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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Saturdead on 2024-12-27 21:26:51+00:00.

My family has a bit of a rocky history. My grandmother had some troubling religious beliefs, which drove a wedge between her and my mother. We couldn’t celebrate any major holidays together, so the only time I would see my grandmother would be on my birthday. However, as she was too sick to travel, we’d have to go see her instead. So every birthday, we went up to see my grandmother in Chatter Blinds. It was a three-hour trip from our home in Worcester up to Brunswick, then a bit further east.

My grandmother lived in a small red house with white lining overlooking the coastline. It was a beautiful place. There was this salty smell in the air, and a mild but constant breeze. My grandmother was a frail woman who could barely get around, but she’d be dead in the ground before she’d let her house fall into disarray. It was always impeccable.

Celebrations at her place were never really a big deal. My grandmother hated the idea of birthday gifts, so instead we’d have a large meal and read aloud from one of her books. She’d also play the piano. Despite her faults, she was an amazing piano player – it was easily the highlight of the trip. That, and the birthday gifts I’d get to open on the way back home. It was my reward for not making a fuzz.

I remember this one time when I was 8 years old. My mother and grandmother were making dinner, and my father had gone into town to get groceries, leaving me to explore the area on my own. I made my way down to the water, following the bottom of the cliffs. There was a small section where it looked like two different cliffs intersected, leaving a small opening about four feet up. It took a bit of fidgeting, but I managed to get a closer look. There was a cave in there. I was just a stupid kid, but I was way too curious not to check it out. I climbed inside.

I walked through a tunnel. It was lined with these curious blue flowers. I brought one along to show my mom. The tunnel lead into a large, almost spherical, cave. There were three cracks in the wall where water poured out into a pool in the middle. It was shallow; no more than a foot deep. A single ray of light reflected off the pool, giving the walls an unreal shimmer. But looking up, I noticed something even stranger.

There was water in the ceiling. I didn’t understand how that could be possible. It was like the surface of a lake, but in the ceiling. It didn’t make any sense. It was crystal clear; allowing me to see my own reflection up there.

I stood there for a couple of minutes, just looking at my reflection. I waved, it waved. I jumped, it jumped. I couldn’t understand it. Finally, as I stood there, I took a whiff of the strange blue flower I’d found. It didn’t really smell like anything, but one of the petals tickled my nose. I sneezed.

“Bless you,” a voice said.

I looked up again, only to notice that my reflection wasn’t holding a flower.

“Thanks,” I said.

The reflection didn’t move. Only now did it occur to me that it wasn’t actually a reflection; it was a whole separate person. And he looked exactly like me.

“Is it your birthday too?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he responded. “I’m at my grandma’s place.”

“Me too,” I said. “We’re having some kind of sheep stew tonight.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah.”

I had a long talk with the other me. We were very similar, but there were a couple of small differences. For example, his dad had a different name. They lived in a different town. And of course, there were no little blue flowers in the tunnel leading to the cave.

As the ray of light started to fade, I realized I’d been out for way too long. They were probably looking for me. But before I left, we decided on an experiment. I climbed up the side of the wall, and the other me did the same. I handed them the blue flower, and it crossed from this place to theirs. He got a hold of it, promising me he’d cherish it.

Before I raced back to grandma’s place, I looked back a final time.

“Happy birthday, other me!” I called out.

“Happy birthday, other other me!” he called back.

Every birthday that followed, I’d go back to see other me again. We’d talk about the year we’d had and the gifts we were hoping to get. This is where he and I were the most different. We were doing well, so I could comfortably hope for good things to come. But things had just gotten worse and worse for other me the past few years. While I’d wish for things like Halo 4, he’d wish for his dad to get a new job. When I wished for a cool airsoft rifle, he wished they could afford a car. And when I was 13, I wished for a TV in my room – he asked for the rain to stop burning his skin.

