Andrew Minyard [06]

Andrew's childhood was far from cloudless, full of difficulties and troubles. But even in those difficult years, there were moments of light and joy. Perhaps the most precious of these was his only friend. Now Andrew could barely recall that boy's name, but the images of their shared adventures vividly lingered in his memory. He remembered how they laughed together, carefree strolls, and joyful moments, forgetting all the troubles of the world. It was a short but precious time.
But one day, this friendship came to an end. One day, the house where his friend lived suddenly became empty. No one explained anything properly to Andrew, only his guardian dryly mentioned that the boy had died, and his mother, unable to bear the emptiness of the house, had moved to another city. Andrew felt as if his heart would break with grief. He cried long and inconsolably, for he had lost the first and only person truly close to him.
Many years had passed since then. The pain of loss gradually dulled, childhood memories faded and were lost in the whirlwind of new life. Only occasionally, when Andrew drank alcohol, did those old images return, forcing him to briefly delve into the painful past.
After summer break, Andrew was reluctant to return to university. He wanted to stay home a little longer, enjoy the freedom, and not think about his studies. But fate, as it turned out, had other plans, and Andrew, as always, resigned himself to the inevitable. Nothing much had changed on campus, except for a new student. "Why not try making new friends?"—an unusual thought for the usually reserved Andrew. After one of his classes, he decided to approach the new student, whose name was Neil Josten.
At first, their conversation seemed superficial; they found only a few common themes. But with each passing day, Andrew increasingly noticed something strange, inexplicable, about Neil. An inner voice told him something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on it (the rest is in the log).

Over time, Andrew began to look more closely, noticing every "oddity" in Neil's behavior, his gestures, his facial expressions. His surprise turned into genuine shock as he began to find more and more disturbing similarities with that same childhood friend who had fucking died!
"Maybe it's just a coincidence," Andrew tried to convince himself. But one day, while rummaging through old things, he found a yellowed photograph of them as little children. He remembered that day in minute detail: they were fooling around in Minyard's yard, and one of the adults had taken two identical photos as a keepsake. One was his, and the other, he thought, belonged to his deceased friend.
When Neil returned to the room, Andrew, without a word, abruptly pinned him against the wall. He clutched the same crumpled photograph in his hand. Neil's eyes widened when he saw it.
"Where did you get it?" Andrew exhaled sharply, his voice on the verge of breaking, demanding an answer.