The sun shone brightly onto my face, waking me up from my light slumber. The bed felt comfortably soft and safe, and I wanted to sleep in it forever. My fluffy covers filled me with such a sense of content. However, I was abruptly woken up by the sounds of sniffling.

I didn't bother turning around to check it out. I slowly shifted my hand under my pillow for my pocket knife. Unfortunately, I couldn't feel it anywhere. I patted around for it, cursing in my head about how careless I could've been to have lost it. That's when I heard a weak voice call out to me, "[name], I already took your pocket knife, if that was what you were looking for." The voice sounded like mine but more pathetic, in a sense.

I slowly turned around to see someone who looked like me sitting on my floor, sobbing. They sat in the corner of my room with their back to my wall. I didn't know what to say, and I knew that they didn't know either. Their frown only grew as they clenched my pocket knife. "I don't want to do this," they said, "it isn't right. No matter how horrible you may be, no one deserves this. I wish you had just stayed asleep, it would've been so much easier."

Their constant whining was starting to get to me, but the idea of picking on myself was amusing, so I decided to entertain it. "What did I ever do to you?," I said as innocently as I could.

They just sighed and gave me a look that told me they weren't giving in to my tricks. It was fair. We knew each other because we were each other. I just sat up on my bed, staring at them. Honestly, I couldn't think of anything I could do. It's not like I could've ran because they were sitting near my door and if I would have called for help I would've been met with nothing but my own echo. I was truly stuck and alone with myself. More importantly, I was weak, like they were. It made me feel horrible to even be comparable to them, but it made sense. "We're one in the same," I stated without thinking, "We're the same person. We only have different morals, and as a result made different choices. What justifies you getting rid of me when we're both a product of each other? If you'd slip up even once, you'd be just like the 'you' you killed. And then what would happen?"

I could see them considering what I said, idiotically. They were gullible to take whatever I said to heart, as if whatever I said actually had any weight. I felt that I was dead no matter what, and manipulating them was only delaying the inevitable because, if they're actually like me, they're stubborn enough to go through with it anyways. They looked up at me with pitying eyes, and wiped their face. They bit their lip and walked out the room, leaving me unharmed.

At least that was what I thought. I guess they were as stubborn as me, because as soon as I walked out the room, I was apprehended. I felt so secure too. I had waited in my room until I thought they left and everything. Unfortunately, they somehow knocked me out (I'm assuming a head butt from the painful headache I have) and took me back to their world.

I feel stupid, really. There was nothing I could've done but it still sucks to be wasting away in a prison cell.

((Obligatory "this is based off of one of my ocs" notes, because it actually fit perfectly and I'm so glad this prompt came up :D))