
My name is Rose. I'd like to say I'm different from other people. But I can't tell, so read this and tell me if I am. My pillowbook.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Chapters: 12 - Words: 10,447 - Reviews: 12 - Favs: 3 - Follows: 4 - Updated: 03-18-13 - Published: 01-22-12 - id: 2990952
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I stared at the white wall that was as blank as my face right now. My stomach felt like it was pushing at the back of my throat I was so scared.
He had to be all right.
He had to…
My other half… the one who could bring a smile through a stream of tears. The one who had always been annoying and a constant presence. A presence that I didn't realize until now that I'd taken for granted.
Malcolm I need my other half, I thought, looking up as a nurse in pale blue surgical scrubs entered the room. I all but jumped her in my haste to get results on how my twin was. I didn't say anything but she knew what I wanted because her eyes filled with tears and she gave a small shake of her head.
My head reeled. It couldn't be true. I would've felt it if Malcolm had died, I thought desperately.
But I did feel it. I felt a horrible emptiness inside like my heart had stopped beating as well.
The room blurred, the colors fading. When they came back into focus I was in school, the people who walked past me staring at me and whispering. People telling me that they were sorry for my loss. But I didn't want their pity or their apologies.
I wanted my brother.
I woke slower this time, blinking sluggishly in the half-light of dawn. I still had that feeling like the world had just come crashing down on me when something clicked. It had been a dream. Malcolm was fine and sleeping in the room next to mine, a few feet from where I lay.
I curled into a tighter ball under my blankets, relief bringing the sleepiness with it. What was with all these strange dreams lately? Oh yeah, it's a side affect of my meds…
Twelve hours later:
"God boy, get down from there!" I yelled at Malcolm again as he walked along the thin metal railing, a few foot drop to grass on one side, a twelve foot drop to concrete steps on the other.
Yes. Walked. Along. The railing.
I wouldn't have thought it possible much less sane, but then again, when had Malcolm in the last thirteen years acted sane?
To me as well as the students here, Vassar College was a place of learning and study as well as many opportunities to exercise in the form of non-dangerous activities.
To Malcolm however, the place was a concrete playground, complete with cool architecture (to jump on/over/off of), plenty of railings (to walk along/swing on) and walls (to run up/climb/jump off of) with steep drops on one or more sides.
I eventually just refused to look at him and went off to find peace and quiet. He followed me.
"Hey Rose! Check what I can do on this-"
"I'd really rather not."
"C'mon, it will take like two seconds!"
"No."
"It's not even that dangerous!"
"Do you even know what that word means?" I asked him doubtfully.
"Uhh- birdy!" He said having spotted a robin in a near by tree. A tree that looked very climbable- oh no.
"Come back birdy!" Malcolm called, already fifteen feet off the ground and climbing fast. Would you ever guess he was thirteen by the way he acts? The robin hopped farther along the branch, distancing itself without having to fly anywhere.
Well at least Malcolm had enough sense not to follow it out there- HOLY CRAP.
"Malcolm, please leave the bird alone!" I cried, my stomach contracting with fear as he balanced on a thin branch that swayed and bobbed under his weight. Obviously not sensing my distress, he inched farther along the branch, holding onto another branch that was even thinner with his hands.
"It's fine Rose; I'm not going to fall."
Yeah, that's what you say now. I considered going up after him, but after three laps of sunset lake and making the mistake of sitting down, my legs could barely support my body.
"If you fall I'm not paying your medical bills!" I called, trying to sound nonchalant. I think it failed though because the next second I let out a strangled shriek as Malcolm's feet momentarily lost contact with their branch thirty feet above my head.
Finally, that stupid bird flew off and Malcolm began his decent. Five feet from the bottom, he jumped and landed, beaming beside me.
I resisted the urge to slap him.
"I swear you'll be the death of me. You will die a premature death, I'm sure of it."
"But I won't."
"But you will."
"But I won't."
Just a typical weekend for the Callagy twins.
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