Wrong Twin This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

August 2, 2010
By , Salem, OR
It was a film in my head. A sick film that played itself over again despite my scream of protest. There she was, a Queen to Angels, standing. Smiling.
'You're here!' She ran, crashed into me. Our bodies show how much alike we were. Sisters. Same height, same hair color, same eye... Same mouth... Different scars.
She had none.
I had too many.
'I wouldn't miss it for the world...' I whispered. I felt weak. Always weak compared to her fire of energy.
'Oh you will just love it! Mom got lemon cake!'

It was always this part were I remembered this memory. It was my birthday. It was her last birthday.

The rest was a blur. She opened presents and smiled, thanked everybody. But when she got my present, a necklace with a two rings that formed yin and yang, she screamed. She sent the room on fire with her happiness.
Every present that I got, I smiled and thanked them. Even hers.

Blurs of days. Nights out. Nights in. Mornings crying. Midday cutting. All blurs.

Then the phone call from mom;
'Darling... darling... it is Kendra...'
Tears in her voice.
Fear up my spine.
'Is she okay?'
She had to be. The need for it was in my voice.
'She wants you... Come over...' An address. Hardly listened to, but driven to in record time. A hospital.

No. Running up stairs, pushing nurses, doctors out of my way. Does not matter.
Hitting the door with my shoulder. Don't feel the pain. Won't feel the pain. Had worse. Ken needs me.

'Ken!' She wasn't there. Mom. Dad. Aunt. Uncles. The bed occupied by a stranger. No Ken. Where...?

'Hey, Mel. Only fifteen minutes... hope you didn't...run...over...' Whisper. Weak. So weak. Hardly alive.

The frail whisper of smoke, no hair, dull eyes and cracked lips.


My sister.

My fire.

Blurs of days. Nights. Mornings. Visits. Frailer. Doctor says the word. Dying. Too late. Cancer. Too big. No time. Punching the man. Screaming. Save her. Swear words. Men come. Drag me away. Crying mother speaks into my hair. Holding her. Tightly. As Ken lay dying.

Still smiling.

Going to church.
First time.
Going on my knees.
Take me. I don't matter.
Let her go.

Nights. Days. All the same blur. I know this is a dream. This is a memory.

Mom sobbing.
Hospital. Ken. Still. Still smiling.

Yin and Yang on her neck. Doctors holding me back as I scream. Twin lost. Wrong twin. God stole the wrong one.

I wake up. Always to late. Crying. Sobbing. Wanting to be stolen. Have Ken given back to my mother.

Knowing this would never happen.

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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

Angely D. said...
Aug. 18, 2010 at 9:40 pm
very nice story... touching... i could picture a blur of images almost like a movie, very visual... i liked it :)
Babylufin said...
Aug. 18, 2010 at 2:17 pm

Wow... I loooove the way this is written. A few type-o's, though. But I love the story. It's awesome. :)

Please take a look, comment, or rate some of my work if you'd like or have the time. :)

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