The Other Side of the Screen

Leo sat on his bed, mindlessly flipping through TV channels. The clock on his nightstand read 2:03 AM, but he wasn’t tired. His parents had long gone to bed, and the house was silent except for the soft hum of the television.

Click.

Cartoons.

Click.

A boring talk show.

Click.

Static.

Leo frowned. He didn’t remember there being a static channel. He was about to change it again when something strange happened—the static started to swirl, like a storm trapped inside the screen. The number in the corner changed.

Channel 99.

The static parted, revealing darkness. A whisper crackled through the speakers.

"Come closer."

Leo’s heart pounded. Was this some weird late-night horror show? He knew better than to listen, but his curiosity got the best of him. He leaned forward, squinting.

The screen rippled like water.

Then, without warning, a force yanked him forward.

Leo barely had time to scream before he was pulled straight through the television, tumbling into a swirling vortex of color. The world around him stretched and twisted until—

Thud.

He hit the ground.

But it wasn’t his bedroom floor.

Leo groaned and sat up, rubbing his head. Around him, a city stretched as far as he could see, but something was off. The buildings flickered like they were paused on an old VHS tape, their outlines blurring and sharpening every few seconds. The people walking down the street moved in a jittery, robotic way, like characters in a low-frame-rate video game. The air smelled like warm plastic and dust.

“This isn’t real…” Leo whispered.

A neon sign buzzed above him, letters flickering in and out of focus.

WELCOME TO CHANNEL 99.

His stomach dropped.

A sudden movement caught his eye. He turned toward a shop window—and froze.

His reflection was staring back at him.

But something was wrong.

The other Leo wasn’t mimicking his movements. It stood perfectly still, grinning. And then—slowly—it raised its hand and waved.

Leo stumbled backward. His breath hitched as a shadow loomed over him.

He turned.

A tall figure, cloaked in static, stood just a few feet away. Its face was a blur, shifting between different expressions, as if it couldn’t decide what to look like.

“Welcome, Leo,” it said in a voice that sounded like TV static. “You’ve watched us for years. Now, it’s your turn to be watched.”

Leo’s hands shook. “W-What do you mean?”

The figure pointed upward.

A massive screen hovered over the city, buzzing with static. Slowly, an image appeared—

His bedroom.

His bed.

His TV.

And someone was sitting there, holding the remote.

Leo’s heart nearly stopped.

The boy on the screen looked exactly like him. Same messy brown hair, same striped pajamas. But something was off—the imposter’s grin was too wide, his eyes too still.

“No… That’s me,” Leo whispered.

The figure beside him chuckled. “Not anymore.”

Leo spun around, ready to run, but his feet wouldn’t move. His body was glitching, flickering in and out like a weak signal.

The screen above him started fading to black.

Leo screamed.

The last thing he saw was his imposter picking up the TV remote—and turning the screen off.