A doppelganger is a look-alike or double of a living person, sometimes portrayed as a paranormal phenomenon. It is usually seen as a forerunner of misfortune. In other traditions and stories, they recognize one’s ‘double-goer’ as an evil twin.
The word ‘doppelgänger’ is often used in a more general sense to describe any person who physically or behaviorally resembles another person.
Here are personal accounts of people who encountered their doppelganger.
This is something that happened to be over 40 years ago, and to this day I’ve been mystified by it. It happened sometime during either my junior or senior year at high school. My best friend, L, and I rode the same bus. One day during the course of the school day, she told me that she wasn’t feeling well. Her mom was coming to pick her up so she wasn’t going home on the bus.
After school, I was waiting for the bus, and I happened to glance over to the other side of the parking lot and I saw someone who I was positive was L. She was talking to some boys I’d never seen before (we went an all-girls school by the way). I was sure it was her and not just someone who happened to look like her. This girl had the same color, length, and style of hair of L. She wore the same glasses, and the same coat she’d been wearing when we rode the bus to school in the morning.
I was shocked to see her, and since I didn’t know these guys or where they’d come from, I didn’t want to go over and ask why she was there when she’d said she was going home sick. And I thought it was highly unusual because (1) L was NOT the type of kid to skip school, and (2) Why would someone skip school and then come and hang out 50 feet from the school building?
Anyway, I came home from school, and later that evening I decided to go to the school dance by myself even though L and I were going to go together. My parents dropped me off, and as I was going up the steps into the school, I saw L’s lookalike up ahead of me! I was unable to get through the big crowd of kids to go up and talk to her, so once I was in the auditorium I looked around for her, but she was nowhere to be found.
The next day was Saturday and L called me and asked me over (I guess she was feeling better). When I got to her house, I naturally told her what had happened the day before and asked her if she’d really gone home sick. She said of course she had, and her mom vouched for her having been home. And I certainly had no reason to disbelieve her MOM!
I have been mystified by this ever since it happened. Years after this I’d heard about ‘doppelgangers’ and came to the conclusion that this had to be what I’d seen. I don’t know what in the world the explanation could be; I’ve heard that if you see someone’s doppelganger it means the person will die soon.
As a matter of fact L did end up being killed in a car accident, but that happened 40 YEARS LATER! – Lady Daffodil
HE LIKES PIZZA
I have a Doppelganger. And he has a liking to pizza.
Random times during high school people would come up to me and say, “Hey saw you at Chico’s last night! I said hi but you just sat there” which I would reply with “I wasn’t at Chico’s last night…I haven’t been there all month…”
Then my sister would hear things from friends of hers that worked there. “Your brother came in last night” or “I saw your brother at Chico’s the other day” which she would tell them “He wasn’t there that day”
Then as the place was shutting down, lack of business, a sister of a friend came up to me and said “Did you hear Chico’s is closing down!? Figured I’d tell you since you’re always in there.”
At first I thought it was just a guy that kinda looked like me. But then I did a reality check. At the time I was 6 feet tall, super long hair, and a trademark jacket that everyone knew I wore.
What were the chances that someone else was wearing the exact same thing as me and had the same hair and glasses?
I figure it was a doppelganger, but after that pizza place shut down, no one ever saw him again. – Raging Towers
I haven’t thought about this in years. When I was around 13, I went shopping at the mall with some friends. As we entered the food court, I noticed three women walking towards us, side by side. The two women on the ends were talking to each other, paying no attention to the woman in the middle. I scanned their faces in passing. I suddenly realized that the ignored woman was the spitting image of Arden. Arden was my former next door neighbor and close friend of my mother’. She died of a brain aneurysm the year before. I was taken aback by this and slowed down, when the woman turned to look at me, smiled broadly, and winked!
The three of them passed us as we kept walking. I finally turned around just a few seconds later to find that…. she was gone! The other two women were still there, chatting away Yet there was an empty space where she had been just a moment before. – Theloudestshoutout
THE SPITTING IMAGE OF ME
This was when I was around 24. It was a pretty new job—I had been there for about four months—and was hoping to leave whenever a new job popped up.
Anyway, one Monday I woke up late. My shift starts at 9, so I was going to be late by about an hour. I made it to the parking lot around 10. I parked my car, ran into the building. So I got off the elevator, heart pumping and half expecting the boss to be there waiting, or at least have a message from him ready for me at reception. Nothing.
I walked straight past reception, except the secretary sort of looked up at me strangely, half startled and half scared. Paying no attention to her, I focus straight ahead on my desk. What I saw went from weird to terrifying. Someone was sitting in my cubicle, typing on the computer. The man sitting at the desk was me. The spitting image of me. Same clothes, same hair, same stare.
He looked at me, startled, and then started to pack up papers frantically. I moved faster down the hall, but he sprinted out of the cubicle toward the other corner of the building. I broke into a run, hoping to catch up with him. As I turned the corner, I don’t see anyone running away. Even worse, everyone was looking at me like I was crazy. – Campfire Stories