He is sitting in the hospital waiting room looking around. The anticipation and sorrow quietly swallowing everyone whole, the stench of death filling the air.  His eyes wander from person to person, taking in their fear. One girl happens to look over to him as he is looking at her. He stares back and smiles a crooked smile, her eyes shift from sadness to horror. Satisfied with her reaction, he gets up and walks to the bathroom.
    As he is washing his hands he accidently looks in the mirror. The worser half of his twin brother stares back at him. He looks away, disgusted, at the fact that his brother is all that comes to mind even after he has tried so hard to not look like him. He cannot continue living in the shadow of his brother, Amar, anymore. He looks back to the mirror with a dead stare and tells himself, ‘Just a little longer’ as he takes a deep breath and then returns to his seat in the waiting room.
   About 3 hours later a nurse comes out and calls, “Bergoli?”
   He stands and walks to her and he can see how uncomfortable she is the closer he gets and then she looks to the floor, “Your brother is out of surgery if you’d like to see him now.” She says quietly.
  “Where?” He replies coldly.
  “Right down the hallway on your left. Room 256.” She says and turns to walk away.
   He walks into Amars room with no hesitation and looks down at his brothers broken body. He had been hit by a car. The police don’t know who hit him yet, but he does. A smirk crosses his face to see the pain his brother is in. The room is dim and cold. He stands next to his brother as he waits for him to wake up.
   An hour or so passes and then suddenly Amars eyes fly open and flick to him. He watches his brothers eyes fill with fear and confusion as his own eyes fill with hatred.
   He leans down close and whispers with hot breath, “Oh, Amar, why couldn’t you have just let me live my life. I had almost forgotten you, I almost became my own person.”
   “You are your own person. I just wanted my brother back.” Amar muttered.
   He laughs and says, “No, I’m not my own person. I tried to be, but I can’t, not with you around.”
   After a moment, Amar asks, “Is that why your face looks like that?”
   “Yes, it is”, He says as he straightens his back, “After you came to see me I couldn’t help, but remember all that I had tried so desperately to forget: Moms look of disappointment when I wasn’t just like you, Dad taking his anger out on me, but never you, and all the friends and girlfriends you had that never looked twice at me. It all came back in one huge wave and I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t even look in the mirror so I broke my face.”
   “And that wasn’t good enough for you? You had to go out and break my legs to finally be satisfied?” Amar said with rage.
   He takes out a switchblade and flicks it open, “No, I didn’t want to break your legs… I wanted you to die”, Then he places the switchblade on the right side of Amar’s throat and tears it open. As he is leaving he spits on his brothers dying body and walks out, finally free.