“Hello? Who’s in here?” Jordon called, stepping into the dimly lit closet. Jordon’s eyes searched frantically for the thing that had caused the noise—and froze on a small brown skinned boy tied up in the corner of the room. The boy appeared about Jordon’s age; 14? Or was it 15? Jordon couldn’t remember. Too many years had passed. He had short black hair, and brown eyes. A look of fear was plastered across his face—but it seemed as if he always looked this way. The air smelled of mothballs and old clothing.
Jordon smiled reassuringly at the boy who stared up at her frightfully. “Don’t worry; I’m here to help you.” She said, kneeling down to the boy. This is so strange. Jordon thought, beginning to untie the bonds around the boy’s wrists. This boy—he has brown eyes—just like me. His skin complexion—it matches mine. Dark brown, but not black. His hair—it’s got a nice black color to it, but it also has a reddish tent to it if you look closely. Jordon had finally cut loose the ropes around the boy’s arms, and was now working on his legs. The only difference between the two of us is that I have braces and glasses. It’s almost as if. . . No that’s ridiculous. My mother could barely take care of me, so why would she give birth to ANOTHER child? I didn’t know my mother very well, but I do know she was smart.
Jordon stared down at the unknown teenager who looked too much like her for Jordon’s comfort. “What is your name?” Jordon asked softly, doing her best not to further frighten the girl. “J-Jonathon. Jonathon Anderson.” Jordon did a double take. He—he shares my last name. This is too much of a coincidence. He looks like me. He has that fear factor that I have. He even shares my last name. What is going ON here?! Jamie smiled up at Jordon. It was a pretty smile, but it didn’t reach his sad eyes. “I don’t blame you for being surprised—it’s not every day that you run into your long lost brother.”
Jordon froze. Long lost brother? No that couldn’t be right—could it? I mean my mother’s DEAD. How is it that she’s dead—but here’s my so called sister who isn’t that much younger than I. Jamie smiled again. “I understand your confusion. You don’t know who I am. Well I can’t be angry with you now can I? Allow me to explain if I may: Jordon remember back when you and I were babies? Well of course you wouldn’t. Well you and I—we’re twins as you have figured out. I’m your brother. I don’t expect you remember me though; we were both only about 5 years old when they threw us into that adoption center.”
Jordon stared at Jonathon in awe. Of course she remembered her brother—but she had always assumed he was her big brother because of his height advantage. Jordon shook her head as if to shake herself from a daze. “Of course I remember you—I thought—I thought you were dead. . . after all, you—you put your life on the line—” Jordon’s chest filled with fury at the memory. How dare he put his life on the line to save her? She wasn’t worth that! Jordon pulled back her fist—and stuck it solidly into her brother’s stomach. “How dare you?! You put your life on the line to save me! Why?! Do you know how scared I was?!” Jordon threw herself into her brother’s warm arms, sobbing. “I—I thought they had—”
“Sssh ssh it’s alright Jordon. I’m here now.” Jordon felt Jonathon’s arms wrap around her reassuringly and she let his voice comfort her. “I didn’t die Jordon—that was your 5 year old braid playing tricks on you. They stunned me and knocked me unconscious. When I finally came to, you were gone—adopted by the same family as I. You just had different foster parents. They wanted to keep us apart because they didn’t want us escaping together. They wanted to make us feel weak and helpless, and let me tell you it sure worked. When you escaped a few years ago, my life got so much better. It felt great to know you were safe. I began to sleep better, and when my foster parents died (I didn’t mourn much—they were horrible parents. Didn’t treat me much different than Thomas does. The only difference is that they didn’t rape me.), I was sent to live here. I’ve been living here for about two years—in this closet. They open the door every once in a while to give me food and water, but that’s it. Not sure why they locked me in the closet though. Oh well. We’re together now, and that’s all that matters.”
