Pretty Mirror
Concentration was needed when trying to do a rather tough activity. Not only do you have to concentrate, but you need a great deal of patience. Many can’t execute such a flawless display of both, as well as steady hands. Oh, and it’s important that you control your breathing, unless you want to start all over again.
It’s particularly hard to do when your sister keeps making funny faces and you have to make sure your tower was unperturbed by the slight chaos happening around.
“Will you quit it?” I snap at her playfully.
I watch as she laughs and goes back to painting her nails. She chose a midnight blue color, which suited her pale complexion and raven black hair. Her petite frame was leaning over the small nail polish container trying not to mess up.
I look back at my own pale hands, seeing the poker card clutched between my fingers. Maybe I should paint my nails the same color as well. I know it will look good on me, after all she is my twin, so if something looks good on her, you can bet it will look good on me. Being identical twins has its perks.
But that doesn’t mean we are the same, personality wise. She tends to a bit more wild, an extrovert if I may. She’s the one who makes sure that I get out of the house and actually have some fun. I’m the opposite, a complete introvert. I’d rather stay at home and read a good book or as I’m doing now, build a fantastic tower out of playing cards. Which if I may say, is looking pretty awesome.
I reach out to place one of the last pieces on top when suddenly my nose starts itching. I can’t seem to stop the loud sneeze that causes my wondrous masterpiece to get blown down.
I open my eyes to see most of the cards lying on the carpet, surrounding my destroyed tower.
Well, darn.
Looking up at the sound of my sister’s musical laugh I pout and start gathering up the mess.
After everything was put away I look back at my sister and ask her if she wants something to eat. When I get a negative I walk out of our room and go into the kitchen, taking out the milk and cereal. It’s four o’clock but I can never resist some cereal.
While I pour milk over my frosted flakes I think back on how the neighbor’s visitors acted yesterday morning when I went to check the mailbox. I introduced myself, but when I gestured to my sister they stared at me as if I had grown another head, quickly getting inside of their house. They had the same expression that other people get when I talk about my sister.
I’ve told my mom about it but she just gets this frustrated look on her face and tells me to forget about it. Not even Haven seems to mind it, most of the time just laughs and distracts me with some silly joke.
I take my crunchy food back to my room to see my sister still sitting on the floor but now painting her toe nails.
Taking a seat on the floor and leaning back against my bed I think about how close me and my sister are. We both are 16 years old, only reaching a height of 5′2 and slightly on the skinny side. As I said before we share the same color hair and eyes, a light gray color that when we get angry flashes to a molten silver.
We have always stuck together, relying on the other when things get rough. Not that many challenging things happen. At least not to her as much as me. We only went to kindergarten, since my parents decided that we needed to be homeschooled after an episode that transpired in school. I don’t remember much, just that they seemed more worried about me than my sister, hardly acknowledging her to be honest.
What I do remember is going to the doctor a lot. What happened in there, is a mystery. But I do recall how at the end of the appointment I held on to my sister’s hand and listen to her joke around.
I can’t forget my parents faces though, like something terrible had happened. They still sometimes have that expression but not as often.
Haven gets up and starts walking out the door.
“Where are you going?” I ask her, my spoon halfway to my mouth. She turns to face me and gives me a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ll be right back.” And with a wink she walks out.
I stare at the doorway for a few minutes then get up and place my bowl on my desk. Looking up at the big mirror leaning against the wall I see myself from head to toe.
Dressed in only my blue v neck t-shirt and my favorite dark gray sleep shorts, I was comfortable. My face didn’t seem to match that comfortable state, with dark circles under my eyes and my cheeks even more pale, lacking the ever present blush.
All of a sudden I get dizzy, forced to hold onto the desk’s edge to keep myself upright. Deciding that it’s best that I lie down, I walk slowly over to my bed and cover myself with a blanket. Taking one last look at the doorway I close my eyes and fall into a dreamless sleep.
-
I wake up to a much darker room as well as feeling much better. I look towards my clock and see that it’s now 8:30pm.
Sitting up I realize that I’m alone in my room. My sister’s not back yet. I frown and get up, walking fast out of my room. When I get to the living room I see both of my parents on the couch watching TV.
