Telepathic Twins

Telepathic Twins -- Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Hunger. Not a lot of people can really understand that word. Hunger is not skipping breakfast and feeling your stomach growl or passing by a Dunkin' Donuts and getting a craving. It's not something I'd ever really thought about, but now it filled every thought and every cell in my body. True hunger is what I was feeling. I was being starved and locked in a cage like an animal, just to see how long I could survive it.

The bastards were always testing my limits, seeing how long it would take before I cracked. I'd been bled near death, electrocuted, burned, drowned, and every other torture you could possibly imagine. Add 'Not eating in two months' to that list. Just because of the fact that I was different; stronger. According to them, I technically wasn't really human. Therefore, they could do what they pleased with me; study me.

My stomach clenched in pain, begging for something to fill it. I was already in the corner of the cell, curled up in a fetal position. 'It hurts!' I mentally screamed. They didn't even give me water, so my throat was completely dried up.

Then something strange happened. 'What hurts?' a voice in my head asked.

So I'd finally lost it. It figures after being tortured and treated like a lab rat for who knows how long. Whatever. As long as I was going mad, I might as well enjoy it. 'Everything,' I thought to the voice. Even in my thought, my voice sounded anguished.

'Who the hell are you?!' the voice screamed. 'Stay out of my head!'

I was confused to say the least. Weren't imaginary voices supposed to tell you to kill yourself or murder people or something? I decided to just ignore it and, to my surprise, it worked. The voice was gone.

The agony searing my entire body seemed to double, and I fought for something to distract me. How old was I? There, that thought would keep me busy. My vicious bitch of a mother sold me to these monsters when I was 12 years old. How many years had passed?

I was unconscious a lot from their experiments and I had no way of keeping track. They didn't allow me so much as a mirror, so I haven't even seen my reflection in so long. My body was curvier; more like a woman's rather than the girl I was when I first came here. I had breasts and curves, though you could barely tell because I was so under nourished.

I remembered how eager I was to turn 18 and be able to move out. My only wish had been to be far away from my mother. She was horrid and selfish and cared only for herself. The reason, she had told me, that she hated me so much, was because of the barely visible stretch marks she got while she was pregnant with me. When she noticed there was something wrong with me, she immediately sold me to be tortured. 'This almost beats living with her,' I thought. Hooray for optimism and sarcasm.

A spasm of pain shot through my body, and I thought my back would break from how much I was curling into myself. The cell door opened and I turned my head slightly to see who it was. Brenden. He was probably my favorite out of all my torturers. He was only in it for the money, to support his wife and daughter. His daughter happened to be a blonde like me, so the pain in his eyes whenever he saw me was clear. But he couldn't help me escape or else the others would kill his family.

"How you holding up?" he asked, as if it wasn't obvious.

"Hanging in there, as always. A Big Mac would be nice right about now." Talking hurt like hell and my throat was so scratchy.

He shook his head and smiled ruefully. "Just a little while longer. Can you try to pass out or something?"

I couldn't. My body had more endurance than normal people's, so it could go longer without passing out from pain or injury. Much longer. "I would if I could."

He shot a painful glance at me. "You know I would help you if I could, right?"

"It's not your fault. At least I have your charming personality brightening up my day. Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna stop talking now because my throat feels like sandpaper."

His face was sad as he left. The pain in my body started getting even worse just when I hadn't thought that was possible. I searched my mind frantically, trying to find something to distract me. All of the sudden, my head exploded with pain. It was like something had been plugged in; I couldn't really explain the feeling. I held my breath and writhed on the floor until the pain was over.

It finally stopped, and I felt like there was a new section in my brain. When I explored it, I could still see and hear everything in my cell, but I could see and hear and feel through someone else's body, too.

In the other body or mind or whatever the hell it was, I was looking up from the floor and people were all around, panicked, staring down at me. "I'm fine; I don't know what just happened." The voice that came out was a guy's voice, and it sounded way too similar to the one from earlier.

He got up from the floor and headed to the bathroom. I could tell he was headed there because I could read his thoughts. It was bizarre. I still felt the hunger and saw the cell, but at the same time I was reading his mind. Once he got to the bathroom, he thought to himself (or to me, apparently) 'I know you're there.'

'You can read my mind, too?'

'Yeah, where the hell are you? And how come you're starving?'

'A more important question is who the fuck are you?'

'Aleksander.'

'No. Freaking. Way. You're just my imagination, aren't you? Shit, I've officially lost my mind.'

He gave me a mental eye roll which was really weird. 'I'm pretty sure I'm going nuts, too. What's your name?'

'Aleksandra.'

'Stop playing. This is damn serious.'

'I'm not!'

'So I'm reading someone's mind who happens to have practically the same name as me.'

'Yeah, I'd be pulling the trigger right now if I had a gun.'

'And now I'm having suicidal thoughts. Fucking perfect.'

'I'm the one with the suicidal thoughts, moron.'

'If I took some serious mental health meds, would you shut up?'

'I dunno. Are you a real person?'

'No shit.'

'Prove it.'

'I live in Connecticut with my dad. And you live in my mind, right?'

'Actually, at the moment, I'm living in a cell, starving.'

'Great, so I have a hungry nut stuck in my head.'

'Who are you callin' nut? You're the one hearing voices.'

'Sorry, you weren't supposed to hear that thought.'

'Dumbass.'

'Bitch.'

I heard footsteps and I could tell who it was by how loud and demanding they were. 'Who?' Aleksander asked, sounding alarmed. 'I can tell you're panicked, what the fuck is going on?!'

'Uh, how do I shut off this mental communication thing?'

'Like I would know.'

I tried to pull away from him and set up a sort of mental wall between us. Aleksander didn't say-or think-anything, so I guessed it worked. I hoped it did, anyway.

The asshole came to my cell and looked at me with cold, hard, evil eyes. "Hello, Damien."