The Devil's Lover

Gone

      I stared at his lifeless body. So this was it then? This was death?

     His coffin was lined with deep red velvet. But that wasn't right, because Christopher hated dark colors. He was in a suit, too, and that was all wrong because Chris never dressed formally. That meant that this wasn't him, right?

     But as I looked at the corpse in front of me, I knew there was no denying it. My twin brother was dead, and he wasn't coming back. This was the viewing of his body, the last time I would see him in person. 

      The viewing was exactly as I had predicted. People ran up to me, expressing meaningless condolences. It didn't help. It wasn't bringing my brother back, so what did it matter? What did anything matter, really? 

     Christopher and I had done everything together. When we were children, no one could separate us. We were best friends, and we didn't need anyone else. We were exactly the same person back then, if it weren't for gender. 

      But as Chris and I got older, the differences between us became more obvious. He could make friends so easily, and I didn't like meeting new people. I hated leaving my room, but Chris was always the life of any social event. 

     The two of us stayed best friends, though. Chris was the only reason my social life was bearable. Because I was his sister, people weren't as rude as they would be. Really, I didn't know if I would survive without him. 

      But I had to, now. I had to learn to live without my twin brother to help me. I had to learn how to survive on my own. 

      I looked away from the coffin. I didn't want to see anymore. I wanted to be alone, for all these people to just go away. For them to leave me alone and let me mourn him. I didn't want this. I didn't want anything anymore. 

     I bit my lip to keep from crying and forced those thoughts out of my mind. He wouldn't want this, I thought. He would want you to keep living like you always have, and to find happiness without him. But was that possible? Would that be allowed? Would it be bad to forget about him, to forget this loss? Could I even do that?

     A sharp jab to my rib cage broke me out of my thoughts. A sharp voice filled my ears. 

     "He was your brother, you could at least cry for him," my mother hissed. "People will think you have no compassion at all. You are a heartless child, he deserved a better sister, you're so-" But what I was, I didn't find out. I pulled away, brushing her aside. 

      My mother hated me. She constantly told me that I was useless, that I wasn't what she wanted in a daughter. She had always loved Chris more than me, and she made sure I knew it. Although around others, she insisted she loved me, I knew the truth. I wasn't what she wanted. I wasn't the twin that was supposed to survive. 

     Mom looked angry to have been pushed aside. I knew I'd pay for that later, but I didn't care. I didn't need her adding more stress to me right now. 

    I sat through the viewing, although it was unbearable. The "comfort" people tried to give was insincere, and I hated it. Almost no one was actually crying, just pretending so they looked compassionate. 

    The only way I survived it all was to remove myself. I thought about anything and everything, so long as it didn't involve my brother. Crying wouldn't do any good now. I had to be strong. I had to be emotionless, solid. 

      Finally it ended. The same false friends and insincere people expressed their last condolences and left. It was just me and my mother. 

     "Well, Em, I hope you're proud of your horrendous display," Mom began. 

     "Don't call me that," I said, staring blankly at the now closed casket in front of me. I didn't dare dignify her comment by looking at her. I pinched myself to keep from screaming at her. 

      She ignored me. "You know, it wouldn't have killed you to show some emotion for him. What the others must have thought of you, I don't know. I can't believe you. That is the height of disrespect, Em."

     "Emilia." Don't lose your cool. Don't get angry. You'll only make it worse, I reminded myself. 

     "You don't even care that he's gone, do you? I should've realized this before! You don't feel things like a normal person, I already knew, but I thought you'd at least care about this! You're no daughter of mine. You have no respect! Well, I tell you, I raised you, I feed you, I gave birth to you-"

     And that's when I lost it. 

     "I care!" I screamed. "I care more than you know, more than I want to! I care so much it hurts, but do you know what??" The tears I'd been holding in were streaming down my face as I shouted. "I kept strong and smiled because that's what Christopher would want! But you wouldn't know about caring, would you, since all you care about is people thinking your daughter is emotionless!"

     I was breathless from all the shouting. I hated her. I hated her as much as she hated me. 

     That woman held out her hand to touch me. "Em, stop being dramatic. We're going home now."

    I slapped her hand away. "You go. I don't want to be near you anymore. I don't want to be your daughter."

      And then I left. I didn't look over my shoulder, but I knew she wasn't crying for me. The sun had set, leaving everything in an eerie, dark glow. I wiped the tears from my face and plunged into the unknown darkness.  

     I didn't know how long I wandered alone, or how many stubborn tears refused to fall. I didn't know how long I spent agonizing over everything. All I knew was that my twin brother was gone, and that I was finally, finally free from my mother.