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Besides, I could easily disprove my own theory. Eva and I weren’t one hundred percent identical. We had easily noticeable differences. My slightly wavy dark hair hung to mid-back, hers was cut into a sleek bob with fuchsia tips.
She had a large beauty mark on the left side of her face. I didn’t.
We were both curvy waists, and rounder hips kind of girls thanks to our mother’s genes but, Eva’s recent breast implants had boosted her cups above me.
How she afforded them was something I never wanted the answer to.
Looking back, I should have asked. I should have done so many things differently.
That was always the problem though, wasn’t it? People never cared until it was too late to matter.
Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a plushy towel around my body and piled my wet locks on top of my head, clamping them in place with a clippie.
Everything around me was blindingly white with a gray marble accent. This bathroom was the same one that had been attached to my childhood bedroom. While everything in my life had turned upside down, not a single thing in this one room had changed. It brought back a painful nostalgia of a childhood long gone.
Even after being here for almost eight days it was still hard to get used to. I’d grown accustomed to living a lower class lifestyle.
Now every time I looked around at my surroundings I felt as if I’d tripped and fallen into an alternate reality.
In a way I guess I had.
I exhaled a shaky stream of air and felt a fresh set of tears prickling at the corner of my eyes.
This time I didn’t blink them away or try and hold them back. I needed to do this. I needed to cry now and then dust my ass off and try to soldier on. That was the Rias way: If you get knocked down, you’d better bounce right back up and handle your business.
“You’re a hot mess Eva. Fucking look at yourself!” How could those potentially have been the last words I’d ever speak to her?
I had screamed at her for the shitty choices she continued to make again and again.
I’d reached my usual monthly quota for dealing with her bullshit.
She screamed back, as usual, and stormed out of the house. I couldn’t go after her because I had to work. We lived on a strict allowance.
Large sums of money deposits to a bank in the ghetto would be a little too obvious if someone were looking for us.
Arguing was our thing though, and that night was no different.
We would argue, we would go off and do stew, and before the night was over one of us would always text the other to apologize and say I love you.
She never got my reply.
I hadn’t seen her or heard from her since and that realization hit me like a pile of bricks.
We were two halves of a whole. We’d shared a womb. Once upon a time, we were two regular, inseparable little girls. We had the innocence that came with untarnished youth. We had everything. We had each other.
Now, we had nothing but a tale of tragedy with no happy ending in sight.
My tears fell silently, landing in my hands. I clung to the hope that I would sense if she were truly gone, repeatedly telling myself she couldn’t be.
There would be no more making fun of life, dreaming, wishing, or crying together. No more “I’m the better twin,” taunts.
The worry and heartache were overwhelming– a powerful wave determined to drown me with a crushing force of darkness and depression. I’d never been much of a crier. I detested feeling this way–like my entire body needed to purge the pain from the inside out. I yearned for a magical switch inside me that could shut it all off.
The alarm on my cell began to sound, startling me and cutting short my pity party, indicating to me that it was time to take my medication. Swiping my damp finger across my phone’s screen I silenced the insistent chirping.
Facing the shelf caddy-corner to the vanity, I slid a lighthouse novelty out of the way and there they were, the oblong green and pale yellow pills that balanced my moods and helped keep me semi-sane.
Ignoring the Expensive brand razor beside them, I took the dosage I needed with water from the tap. After sliding the lighthouse back in place to hide the ugly orange bottle, I made my way back into the bedroom, tossed on some cotton varsity shorts, and a tank top, and got into bed, letting the fluffed up pillows cradle my noisy head.
