Jack's POV
Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to my precious family spectacle. Well firstly, I'd like to introduce myself, so that you won't get confused. I am Jack. More specifically, Jack Napier. The oldest son of a wealthy family. But if you ask my opinion, I am simply Jack. Just like the way my family always thinks about me.
Let me start by giving you some background information about my family. As you know, it is one of the richest families in the top five in Gotham city. We own a building organization. And the head of the company is David Napier, aka my father.
Though I am not certain if that's accurate to call him a father. I may call him one but it is just formality. Because we are raised in such a way to respect him. And I am pretty sure there are plenty of other kids who feel the same towards their parents.
There is a term that says " kill the brave, but don't eat his rights." Means he has some characteristics I'd clarify as positive. To be honest, I have never seen someone workaholic like him. And somewhere I find it comforting. At least we get the chance not to see his face.
But every success has misery behind it, right? He may be the founder of a big company. Or he may be a good businessman in his way. But for me, he is a lifetime psychopath who was raised by other psychopaths. And now he is practicing the same on us.
Forgive me for my bluntness. Or don't forgive, I don't care. Cause I don't want to end up like him.
Calm down Jack, you got this!
Let's move on to my mother. Emily Napier.
From where she started her life, she was spoiled. She was the only daughter of a rich family. So the royalty was always in her blood. Unlike my father, of course.
You may wonder how she and my father met. But it has a simple explanation. A little something called an arranged marriage. Apparently, my father met her when he got rich. So he wanted to marry someone the same. Maybe in order to erase his old memories of poverty. Or maybe to forget his poor persona by hiding it with an exemplary family of his own.
She was a nurse back then. A well-educated one let's say. And still is. I just love the way she takes care of us when we get sick. Because this is the only time she truly abandons her obsessions.
But when my parents got married, my father didn't allow her to work. Because of his endless pride of course. That would be absurd for him to allow his wife to work in a public hospital. Because they don't need the extra money anyway.
I remember always asking her about her choice of profession. I mean why on earth did she become a nurse instead of a doctor right? Especially when she had the kind of capacity and intelligence to become one.
However, she gave me the same proper answer each time. That life doesn't always encourage us. And our choices. So my mother is not the only person who avoids her dreams. Maybe so are we.
Despite being a nurse, she always loved her job. She said she was grateful to help others. Poor woman. Only if she knew the way to help herself as well.
But she wasn't always a loner. My father afforded someplace for her so that she could spend her time on. What a husband! So she had the laboratory at home. Where she kept all the medical stuff. And chemicals. My personal favorite.
Speaking of the laboratory, I am inside it right now. I think you have probably figured out that I am crazy. I mean who would greet his audience in the laboratory, right?
Well, my audience is in my head. So I choose wherever I want to act.
This place has always given me peace. It is not like all the luxurious rooms we live in. Just like the money we own, which doesn't give us any happiness.
And the good news is, I am not allowed to be here. God knows, how many times I took the bites for this. But it didn't stop me from disappearing and hiding in this room all the time. Never.
" Jack, where the hell are you?!" I hear the yell from outside of the laboratory.
As I said at the beginning, there is not only me, there is us. Me and my identical twin. So apparently, he is searching for me right now.
I stare at the test glass trying to avoid his voice. And suddenly the light bulb flashes in my head.
Haha, I have an amazing idea! Why wouldn't it come to me in the first place?!
I grab the test glass which has the paper stamped on it. It is written iron trichloride in a chemistry language. If that wasn't formulated I'd probably find out the formula anyway. I just know all the iron oxides and salts. And I can define them from their colors. All thanks to my chemistry language of course!
I take a bottle and pour some water on it. I gently shake the test glass so that it could be solved a bit. Then I grab the container of potassium thiocyanate. I immediately make a chemical solution of it as well. I grab some cotton and pour an iron mix on it. Then I swipe it over my wrist like the way doctors clean the wound with alcohol.
So the first step is ready, moving on I grab some knife from the table. I take it and dip the knife into the potassium solution. As I make sure it is ready I take the knife and dismiss all the chemical stuff on the table.
This is going to be a hell of funny!
Indeed. As I notice him approaching I gently swipe the knife over my wrist. Just enough that the reaction starts. And my wrist is all red. Like the blood.
" Ahh, shit!!" I scream as I try to draw his attention, " Shit!!"
" Jack, what happened?!" he immediately runs towards me.
" Really?! What does it look like dumbass?!" I scream as I fake my pain.
" Damnit, why did you cut yourself?!" he says tearing some fabric and placing it on my wrist.
" Accident!" I hiss as if it hurts.
" And how many times do I have to warn you not to enter this room?!" he says still keeping the fabric on a fake wound.
" Just don't start please, I am in lots of pain anyway," I reply. God if only you saw his reaction. I am literally dying not to laugh. Cause he didn't pay attention to the amount of liquid on my hand. Blood just pours more till the platelets kicks in.
" Press it on the wound I bit, I'll see to find something to fix it," he says searching for some bandages.
" It doesn't stop, God!"
"It has to! Not unless you cut it deep," he says and suddenly a moment of realization hits him. He approaches me again taking the rag from my wrist. Then he realizes I have no cuts.
I burst into a laugh celebrating my victory. I got him fooled again.
" FUCK YOU JACK!!" he screams shaking me. " Tell me a reason not to kill you with your fucking knife!"
" HAHAHAHA!! Well I was joking, so you surely won't kill me for a small thing right?" I reply as I explode again.
" You wouldn't give up doing the same, are you?! I got worried!"
" Hahaha! Now don't be such a sluggish just this once. And say hello to my audience," I wave my hand.
Well, this is Jake. My other half who shares the same DNA as me. Despite being the exact copy, our characters are not so equivalent. So much that I call him the complete opposite of mine.
He is way calmer than me. He is hardworking. He is introverted. He is much more patient. And all the opposite stuff about me.
So I assume you predict who is the favorite one in the family right?
Of course, it is him, Jake Napier, the good heir of an exemplary family.
But I don't exactly hate him for this. Cause we share the same misery. He only chose to be an obedient dog, while I rebelled. He chose to bury everything while I tried to reveal it. He chose to keep silent while I screamed.
And I know I wouldn't succeed without him. Cause I have no power by myself...
