Dying to Breathe

2.3: insatiable bloodlust (unedited)

A/N - *Trigger warning: a tiny bit of blood and talk of suicide*

Chapter 2, Part 3: Insatiable Bloodlust

Early on, Penelope realized that being part of a twinset (even a fraternal one) meant that one of them had to make sacrifices. For them to both be happy, one had to give up the unspoken competition that had been automatically created between them the moment they were born.

So, Penelope started by sacrificing her hair, eventually opting for blonde hair as a way to let them both have their own identities (as even with their separate genes, they looked eerily alike).

After that, it was only natural for Penelope to fall into the role of her sister's keeper—especially when Millie's personality grew in the space Penelope purposely left for her. She never thought of the role as optional as she would automatically, time and time again, clean up Millie's messes for her.

All she ever wanted to do was to keep Millie safe because as bright and energetic as Millie was, she was even more unpredictable and unstable. If Penelope was the voice of reason of the two, Millie was the manic one that never stopped moving or plotting. There was always something going on with Millie, and Penelope knew she only saw the parts Millie deliberately revealed to her.

And yet, no one saw Millie the way that Penelope did. How sometimes Millie would get a blank expression on her face as she stared at the blood running down her skin after an accident. Or the way she seemed to lean a little too far off the edge of a cliff while they were alone.

Millie was as brave as she was fearless, and Penelope knew it wasn't always a good thing.

***

"What did the note exactly say, mom?" Penelope's voice held urgency in it as she pinched her thigh to keep herself from losing it completely.

"Why does that matter, Penelope? Your sister took her own—"

"No." Penelope shook her head, refusing to believe it. "What did she write, mom?" She paused, "Please, I need to know."

Her mother's cries slowly quietened before answering, "She apologized to us—for what she was about to do. She said that if there was any other way, that if she were strong enough to find a different path, she would have taken it."

***

Penelope laid on her bed, recounting the words her mother had said to her. There had been a moment—a very brief, very temporary slip of faith where she had thought maybe, just maybe, Millie really was gone. That all those times she looked into Millie's eyes and only saw emptiness staring back, that they were signs—symptoms of what she was about to do to herself.

And then she regained her senses.

For everything that Millie was, she was absolutely not someone who would do that. Millie had her secrets. Penelope knew all too well that Millie only showed people what she wanted to show them. Even-so, Penelope saw the hunger for life in her sister's eyes—the insatiable bloodlust that she chased after, even during that last night together.

Millie would never kill herself. She was certain.

Her phone rang beside her, making her jump upright in fright. Answering the phone, she exhaled loudly, "Hello?"

"Hey, sad eyes." The masculine voice on the other end made her lips tilt upwards.

***

The sound of skin and bone hitting metal abruptly sounded out just as Penelope felt the walls beginning to close in on her.