I did not sleep that night. I couldn't. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that photo of myself in bed. I looked exactly as I had just a few hours before. Every time I moved, I thought I heard the small click of a camera from the dark corners of the room.
When the sun came up, I felt very nervous. My coffee tasted bad, but I kept drinking it because I needed to do something with my hands. The stack of photos sat on the kitchen table. They seemed to be daring me to look at them again. I told myself to stay away. I knew that looking at them would only make things worse. But after my second cup of coffee, I had to look.
I spread the photos out in a line. I was careful not to look at the last one—the one of me sleeping. Instead, I looked at the beach photo. I called it "The Impossible Vacation." I was 100% sure it never happened. But the picture was so clear. It was so detailed that I could almost feel the salty air and the wind on my skin.
I brought the photo closer to my eyes. I saw something in the background. At first, it was just a blurry light. But as I looked harder, the shape became clear. It was a hotel sign behind a sand dune. It had teal letters that were peeling off. It said: Seaview Inn.
I did not know that name. I put the photo down and opened my laptop. I searched for the name. I found it quickly. The Seaview Inn was in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.
My heart skipped a beat. Myrtle Beach? I had never been there. I didn't go there as a kid, or in college, or ever. But in the photo, I was smiling like I belonged there.
I looked at the photos on the hotel’s website. It was an old website, but the pictures were clear. There it was: the same boardwalk, the same sand, and the same teal sign with a crack in the letter V. It was exactly like the photo in my hand.
I leaned back in my chair. My fingers felt cold. There was no logical explanation. It didn't make sense. Unless... maybe I had forgotten?
That thought made me feel even more scared. I have lost my keys before. I have forgotten birthdays. But an entire trip? How could I forget a whole week of my life? It seemed impossible. But the photo was right there. It was real proof.
I checked everything. I looked at my old emails. I looked at my bank records. I looked at my old text messages. I was looking for a hotel bill or a plane ticket. I found nothing. There was no record of the trip at all.
Then, I checked the photo album on my phone. I found something that made me feel sick. There was a gap. In August 2018, there was an entire week with no photos. There were no texts and no notes. It was just silent. It was like a page had been ripped out of a book.
My chest felt very tight. That was the same date written on the back of the beach photo. I dropped my phone on the counter. It felt like the phone had burned me.
The smart part of my brain tried to find an answer. Maybe I deleted the photos? Maybe I was very stressed and just forgot? Maybe the girl in the photo wasn't me, but just someone who looked like me?
But I knew the truth. That was me. I recognized the way I smiled. I saw the small scar on my wrist from a bike accident when I was twelve. I saw the tiny freckle near my neck. These details were too perfect to be a mistake. I was there. I just could not remember being there.
Suddenly, the room felt very small. The air felt heavy. I shoved the photos back into the box and closed the lid. I pushed the box back into the corner. I wanted to keep it out of my sight. I tried to act like a normal person.
For a few hours, I pretended everything was okay. I took a shower and got dressed. I went to work. I wrote reports and answered emails. I smiled at the people I worked with. On the outside, I looked fine. But the image of that beach stayed in my mind. Every time I blinked, I saw it.
By lunch, I couldn't handle it anymore. I opened my phone and went back to the hotel website. I stared at the pictures until my eyes hurt. That is when I saw something else.
On the hotel’s main page, there was a group photo of guests. There were families and couples. In the corner of the photo, I saw a man wearing sunglasses. It was my ex-boyfriend. He was standing in the exact same spot where he stood in my Polaroid photo.
The date on the website said August 2018.
I shut my laptop quickly. My heart was racing. He was there too. He knew about this. He had to know.
The rest of the day was a blur. I couldn't focus on work. I felt like I couldn't breathe because the mystery was so heavy. By the time I got home, I had made a choice. I needed to get answers.
I called his phone number. It rang a long time before he answered. His voice sounded tired and angry. "What do you want?" he asked.
I didn't say hello. I just said, "The beach. Myrtle Beach. August 2018. You took me there."
There was silence on the other end. Then, he laughed. It was a mean, fake laugh. "What are you talking about?"
"The photos," I said. "The Seaview Inn. I found them. Don't lie to me."
There was more silence. I imagined him walking around his room, nervous. He always did that when he was lying.
Finally, he spoke. "You are going crazy."
"No," I shouted. "I saw you! You are on the hotel website. You were there. We were both there!"
His voice changed. It became lower and very tight. He sounded like he was panicking. "Do not call me again," he said.
Then, he hung up.
I stared at my phone. I felt a mix of anger and fear. He was hiding something from me. He wasn't just annoyed; he was scared. That meant I was right.
I walked back and forth in my apartment until it got dark. My thoughts were spinning. If he knew the truth, he was keeping a secret. If he was keeping a secret, I had to find out what it was.
But I never got the chance to look further.
That night, I went to close my curtains. I saw something stuck to the window. It was another Polaroid photo. It was taped to the glass from the outside.
My hands were shaking as I pulled it off the glass.
The photo showed me. I was standing in that exact spot, pulling the curtains closed. I turned the photo over to look at the back.
The date on the back said: Tomorrow.
