I was sitting on the floor of the room, with a blood covered knife in my hand. The body laid at a little distance from me, near the window. There was a loud banging on the door.
"Open the door or we will use force!", the police shouted. I cannot do it. It is my fault.
The police shouted, "You are arrested for the murder of –"

2 Days Ago

It has been a week since I had any proper food. Today is Friday. Instant noodles and pringles have provided quite good meals. I have stopped stepping out of the apartment altogether, I really need to get some fresh air. My greasy black hair has not been washed in days and there are dark circles under my eyes. Rent will be due in a few weeks but I have not even paid last month's yet.
Two months back, I was the assistant editor of the politics column of Glam Time magazine, the second most popular magazine of London and now I am unemployed and pretty soon may even be homeless. I had to leave that job, they wanted me to lie to the public, they would not let me talk about real political issues or who was causing them. I did not become a writer to be a corporate puppet. So I left, the first couple of weeks I tried freelancing but was not able to do much. The last two weeks feel like I have given up on writing. It has been ages since I have been on dating apps or went on dates. I have even lost contact with my friends at my old job. Could life get any worse?

The phone started to ring, it was an unknown number. I picked it up and say–
"Hello, who is this?"

"Hi, this is Jessica's number right?"

"Yes, I am Jessica."

"Jes, it's Dylan from Bloomsdale."

"OMG! Dylan, how are you?"

"Good. Jes, you remember your parents' house in Bloomsdale? An old lady is interested in buying it. She did not know how to contact you so she asked me."

"Oh, sure. Give me her number."

"She did not share it. She wanted to meet you. Why don't you come here tomorrow? She will meet you on Sunday."

I thought for a while before replying.
"Sure, see you tomorrow. Thanks Dylan."

Hanging up the call I wondered how someone is interested in that house. Bloomsdale is my hometown. It's a simple town, very few buildings, just two restaurants in the entire town and just one good school. I always knew that I wanted to come to London, living in Bloomsdale would be a dead end for a writer. The house belonged to my parents. After they died in a car accident two years ago, I became the owner. I tried selling it, but it was an old house passed down to us by my grandmother, it was a little shabby too, so I did not find any interested buyers. After a few months, I just moved out the good furniture and other accessories to my apartment and let the house be.
Dylan was my next door neighbour and my best friend. We were so close that half of the town thought we were dating. But we were not, we loved each other but it was nothing romantic. The hardest part of leaving Bloomsdale was leaving my best friend. Dylan stayed there and wanted to start an automobile business. Eventually we lost touch.

It would be nice to sell the house and get my hands on a little money. But that was not the only reason I agreed to visit Bloomsdale. I really wanted to rekindle my friendship with Dylan. I washed my hair, packed my bag pack and the morning of Saturday set off for Bloomsdale. It was a four hour drive from London, in the countryside.

I arrived in the afternoon. Just as I checked out our old house and was out in the lawn, I saw Dylan on his lawn. I called him out and he came over to greet me. We hugged and I felt so nostalgic.
"It is so great to see you.", he said and I agreed.

He asked, "Are you staying here?"

"No, there is no bed. I took one of the beds to my apartment and sold the other one. I have actually booked a nearby motel."

"Ricky's In?"

"Yes, that is the one."

"I would advise you not to stay there. It is the only motel nearby and it is 30 minutes away. It is also quite unsafe, often there are burglaries. Why don't you stay in my house, I have a guest room."

"Oh! I cannot bother you like that."

"It's no problem, c'mon, old times' sake "

I agreed. Dylan's guest room sounded better than some creepy motel. Dylan informed me that the old lady was coming to see the inside of the house the next morning so I had some time to kill in the evening.

I asked, "I heard many families are moving to the city. Why is this lady interested in this old house?"

"Her husband died a few months ago. I did not ask how it happened as it might be a sensitive subject. The lady just wants to live in a quiet place in a small town."

I had nothing to say, it sounded sad. Dylan invited me into his house and I went in. Seeing the house filled my mind with memories. The rustic living room with the open kitchen. Dylan and I spent so much time here growing up, hiding in the basement during hide and seek, playing video games in the living room and so many things. Dylan looked at me, I knew he was thinking the same thing.
I tell him, "I am really glad you contacted me, not just because the house may get sold but also because I really missed you. You were my best friend."

"I miss you too, Jes. All the time we spent together. Selling the house is not a lot of money, but it is something. Earning some cash would be good, not like you need it, the editor of Glam Time magazine and everything."

