Sobowtór i Alter Ego

ENG Version: The Doppelganger and the Alter Ego

The stage is empty. It is unclear whether it is a theater stage, a waiting room, or the inside of someone’s head.

In the center stand three chairs.

On the first sits Sapojnikowa’s Doppelganger. She looks exactly the same. The same way of sitting, the same gesture of adjusting her sleeve, the same faint anxiety in her eyes. But something is off. She is too similar. Like a photograph of a person who hasn't had to choose anything for a long time.

On the second sits Sapojnikowa’s Alter Ego. She doesn't resemble her at all. She is dressed the way Sapojnikova never dresses. She looks the way a person looks when they don't have to explain their own life to anyone.

They remain silent for a long time. Finally, the Doppelganger asks: "Which of us is real?"

The Alter Ego replies: "That depends on what you mean by real."

"The one people see."

"In that case, you."

"And you?"

"I am the one no one sees, and then everyone says: but that was you."

Silence. The Doppelganger looks at her own hands. "I thought you were braver than me."

The Alter Ego smiles. "And I spent my whole life thinking you were."

The Doppelganger lowers her gaze. "No. I only look like I am."

The Alter Ego nods. "That’s exactly why we don’t meet. Each of us gave the other our best traits."

A long silence. Then the Doppelganger asks: "Tell me… if no one were watching—who would we be?"

The Alter Ego doesn't answer right away. "I don’t know. But maybe, for the first time, we wouldn’t have to act."

"And what if there’s nothing underneath?"

"Then we’ll set up two chairs and keep sitting."

The Doppelgänger laughs softly. "Then what is the third one for?"

The Alter Ego turns her head. Beside them stands one more chair. Empty.

They stare at it for a long time. Finally, the Alter Ego says: "For the third one."

"Who is that?"

"The one who will be neither you nor me."

"Then who?"

The Alter Ego is silent for a moment. "The one who hasn’t been chosen yet."

The Doppelganger furrows her brow. "So she exists?"

"I don’t know."

"Then why leave a space for her?"

The Alter Ego shrugs. "Because as long as no one sits down, everything is still possible."

They both sit motionless. And suddenly, it becomes clear that this is not a conversation between two people. This is the moment before stepping onto the stage. That single second when a person doesn't yet know which version of themselves they are about to become.

There is still no one in the third chair. But from this moment on, it is impossible to tell if it is truly empty...

Scena jest pusta. Nie wiadomo, czy to scena teatru, poczekalnia, czy wnętrze czyjejś głowy.

Pośrodku stoją trzy krzesła.

Na pierwszym siedzi Sobowtór Sapojnikowej.

Wygląda dokładnie tak samo. Ten sam sposób siedzenia, ten sam gest poprawiania rękawa, ten sam lekki niepokój w oczach. Ale coś się nie zgadza. Jest zbyt podobna. Jak fotografia człowieka, który od dawna nie musi już niczego wybierać.

Na drugim siedzi Alter ego Sapojnikowej.

Nie przypomina jej wcale. Jest ubrana tak, jak Sapojnikowa nigdy się nie ubiera. Wygląda tak, jak wygląda się wtedy, kiedy nie trzeba nikomu tłumaczyć własnego życia.

Milczą długo.

W końcu Sobowtór pyta:

— Która z nas jest prawdziwa?

Alter ego odpowiada:

— To zależy, co rozumiesz przez prawdziwa.

— Ta, którą ludzie widzą.

— W takim razie ty.

— A ty?

— Ja jestem tą, której nikt nie widzi, a potem wszyscy mówią: przecież to byłaś ty.

Cisza.

Sobowtór patrzy na własne dłonie.

— Myślałam, że jesteś odważniejsza ode mnie.