Double Trouble [Watty Awards 2011]

Chapter 4

Deep in the night, I was woken up by Devon trying to silently enter the bathroom.

            “Gotta go to the loo.” He whispered as I shot up and stared at him.

            “I thought you were some kind of killer.” I groggily replied, falling back into the pillows. The adrenaline rush from the shock, however, had woken me up, so I didn’t fall back into sleep. It was dead quiet in the house, creating an eerie aura. Devon crawled back under his cover, and for while we were just quiet.

            “Do you know that you’re the first one who’s been able to tell us apart?” He muttered, his back turned towards me.

            “Not even your mom?” I asked.

            “Nope. She barely ever sees us. Before we made excuses, saying that it probably was hard. When I look at Thomas, it’s like looking at a mirror, so it must be the same for others.”

            “I had a sister, and she looked like me, only prettier. Every time, people would compare me to Cassandra, and ask me why I couldn’t do things as good as she did. I fucked up everything in comparison to her. My parents loved her too, while I just paled in comparison. Once we had a photographer take pictures of us, and I heard him tell my mom that it was a shame that I was in the pictures.”

            “Is she in college now?” He asked, almost hesitantly.

            “No.” I said. “She died.”

            I still remember that day. My class was going on this fieldtrip to Salem, since we were studying the witch-hunts, and my sister had been chosen to chaperone from the high schoolers. I’d felt so proud to have her as my sister, even though I looked inadequate next to her. For the entire trip, she sat next to me, playing games and listening to my incessant chatter.

            When we arrived in the town, we’d walked with our arms linked. Even though my sister was pretty short, she was still stunning. Her blue eyes always shone, her straight white teeth were always revealed in a smile, and she had beautiful, shiny brown-but-nearly-black hair. I had hazel eyes, crooked teeth, acne, and dark hair that never stayed put. She'd inherited the best from our parents. But it was almost as if I hoped that just standing next to her would make me beautiful too.

            I’d wanted to stop at a candy store, my stomach rumbling, and my sister had agreed. Only, as we left the store, me carrying a big bag of M&M’s, I tried to run to catch up. My sister screamed at me to stop, but all I did was stare in the headlights of the speeding car. If my sister hadn’t been a fast sprinter, I would be dead or paralyzed. With a push I fell on my butt a meter behind her, and I watched Cassandra get thrown up in the air. I shrieked. It was morbidly beautiful though, my sister’s long, glossy hair shiny and flying after her in the sky. She landed almost gracefully on her back, not moving.

            Everybody had gathered, and it was obvious that it was my fault. It would have been better if the car had hit me, if Cassie hadn’t made it in time. Then she’d be here, making my parents proud, probably studying at a prestigious college. I was average in everything I did, while Cassandra outshone everybody without making everybody feel lesser. Only I felt unequal because I was, painfully so. How could we even share the same genes, when we both were so different?

            “I’m sorry.” Devon said solemnly, turning back towards me.

            “I am too.” I said, a lone tear falling down my cheek. I hadn’t cried for years about Cassie. Rummaging in my desk, I produced a picture of the two us, taken in the summer. I handed it to Devon, who switched on the small light on the nightstand to see it properly.