Hey guys this is not a finished story, i just wrote about a page of what i might continue writing and want to see if anyone likes it. Thanks for reading :)
Concept: Twins, Aaron and Alex have always been close growing up, But one fight leads aaron over the edge. He tells his sister to get out of his life, and with a horrid accident, his wish comes true. Now brokenhearted aaron does not know how to function without his sister. This is Aarons story of all the depression he faces with losing his other half, switching between Aaron and Alex growing up, and the story of Aaron after alex's crash. What would you do if you could take what you said back?
Take it Back
I stare down into the black box, looking at the girl who knew me better than I knew myself. Her signature braid lying flat against the side of her head. The light brown hair mirroring my own, along with the ice blue eyes that will never open again.
The black dress she always liked to steal of our mothers, is smoothed on either side of her body. She looks like shes sleeping, but I know she's not.
How could this happen? How could I have not saved her?
"I love you Aaron," the words echoed in my mind. I heard them like a whisper; my sisters words. I was at home when I heard them. The sound of defeat in her voice told me she was gone.
It was always as if Alex and I could tell what the other was thinking. People may say it's a twin thing, but we just knew each other that well.
But this was different. I heard her voice in my head, even though she was not there.
I know there is a line behind me but I'm stuck puzzling over everything. And I know I should let others say goodbye to my sister, but I can't move. How could I say goodbye to Alex after the fight we had. I will never be able to say it because I can never regain her trust after what I said.
"Aaron, sweetie, you have to let other people see her," my grandmother whispered to me, "they need closure too. We can stay here as long as you need, but let her friends say goodbye."
She dragged me away to where my mother and father stood. My dad was embracing my mother and her mascara was running down her face, staining my fathers tux.
"This can't be real," I say to no-one in particular, and I run out the door of the funeral home.