When I was 14, the illusion of the reflection above was broken. Other me was dressed in black, telling me he was there for his mom and grandmother’s funeral. He didn’t stay long, but he wanted to see me before he left. After just a couple of minutes I was alone, staring at the shimmering ceiling.

That year was the first and only time my grandmother gave me a birthday gift – a silver cross to wear as a necklace. I loved it; it was simple and beautiful. A small engraving on the side commemorated my 14th birthday, and my grandmother’s name. The gift humbled me, in a way. I guessed that other me wouldn’t be getting any presents this year. This was a great reminder that I was in a good place, with good people.

My grandmother passed away later that year, and that was the last time we went up to Chatter Blinds as a family. I wouldn’t see other me that following year, or the year to come. It became this distant memory, like a half-dream. Something that felt like it’d happened to someone else. And yet I couldn’t help but to wonder what’d happened to other me in the years that followed. How bad had things gotten?

But time moves on. School turned to work, and work turned to career. And while I never had to wish for my dad to get a new job, or for my family to afford a car, or for the rain to stop hurting – my wants and wishes over the years changed as well. But I kept that silver cross around my neck as a reminder that those years had happened, and that I was lucky in a way I couldn’t imagine.

The year I turned 23, my mother passed away in a sudden accident. We had a brief ceremony with the closest members of the family, but she had asked in her will to be cremated and brought to her childhood home back in Chatter Blinds. My father, who survived the accident, was too hurt to go there himself. I was asked to go on my own – to fulfill her last wish. So I did.

I drove up to Chatter Blinds, following the same roads we’d taken so many times before. Mom was resting in a simple metal urn beside me. It was a long and silent trip, and I kept the radio off. I wanted to think of all the times we’d driven there over the years, and what those trips used to sound like.

And of course, it had to rain. It rained about half the time we drove up there, and this time was no exception. Fitting, in a way. Mom always loved the New England weather.

My grandmother’s old house had fallen into disarray - ravaged by weather and wildlife. The best description for it was ‘reclaimed by nature’, as wasps had made their home in the rafters and rats swarmed the basement. Without its caretaker, the old house was nothing but planks and memories. I hadn’t planned on staying long; I was just there to grant my mother her wish, and then I’d be off. But before I did, I spent some time in my grandmother’s bathroom. Mostly to make sure I looked presentable; having a shave and straightening my shirt and tie. But also just to have a bit of a cry.

I set her ashes free at the coast, as specified. While my grandmother had been buried, my mother had always been a bit more secular. But in death, they’d still wanted to be together, in a way. I didn’t understand it, but she’d never asked me to.

Before I left, curiosity pulled at me. I could just go back home, but there was a part of me that was anxious to see if that cave was still there – and if so, what would I see? Had it all been real? It was nowhere near my birthday, so I  figured I wouldn’t see other me there, but had he ever existed to begin with? I’d just been a stupid kid, after all. Maybe I’d made it all up.

I made my way down to the coastline, following the bottom of the cliffs. There was a bit of overgrowth, but I could see the entrance to the cave. I’d gotten quite a bit larger since last I’d been there, but I managed to squeeze through. For a brief moment I thought I might get stuck, but the opening widened as I got further in.

Coming back into that large spherical space, everything was as I remembered it – albeit a bit smaller. The cracks in the wall, the pool of water in the middle. And above; the floating reflection of another place.

I wasn’t expecting to see someone up there, but I did. For some reason, even now, other me was waiting for me.

He looked like me, but dressed differently. He had wild bushy hair and what looked like plastic rags draped into a primitive raincoat. There was also his cave; it was covered in those blue flowers. The same that I’d given him that first year we met. They were quite large and I could see now that they were, seemingly, a kind of sunflower.

“Hey, me,” he said. “Haven’t seen you around.”

“You’re real?” I asked. “You’re really… real?”

“As real as you,” he smiled. “For now, at least.”

“I thought I was making this up,” I admitted. “That I was just passing the time. Playing.”

“We did that too,” he said. “But th…

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