He seemed proud of me. I did not reveal the reality of my job. I was about to ask, "So, are you–"
Suddenly there was the sound of the front door opening. I looked towards it.
A young girl, around our age with black hair and a round face walked in with a small basket of some flowers in her hand. Dylan gave her a hug and she gave him a peck on the cheek. She looked at me, her face glimmering with a smile. She kept the basket on the table and asked me while shaking my hand, "Jessica, right?"
I nodded.
Dylan said to me, "This is Rachel. My girlfriend."
"Oh! Nice to meet you." I was a little taken aback, I hadn't realised that Dylan had a girlfriend.
Rachel had a little mud around her ankles, she said, "I was watering and grooming the plants in the back lawn, I will go freshen up. The guest room is upstairs, I will get it ready for you Jessica."
I just nodded. She went upstairs and Dylan went to help her. He had such a beautiful girlfriend, her black hair and round face looked a little like mine but she did not have dark circles around her pretty eyes and she had beautiful curves. I have been looking like a thin pale stick lately. I should not be petty, I am happy for him.

In the evening, we were all having some wine. One bottle just finished. Rachel went to get another from the cooler in the kitchen. I learnt a few things about Rachel. She was an orphan, her single mother had died when she was a child. She first met Dylan at a park in another town. A few days later, she had moved to Bloomsdale and they bumped into each other again and decided to start dating. She was living in a small rented room, so Dylan asked her to move in. I couldn't deny it, it was a nice small town romance.
Rachel brought the second bottle of wine. The cork was open, Rachel poured the wine into our three glasses, picked up her glass and said, "I think I will call it a night. I'll enjoy this glass by the bed. You two friends catch up." Saying this, she takes her glass of wine and goes to the bedroom.

Dylan and I talk about our childhood memories. When I ask Dylan about his job he says, "I do not wish to lie to you Jes. My business failed. I am in some debt as well. I work as a waiter in the local cafe for now but I make very little."

I was shocked and asked, "What about Rachel? Does she make any money?"

"Jes, Rachel dropped out before completing school. She had no one to guide her. She is not very trained. She tried to write sometimes, but never got published. Now, she stays at home, takes care of the garden, cooks food sometimes, that's it."

"I am so sorry Dylan, I had no idea. I have not been completely honest with you. I lost my job two months back. I have tried to do some freelance work but was not successful. I was thinking, what if we divide what I earn after selling the house between us. It will be helpful to both."

"No way. It is your house. But, I am really sorry about your job."

I insisted but Dylan did not accept the money. After being completely honest with each other, it felt so peaceful. It felt like our friendship had rekindled. We finished our wine and went off to bed.

Sunday morning, I woke up to see the sun shining brightly outside the window. I checked the time, it was after 12 in the afternoon. The old lady was supposed to come to see the house at 10. I rushed downstairs and spotted Rachel in the open kitchen drinking coffee.
She said upon seeing me, "Jessica, you are finally awake. The lady was here. You were supposed to show them the house."

"I know, I must have slept through my alarm."

"Well, they were here so I showed them the house  You had left the keys on the kitchen counter."

"Oh, did I?"

"Yes, she likes the house. Here is the contract they gave. Read it and if the terms are fine with you, sign it. She will collect it tomorrow."

I take the contract and say, "I think I should talk to them face to face."

"They did not give their phone number or say where they live."

I just take the contract and go to my room. My backpack was there but my purse was not. I remembered keeping it beside my bag. I found it inside the bag. I took a quick look and all the money seemed to be there. I had also kept beside the bag, the receipts from the petrol pump and a small convenience store I visited while travelling the day before. They were not there, I must have thrown them out. I was really drunk the night before.

The rest of the day went on normally. Rachel was home the whole day. I had not carried enough clothes so had to borrow a dress from Rachel. I did not really like her pale dresses but it was fine. She told me that Dylan had also overslept, so he rushed to work as soon as he got up. He would return by 5 pm as he had evenings off on Sundays. Rachel said she would cook something nice in the evening. I read the contract and signed it, the terms were quite basic and acceptable.