Haven isn’t here, so I look for her in the kitchen. When I see that it’s empty I walk out and check the whole house.
When I go back to my room I see that my sister’s little trinkets are missing, along with her shoes and most of her clothes. Feeling the panic raising I walk over to my parents and stand in front of them.
“Where is she?” At first they looked confused, but then this sad expression covers their faces. I look from one to the over but they keep quiet.
“Well?” I demand again.
“What happened Sera?” My dad asks, his shoulders now tense.
“Her stuff is gone dad, where did she go? She said she would be right back, but she’s not here. She never leaves without me. Where is she?” I ramble on, freaked out.
Mom's eyes start to tear up and my dad puts his arm around her, soothing her.
“Where's Haven’s stuff?!” I shout but I get no answer, just the same horrified faces that they sometimes get when I talk about my sister too much.
“She’s gone Sera. She was never here honey.” My mom says, reaching out to hug my dad as a silent tear runs down her cheek.
What is she talking about?
My breathing picks up speed, frightened by her words and I turn around looking for Haven. Running towards my room again I look everywhere, turning my place into a mess.
After not finding anything I move towards my parents room. I open their in suite bathroom and turn the light on.
Nothing.
Walking back into the room I head to the closet and fling the door wide open seeing my parents clothes hung in order. Below that are lots of boxes and files.
Out of the corner of my eye I see a file on top of one of the boxes. It has my name on it in big block letters, along with the name of a mental institute right on top. I've never seen that
Momentarily distracted, I kneel on the floor and reach out to grab the thick manila folder with shaky hands. Inside I find the most disturbing information that I have ever read.
She’s not real. Haven, my sister, my best friend, is not real.
It says that I suffer from a mental illness that causes me to imagine people, in this case, imagine that I have a twin.
No. This can’t be true. I have a sister. We’re twins. We both like watching TV and eating sweets. There are pictures-
I let the folder fall on my lap. I’ve never taken a picture with her. Mom said that there are better things we could buy than a camera, so we never got our picture taken. I always found that weird. What parent didn't want to capture a moment in a photo to look back at and remember? Haven always rolled her eyes and distracted me with a new game she invented.
This can’t be happening. I get up, taking the folder and make my way out to the living room where I hear my mom sniffling. I thrust the file onto their laps.
“What is this?” I ask them trying not to scream at them. My dad looks at it with such a sad face that it breaks my heart to see him like that.
“We have done everything to make you better. After some time we just accepted it when you kept talking about-” He closes his eyes not finishing his sentence, still holding onto mom.
“So it’s true?” I ask, my voice breaking on the last word.
He nods. “I am so sorry sweetie.”
I shake my head, not wanting to believe. “No, you’re lying. This is a really cruel joke dad. Stop playing around and tell me where she is!” I yell but inside I know that I won’t get the answer I want.
He doesn’t say anything, just sitting there holding my mother’s quaking form. I grab the folder and run to the kitchen. After I get what I need I make my way to the bathroom. Opening one of the drawers I get the scissors and begin cutting up the papers that label me as a mentally unstable person.
Me unstable? Ha! If anyone is insane here, it’s the people out in the living room. Haven is the only person that understands me. And they took her away from me.
After all the files have been reduced to little slivers of papers, I get out of the bathroom and go to my room. Looking around, the only thing I see is my stuff. There is nothing that belongs to my sister.
They took her away from me. They always looked at me in a weird way and now they took the only thing that keeps me happy. If Haven is not here anymore, than I have nothing to keep me going. She was my other half. The other half that I always wanted to be. Lifting my head I look straight at my reflection on the big mirror.
Haven had convinced me to get it. I thought it was too big, but she said it was pretty. And it was, with the little intricate details all around the frame. It was a very pretty mirror. Just like Haven. My better half.
Now there won’t the other half, the plain and boring half in this world. If she’s gone, why do I have to stay here and live miserably without her?
Still looking at myself in the mirror, I bring the knife up and hold it steady with both hands. “I’m coming Haven. Wait for me.” And with that I drive the knife as hard as I can directly into my heart.
