My name is Jordan. I am Jewish and my parents named me after the Jordan River. I have a twin, named Skye. We’re not identical; we’re fraternal and so completely different in many ways.

I am tall and I am generally good at nearly anything I attempt. I admit that I’m the twin that gets all the praise and attention. But Skye is so tiny and shy, even at the age of nineteen years. She has always been hesitant to try new things, in fear of failing. My parents have always been much harder on her and constantly critical of every move she makes.

Although we are very close, we don’t always get along. I admit that sometimes my success goes to my head and I tend to act as though I’m at a higher position in life than Skye is.

It was December 23, and I was driving Skye and myself to New York City to visit our parents for the holidays. Somehow my small blue Toyota managed to tug us all the way from MIT to Manhattan. The whole way we were traveling, we were cheering along the engine.

But then it happened. The first mistake my parents have ever acknowledged as actually being my own fault.

We were driving along a bridge. Just your average tall, long bridge that was very high up over the water. Skye had her eyes closed most of the time. Since her name is Skye, you’d think that she wouldn’t be so scared to death of being way up there.

But it was the middle of winter and we were having a long conversation about school, so I wasn’t paying attention. We were moving at a fast speed because I was annoyed that Skye kept ignoring me as I talked since she was afraid of being on the bridge. So I tried to get us off of it as quick as possible.

Well we were off of it fast, alright. Faster than I would have asked for.

For a minute I was caught up in a frustrated debate with Skye and looked away from the road, catching my front left tire on a patch of what seemed to be black ice. We were already in the left lane on our side of the road, going pretty fast and I felt the front tires sort of float and pivot back and forth, as the Toyota’s back end fought desperately to keep its grip.

I felt my heart seemingly beating in the back of my head and everything went silent as I panicked, trying to use the wheel to straighten us out. I knew we were going to spin soon; I felt it coming.

The car pushed to the left and I knew I had to stop it because there was so much oncoming traffic, and causing such a major accident on the middle of a bridge wouldn’t be such an intelligent idea.

So I inhaled quick and deep, turning the wheel as far to the right as I could.

This sent us through the surprisingly weak guardrail that was supposed to prevent travelers from falling off of the bridge.

But we were flying way too fast for any kind of protection.

Skye and I were still so scared that we weren’t making any noise; we were stuck in a state of shock, unable to fully understand the reality of the situation we were suddenly in.

I could see the choppy water straight ahead as we were falling face down from the edge. Despite the blasting heat coming from the vents, I could almost feel the rush of freezing air seeping through the microscopic holes in the windshield.

We finally hit the water, with more force than I ever thought possible. I felt like a meteor hitting the surface of the earth, and the shock wave rippled probably about a mile around us.

Then as soon as we broke through the surface, all of the wind and car noises behind us disappeared as if they were muted with a television remote.

As the car bounced back and bobbed for a minute in the water, I felt my forehead smash the top of the steering wheel. Things went black for a moment.

When I woke up and remember where I was, I winced in pain as I lightly ran my right hand along the tender spot of my forehead.

Things weren’t so silent anymore. I could hardly hear myself think because the water pouring in through the broken back windshield was raging so loudly.

I felt my heart speed up again and I looked to my right, realizing that Skye was no longer in the passenger seat, yet the door was shut and the water was flooding beneath the seat.

I looked up as far as I could through the windshield and near the glowing city lights. I saw a thin graceful body making its way toward the shining surface quickly.

Once she made it above the water, all the way from where I was down there, I could see in her chest and stomach that she was desperately gasping for air.

Just a moment later, her feet stopped wiggling and she dipped her face under the water as though she was looking to see if I was swimming up after her. But I could hardly move. My head felt heavy and my arms were numbing from the frost biting water that was closing in around me.

Between long, slow blinks, I watched her kick down through the water toward my door. She was moving so fast that she had to use it to stop her movement. When she reached me, her face was only a few inches away from mine, with her palm placed flatly on the window. Her eyes were big, and I could see my bloody, dripping forehead in their reflection.

The sight made me nauseous.

She backed away and started tugging on the door handle, struggling, and I could tell that she needed air because tiny little bubbles were involuntarily leaving her nose and mouth.

She still looked strong though, even though her face twisted in pain, and her body was blue from the cold of the water.

She grabbed with her hands on the hood and used her arms to walk on it, as her legs tried to float up and away.

She pulled her body so it was upright again and she immediately managed to open her door. The water crashed in furiously around me and she stuck an arm through the white foam to grab me and drag me over her lap and out of the car. I began floating up, feeling like I was moving my body as fast as I could, even though when I looked down at myself, I really wasn’t moving at all.

I didn’t look back. I just kept my eyes on the surface, holding my breath for what seemed like hours. I waited and waited until I reached the top, the water gradually becoming clearer.

Then just before I bobbed my head above the water, I turned around and noticed that the car was sinking even further, it’s right side now pressed against a dark black mass, which I assumed had been a very large rock at the bottom of the river.

From what I could see through my blurry eyes, the passenger side was now forced shut and Skye was sitting in the driver’s seat looking back and forth from the door to me, while her entire body shook rapidly, trying to push it open.

I was tired and I felt like I was falling asleep. After my mouth rose above the surface only about an inch, high enough to take a few breaths, I just floated there, watching, waiting for her to escape and come up to me so we could keep each other warm.

I couldn’t move at all. I felt like I didn’t have a body anymore. My eyes were cold and dry, and felt as if they could shatter like glass.

I watched Skye for what seemed like forever. She was still sitting in the seat, and her movements were getting slower.

I was screaming under water, crying under water, although it meant nothing to anyone but me. Even though my arms weren’t moving, I was trying to reach them out to her, telling her to swim to me, and that we had to make it home to see Mom and Dad.

Then she stopped moving, and her face was still, her eyes remained open, not looking at me anymore but straight ahead at nothing.

Skye was drowning.

I was always the better twin in my parents’ eyes, always making them proud with everything I did throughout my life.

But now, Skye is the one that saved their other daughter’s life. Skye is the hero now. Skye is brave and strong and smart.

And I’m just the reason that she’s gone.