The Twin

10/8/19

The Twin

“Shoot it! Shoot it! SHOOT IT!!!” Dylan’s coach screamed to him. Dylan shot it and missed. Dylan Adler was 15 years old and loved to play basketball, he was part of a very strong team. He went to Jefferson High School and was very popular. “Tweet! Tweet!” the whistle rang out, signaling that the game was over. His team groaned, they had lost 17 to 18, and it was all Dylan’s fault. As soon as they entered the locker room, John, the biggest and strongest player slammed Dylan against the wall. “YOU!” he cried out and punched Dylan in the stomach. Dylan groaned and attempted to struggle out, but John banged Dylan against the bench and he passed out.

“Beep…., Beep…...” Dylan opened his eyes and saw his parents, their eyes filled with sorrow and tears. Dylan could barely move, the back of his head hurt as if twenty needles were inserted into it. “Dylan...” his dad whispered “you have… a tumor.” Dylan could barely comprehend what he had just said. He was in shock of how it could happen, his basketball was over, everything was over! He nodded and silently cried to himself. His mom comforted him, but he shooed her away and continued to weep.

On the car ride back home, Dylan sat silently when he heard a laughing noise, as if mocking him. He clenched his fist and punched the door, suprisingly it didn’t hurt. His parents didn’t seem to notice and Dylan was shaking, his head whipped back and he felt himself grin. Something, somebody was inside his head, and refused to get out. “GET OUT!” he screamed but the voice mocked him and laughed again. He looked around and gasped, the windows were colored with bright red blood, dancing around, the seats looked as if they were ripped apart by multiple sharp, glistening knives. The world around him was collapsing, the buildings falling down, one by one, as if there was a monster, but there was none. Dylan squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, in time to appear in a room, it was very eclectic, each wall designed with different colors and styles. Red African masks littered the front wall, each one smiled at him evilly. The doors slammed shut, like what happens when wind hits a door, but Dylan felt no wind. He collapsed and hit the ground, his tumor was gaining control.

Dylan awoke and felt sick. He was lying on the couch at his house and could feel pain throughout his body. His head hurt, his bones ached, and his neck was bruised. He sighed and went to bed. At around 2 in the morning, Dylan awoke, gasping for air. He clawed at his face screaming, but making no sound. He lay still, his eyes bloodshot and he began to bleed. It started at his nose, the blood surged out, littering the floor with red, glittering liquid. He started twitching viotlently and his legs felt weak, he wished he was dead, he slammed his head against the wall and cried for help, but no one would come. He cursed silently to himself as he walked toward the bathroom. His neck snapped backwards and he felt himself breath in and breath out. He was dying, slowly, the agonizing pain getting to him, and he knew sooner or later it would be over. But it was never over. He lay on the bathroom floor covered in tears and blood. However, after a hour or so he got up and spoke, “Dylan, Little Dylan” he said, laughing maniacally. He stepped forward and cracked his neck. “Lets go get some revenge on that son of a bitch.” He clenched his fist and began the trek.

Before Dylan knew it, he had reached his school, and it was a new day. “Okay”, he sighed to himself, he knew that yesterdays incident was a bad nightmare. “Hey Dylan!”, Mit shouted, “I saw you play yesterday, you did amazing.” Dylan whipped around and grabbed his friends neck. “DON’T TALK TO ME ABOUT THAT WAY YOU LITTLE FREAK!” he growled and pushed him to the ground. Dylan was freaked out for what he had done and quickly headed to his first period.

History was boring for Dylan and he decided to play some games on his phone. “ADLER! What the hell do you think you’re doing!” his teacher announced, and began marching over to him. “I’m playing GAMES!” Dylan barked and shoved his teacher back. She twisted her ankle and hit her head on the desk. Dylan was shocked for what he had done and marched out to cool off.

“Oh, look who it is, its that little brat who screwed up our game!”. Dylan turned around and was clipped in the nose. “Shut UP!” he cried and charged John. John simply moved a foot and Dylan bashed into the sink. Johns friends laughed at him and took turns kicking and striking him. Dylan felt like a helpless dog until he felt himself surge with energy. He stood up and grabbed a foot. He twisted it and heard a loud roar. Dylan saw 4 people, including John and smiled. He grabbed a head, twisted a head, kicked a stomach and jabbed a neck. He stood up and saw 3 groaning teenagers lying on the ground. John charged him, but Dylan grabbed his neck. “I screwed it up? Well you decided to bring death among yourself.” Dylan heard a snap and John hit the floor, motionless.

2 hours later, Dylan heard cops at his school. He stepped out of the classroom and was met face to face with a dozen cops. “Hands up! You have been charged for murder.” Dylan rammed into a cop but was cuffed and kicked in the stomach. “You bitches are asking to die.” he moaned but he knew that his life was over. He had ruined his entire life and was now devoted to prison.