A Call from My Other Self

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Script Vidéo

I was walking home alone at 3 a.m., the kind of walk where the streetlights flicker and every shadow feels too long. Halfway down the block, I saw myself standing under the last working lamp. Same hoodie. Same messy hair. Same scar on the cheek. But my other self was smiling like I never do. I stopped. So did he. I took a step back—he stepped forward. I turned to run, and my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out. The screen was dead, but the notification still glowed: “you are receiving a call from you.” I slowly turned around. The version of me under the streetlight was still there… …with my face, my clothes, my phone in hand… and my number calling me from the other side of the street. I didn’t answer. But I swear, I heard my own voice whisper, “Pick up.”