Around 5 pm, I brought down the contract to give it to Rachel. Dylan was home and watching TV. I said 'Hi' to him. I saw Rachel wearing rubber gloves and a broom in her hand, cleaning the house thoroughly. I tried to give her the contract.
She said, "Put it on the table. I try to clean the entire house on Sundays. I have made some herbal tea for you, it is my favourite. It is on the table."
I put the contract on the table, take the cup of tea and sit on the sofa beside Dylan. I noticed it earlier as well, he does not talk to me much with Rachel around. We still talk a little about his work, he says that he got some vanilla cake for us from the cafe. I checked my phone, there were no texts. Just as I was about to drink the tea, I smell mint in it. I hate the smell and taste of mint, it is nauseating to me. I could not say anything to Rachel, she said it is her favourite. I keep my phone on the couch and tell them that I need something in my room and come upstairs with the cup. I throw it down the sink in the bathroom of the guest room. After around 5 minutes, I carried the empty cup downstairs to tell how tasty it was.

As soon as I entered the living room, Dylan laid there soulless. There were gashes of knife on his chest and Rachel was pounding the last gash with all her strength. She still had the rubber gloves on. There was blood on the floor pouring out of the body. All that came out of my mouth was a whisper saying, "Rachel."
She turned around, her eyes were red with aggression. She said, "You're awake? You did not drink the tea."
I realised she had mixed something in the tea and in the wine, which made me sleep for longer. Not knowing what to say, I asked, "Why did you kill him?"

She said, "You do not know what it is like. He did not love. He just kept me because he knew that I had nowhere to go. He had nothing for me, no money, no love. It was like I was his maid. Imagine being the girlfriend of a guy who is still in love with his childhood best friend."

I was shocked, Dylan was in love with me.

She continued, "He would not let me live, he would not let me work. I was his doll, staying at home, cooking and gardening. The farthest I was allowed to go was the back lawn. I could not leave because he warned me that he would find me and kill me if I left. I have no one in the world to protect me or call the police if I die. No one even knows he has a girlfriend. He never introduced me to anyone. He likes it that people think you two are in a long distance relationship. When you were teenagers, everyone thought that you two were dating because he told everyone that you were, he loved you. And when he got drunk, he would just throw things at me, hurt me, beat me. I could not live with it."

I finally found the words, "You should have said something to me, to anybody. But you...you killed him."

She said, "No, YOU killed him, RACHEL. From now on, YOU are RACHEL and I am JESSICA."

I was confused. In the living room we both stood, wearing similar looking pale dresses, with similar black straight hair and round face. Our skintones were both pale and I finally realised how similar we look. I had not realised it till now but now I saw my phone in her pocket. She is the one who threw away the receipts. I realised it now, she took out my purse, the money was not missing but something was, my Driver's License. She had taken it. She even took the contract with my signature so that she could practice forging it. She had stolen my identity. I had nothing to prove that I am not Rachel and she had everything to prove that she is Jessica.

She continued, "I know you have lost your job. I have been planning this for months. I just needed an excuse to tell Dylan to call you here. And finally I found Mrs Ruby. She has Alzheimer's. I have known for a long time now, since before I met Dylan. I explained to her that she wanted to buy a house and made the contract. I brought her to meet Dylan and she acted just as I asked, saying she wanted to buy the house. So, Dylan called you. And the best part is, she will not remember any of this. If you manage to track her down and the police question her, she will not remember anything, except that she knows RACHEL. And guess what, she will think YOU with your black hair and round face are Rachel. I will be free, I will have your identity, I can leave London and do whatever I want."

As she keeps talking, I suddenly try to snatch the knife away from her but she is stronger. She ducks down then quickly takes the flower vase and hits me in the head with it. The last thing I remember before fainting is seeing Rachel go towards the kitchen.

After a while I gain consciousness and get up. I see that the knife with Dylan's blood is in my hand, Rachel must have put it that way. Dylan's body laid near the window. I try to look for my stuff. None of it was there, not my bag, not my purse, not my clothes, nothing. She would reach my apartment before I ever could, she would take all my Id proofs and run away somewhere, where she can live with my identity. I checked the front door, it was locked from inside. Rachel must have escaped from the door in the kitchen that opens in the back lawn. That door can be opened and locked only from the inside. We used this door when we played around the house as kids. I tried to push it open but there were a few bricks outside blocking it. It could not be opened. She escaped from here and then put the bricks. She must have taken my car too. She made sure that I could not escape the house.

The police suddenly arrived and started aggressively knocking on the door asking to open it. I cannot open it even if I want to. I heard the police saying that they got an anonymous tip about the murder. I sat on the floor with the knife in my hand, in my pale dress.
The police shouted, "Open the door, Miss Rachel. You are arrested for the murder of Mr Dylan."

I just remained still not knowing what to do or say. I heard the police breaking down the door and entering.