Ellie woke up, startled, next to herself.
The other Ellie screamed, just as Ellie remembered, and Ellie dutifully rolled off the bed, hitting the floor with a loud thump. It hadn’t been the dog, after all.
It was November’s fault. On the last day of November, Ellie did something she’d never done before: nearly finish her Christmas shopping.
In previous years she’d always found herself at least one present behind on Christmas morning. Most people Christmas traditions involved stockings and log fires, but not Ellie’s. For her, the festive season was all about speed knitting and wrapping unwanted possessions, but not this year. There would be no splitting up the few things she had bought for loved ones (“Two for Gran, none for James, so one for each”), no pretending that garden pebbles were moon rock.
Ellie had gone smugly to bed. It wasn’t even December! Who managed to do almost all their Christmas shopping a month early? Adulting. There was only her little brother’s present to buy, and she’d already researched the baseball set he’d want. She’d put on her pyjamas – the ones with little bears on – turned out the light, and snuggled up happily
RING-RING
THUMP – sounded like a dog falling off the bed, or something.
RING-RING
That isn’t my alarm, thought Ellie.
RING-RING
Unwilling to turn on the light, she reached for her phone. The time was 00.01.
RING-RING
It wasn’t her phone, either. Come to think of it, phones didn’t ring any more. She caught a shadowy sight of herself in the mirror: she looked surprisingly awake, considering. She didn’t feel awake.
RING-RING
Oh well, she’d have to turn on the light. Ellie fumbled for her lamp and gave it a click. A large, not-quite-human shape loomed by the door.
AAAAAAAAAAAHHH
Ellie was awake now. “Get out of my bedroom!” She screamed for help.
The figure at the bottom of the bed stared dispassionately at her.
“I can’t.”
“Get out! Get out! Get out!”
“I said I can’t.” The figure sounded deeply unimpressed.
“Get out! Get out! I’ll call the police! Get out!”
The figure didn’t move, but just stared back at her. Ellie picked up her phone and waved it threateningly.
“This is your last chance. Get out, or I’ll call the police!” Where were her housemates?
The figure didn’t bother replying. It continued to recline.
It was then Ellie realised the figure wasn’t human, and she gave a little gasp. It was… an elf, although not quite how she imagined an elf. This one was distinctly Mediterranean: long, flowing locks, a baggy, billowing cotton shirt, and a look of utter disdain.
“I’m here from Santa,” said the elf, “I have a present for you.”
“Santa?” Ellie replied.
“Yeah. Guy who delivers presents. Hence the present.” He pointed at a small, rectangular parcel in his hand.
“I know who Santa is!”
“Great.” He shook the present slightly.
“From Santa? You really expect me to believe that?”
“Don’t care.”
“You break into my room at night, expecting me to believe you’re an elf from Santa,” said Ellie, talking extra-loudly, trying to wake up her flatmates.
“Santa and the elves sent me. I don’t care what you believe.”
A theory dawned on Ellie.
“I know why my flatmates aren’t waking up.”
“Magical sleep.”
“No, not magical sleep. That’s not real either. I know your game.”
“Everyone says that.”
“This is a joke. They’re all listening.”
The elf sighed. “Nope.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s exactly what you are. You lot! I know you’re listening! It’s not funny!”
There was no laughter, or noise of any kind.
“I really am calling the police!” She reached for her phone and clambered out of bed, looking for some kind of weapon. To her astonishment, there was one right beside the wardrobe.
A baseball bat. Not just any baseball bat, but the entire baseball set she’d planned to buy for her nephew Tom the next day.
Ellie sat back against her headboard. “How… why…”
“Did your shopping before November. Saved us work.”
“No, not the present, the baseball set. Only I knew I was buying that.”
The elf frowned. “What?”
Ellie contemplated the situation. Something strange was going on, and she decided to investigate further. “If this isn’t a joke, why didn’t you turn the light on?”
“Light switch is far away. I figured you’d turn it on.”
“Far away? You’ve come from Lapland. If you’re telling the truth, which you can’t be, because there’s no such thing as elves or Santa.”
The elf shrugged. He was wearing a small pointy hat, and his collars weren’t done up. He shook the present again.
“Your present’s here.”
“Er, thanks?” She waited for him to stand up and bring her the present, but he limply threw it on the end of the bed. Ellie clambered down the duvet and unwrapped it.
“Oh, it’s an advent calendar! Is this, like, a present from a secret admirer?”
“Yeah, Santa says thanks.”
“Like a lover, or a friend, or something. Has Louise finally noticed that I sometimes do her dishes for her?”
