Celeste

09 | twin

     MY EYES cautiously scanned the dull wall standing in my line of vision, and my leg repeatedly bounced up and down. A sigh passed through my lips as I finally allowed my gaze to drop to my hands, inattentively beginning to play with one of the rings that rested on my finger—an unsuccessful attempt of mine to distract my thoughts from the boredom that had started taking over.

I strained my ears, attempting to hear any slight sound through the deafening silence that had settled upon the house, yet miserably failed. The only sound my ears managed to register was the annoying ticking sound of the clock—the only thing confirming that time was actually passing rather than being frozen.

This silence—this eerie stillness—that had engulfed Celeste's house was too familiar; almost painful to my racing mind. And too similar to the one I had gotten used to back at home. The one that would consume the house within its dullness regardless of how hard I'd plead, desperately asking it not to do so.

The two painful minutes that had passed since Celeste left with her brother felt like an eternity—endless and infinite. Suffocating as it weighed heavily on top of my lungs. And dulling as it burdened my heart with its voidness.

"Sorry for leaving you alone."

The corners of my lips instantly twitched into a faint grin—a habit I had developed to avoid the awkwardness and discomfort of such situations—as I twisted my neck. My gaze locked with Celeste's identical one before it trailed over her face, intently studying the similarities our features shared.

We both looked so much alike; anyone could tell that. Her name was also Celeste—just like my twin's. A feeling in my gut told me that they were the same person; that this girl was my sister, yet I couldn't bring myself into asking her whether she had a twin or not.

I feared going through the same disappointment I had gone through when we couldn't find her years ago. When Papa came home, his appearance a complete mess; his shoulders sunken and his eyes bloodshot with a set of unshed tears tainting their ocean blue irises.

"It's okay," I spoke, pushing all the racing questions to the back of my mind and attempting to pretend that I had succeeded in getting rid of them; that they wouldn't appear again and snatch all the sleep away from my eyes at night.

For a few moments, none of us spoke.

I couldn't help but allow my gaze to trail over to the scar that had started to form above Celeste's eyebrow. A frown was quick to tug at my lips as thoughts from the reasoning she had mentioned started to nag my mind. She said that she fell off the stairs—it was so obvious that she had lied.

I was aware of how my assumptions could be wrong, but the limp she walked with yesterday had only worsened. And no one would fall off the stairs two times in a row.

"We can start working on the project," I suggested.

Celeste nodded as she headed towards the couch I was sitting on. She slightly winced when she attempted to sit, her eyes shutting tightly and her teeth digging into her lip on the impact. Her free hand clutched onto her abdomen.