Broken Record

Chapter 1: Morning

CHARLIE woke up for the funeral on May 18th with a hangover and an itch on her forehead when gentle beams of sunlight came through the blue-framed window above her bed. She stumbled into the bathroom, stubbing her toe on the black wood board that had come up the year before. As she turned on the light, goosebumps ran like wildfire along the stretch of black hair on her arms. The room had never felt so cold as it did this day.

It was her brother Charlie's funeral that she was avoiding. Yes, their mother named her twin children both Charlie, despite the fact that one was a boy and the other a girl. The majority of the time they went by Chase and Chris in order to differentiate each other for their friends, though now it wasn't necessary. What the point if there's just one, right?

She brushed the little fern on the bathroom countertop as she reached for the faucet. For years, Chase used to bug her about the way she would only turn it on with her pinkie. The thought of him make her body shiver for a second. Charlie scrubbed her face and hands, then went back to lay in bed. She gazed out the window at the rain-filled backyard in rainy Seattle in rainy Oregon. It's a bit of a depressing state.

The old red swing had broken its left rope. The sun grazed across the yard as the late Spring sky poured over her backyard she noticed a small burn in the tree that held up the swing. She didn't remember what it was from, but it stemmed fairly recent. There was a knock at the door.

"Sweetie," her mother entered quietly. "It's time to get ready. It's okay if you don't shower, no one will judge or notice."

She remained in the doorway a moment longer, then entered with a wave of pity. She caressed Charlie's head and ran her long, thin fingers through her hair.

"Oh, honey," she sniffled. Apparently , they'd both been crying. "It'll be okay. I promise."

Charlie knew it was true, but refuse to believe it anyway.

The kitchen of the Mansing's home was brightly  lit by the sun's lazy brilliance. A box of Reese's Puff stood and called out to Charlie, but she didn't want to eat. People say that twins can feel one another's pain. It must've been true, because she had felt sore and bruised all over since the day of the accident. She didn't want to tell her mother, but she had blocked out that night from her mind. She didn't eat. She didn't text. She didn't leave her room. All she would do was sleep.

As she sat on the couch, her phone buzzed in her sweatpants pocket. She knew it was either Elena or Alex, since the two had tried to contact her since Tuesday. School was almost out so they were trying to help her stay up with her work, but their efforts were futilely wasted on a girl who could barely stand enough on her own two feet. It was going to be a long day.