“As I said, it’s from Santa.”
“Yeah, right. I thought Santa chilled out with all the elves and fairies and other made-up people until Christmas Eve? He doesn’t give Advent presents.”
“Only to people who’ve done their shopping. To give them something to think about in December.”
“Something to-“
“To thank them.”
“Er, right. I’ve never heard of this.”
“Know anyone who’s finished their Christmas shopping in November?”
On reflection, Ellie didn’t.
“So, you, a weird guy who looks like an elf, turns up in my room at midnight, hands me a box of chocolates, claims he’s from Santa, and asks me to eat a caramel.”
“Oh, don’t eat them.”
“What?”
“They contain powerful magic. Bad things happen.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” She opened the first door and ate its chocolate.
RING-RING
Ellie woke up, startled, next to herself.
The other Ellie screamed, just as Ellie remembered, and Ellie dutifully rolled off the bed, hitting the floor with a loud thump. It hadn’t been a dog after all.
She stayed where she was and, sure enough, she heard herself screaming at something – she had a weirdly posh scream – then that something replying, then two of them having an awkward conversation.
She’d gone back in time.
She heard herself talk to the elf, and the present land with a soft rustle on the bed, and she listened to Past Ellie unwrap the present, then eat the first chocolate. There was the sound of footsteps.
The elf spoke, “You’ve wasted a chocolate.”
“No I didn’t, it was tasty,” said Ellie’s voice, from Ellie’s bed, even though Ellie was still on the floor, hiding behind the bed. This made no sense. Whoever was talking to the elf had exact same scream as her, and had said exactly the same words as she did, in exactly the same conversation.
“No, I didn’t. It was tasty. Now get lost before I call the police.”
“Whatever.”
The elf disappeared with a tiny ‘pop’. With nothing better to do, the person in Ellie’s bed turned the light off and went to sleep.
Ellie lay behind the bed, trying to remain as quiet as she could. There was someone in her bed who talked like her, sounded like her, who was in the exact same position shed been in when she ate the chocolate…
No, that was impossible. She couldn’t be watching her own life. But she’d definitely gone back in time to midnight, and she definitely watched
AAAAAH
Ellie screamed. Or rather, Ellie didn’t scream, but someone with the exact same posh scream as Ellie screamed.
“What are you doing in my room?” The light was on, and Ellie saw herself standing on the bed, with the exact same bear pyjamas, holding a large toy baseball bat.
“Who are you? Why do you look like me?”
“I am you.”
“What?”
“I am you.”
“You can’t be me. I’m me.”
Our Ellie didn’t really have a response to this truism, so she decided to tell the full truth.
“I ate a chocolate from the creepy elf, then I appeared next to the bed…”
“No, I ate a chocolate. Nothing happened. It wasn’t even tasty. Then you appeared.”
“I’m the real me-“
The Other Ellie lifted the baseball bat threateningly.
“Look, I don’t know who you are, or why you’re here, or why you’re pretending to be me. I don’t know if this is… identity theft, or something, but I’ve caught you. You’re rumbled. Get out of my flat.”
“But I can prove I’m you – me – I can prove I’m me and you!”
The Other Ellie held the bat where it was, listening.
“Where did you get that baseball bat from?” asked Our Ellie.
“Never you mind.”
“You don’t know where it came from, do you? Last night I finished all my Christmas shopping, except for Tom’s baseball set. That’s from Tom’s baseball set.”
The Other Ellie looked at the bat, but said nothing.
“You – we – I – was going to buy that today, but it was already there last night, when the creepy elf turned up in my room. I don’t know how it got there.”
The Other Ellie lowered the bat slightly.
“You must have been stalking me, seeing what I was doing, where I was going. This is really creepy.”
“No, I know you, I know me. I like Kinder eggs. I hate the downstairs sofa. I have a recurring dream about a river flooding and not being able to run away in time. I like liquorice but hate Marmite. I have a scar from falling off a swing at the age of four. I said something really embarrassing to Lucy Wilson in an English lesson in Year 8. I think one of my flatmates is great, but I secretly think the other one doesn’t wash up enough and I’m too shy to say.”
The Other Ellie lowered the bat.
“This can’t be happening.”
“I know. There’s no way one of Santa’s elves just turned up and gave me a magical Advent calendar, but there it is.”
“Am I going mad? Is this me being mad?”
“Maybe. But it’s me who’s going mad, not you.”
The two Ellies sat on the bed and stared at one another, each with the same panicked thoughts.
Jezknee 