years, why did she suddenly decide to come out now?

What was the reason for her needing to be replaced by a clone anyway?

And why did Marcus Zephanie choose to make her a clone? What was their relationship?

Does this mean they knew each other before the apocalypse?

Was this Marcus Zephanie's doing?

Is he scheming some evil plan? And if he was, why and what is it?

Lastly, how did this Shay Zephanie know everything if the swap was done when we were at the medical building?

I don't think she would have had the time to ask her clone to spill every single detail about what has happened while she was, I have no idea where; doing, I also have no idea what.

It seemed like a far fetch theory, but could she be? Could she be X, the most meticulous and ruthless killer that I have been chasing after?

Dang, I need answers, and though there was only a ten percent probability that the person I'm thinking of would give me the answers I need, I really have no other choice but to put all bets on it.

And if I want her to spill her other secrets, I have to play my cards right.