Deprecated: (rune) mysql_connect(): The mysql extension is deprecated and will be removed in the future: use mysqli or PDO instead in
/afs/athena.mit.edu/activity/r/rune/web_scripts/lit_view.php on line
42
10.
The screen fades to black. The end credits roll. The seat next to him is empty, like it was never occupied.
9.
At the end of the movie, the girl frees the boy, releasing their bond. His ghost vanishes from her side forever as the girl watches, a steady, sorrowful resolve in her eyes.
She taps his arm. When he looks over, she smiles faintly at him, hand pressed over her heart. Her mouth is sad, regretful. "It's getting worse," she admits, wincing a little. He reaches out, but she pulls away apologetically. "I have to go."
The audience is weeping and doesn't notice her standing there, whispering to him.
"I'll see you soon."
The others are engrossed in the movie, too wrapped up in their own emotions to see it happening in front of their eyes.
He lets her go, and something tugs at him as he watches her figure grow smaller and smaller, farther and farther away from him.
8.
They sit side by side in the comfortable, familiar silence of twins who'd lived their entire lives together, memories too entangled to be separated. He looks over at her flickering eyes, watches the light dance across her face, and memorizes every small feature, every familiar twitch of her mouth, securing her image firmly in his mind. They grew up with each other as mirrors; her face is more familiar to him than his own. He never wants to forget, not a single detail.
Pain flits across her expression, and her hand flies to the front of her shirt. She's frowning slightly. "It's hurting more."
"You okay?"
She gives him a rueful smile. "You never needed to ask."
On the screen, the boy hugs the girl one last time, his arms passing through her. Next to them, the burly, tough-looking man chokes back a sob.
7.
He makes his way down the aisle in the dark to the pair of seats he'd paid for. There's already someone in her seat. His is empty.
"You're in our seat," he informs the scrawny guy.
The guy folds his skinny arms. "There's only one of you."
A burly, tough-looking man sitting next to the scrawny guy nudges him. "Be a good fellow and move."
The scrawny guy looks indignant and pats the empty seat. "He can just sit here!"
He stands there, refusing to budge.
"Movie's about to start," the burly man says.
"Kids these days," the scrawny guy grumbles. "No respect."
He breathes an internal sigh of relief as the scrawny guy, with a string of muttering, moves to another seat. He sits down in his seat. "Thanks."
The burly man shoots him an odd look. "Sure."
She arrives a little breathless, clutching at her chest, and flops down on the recently vacated seat next to him. "Movie hasn't started yet?"
"You're just in time."
6.
The first time she heard of the movie, his sister had smirked. "That sounds just like us, doesn't it? A constant reminder that I have an annoying twin brother hovering over my shoulder, always."
5.
Some people pitied him because he would always be referred to as one half of a whole. He pitied those who had to come into this world alone. There was someone who took her first breath of air at the same instant he did; there was a comforting presence that accompanied him all his life. She always slept with one arm draped over the edge of her bunk. He could reach up and touch her hand even in the dead of night, listen to her breathe, and remind himself that there was always someone by his side.
He can't imagine her not here, because that means he is alone in the world.
4.
They pull up in front of the movie theater. She sits shotgun, calling out instructions as he backs carefully into a parking space.
"Thank goodness you're here," he grumbles. "Wouldn't want to scratch the new car. Mom'll have a fit."
She grins. "You need the practice, brother dear. Remember, even though I'm not driving, I still have the expertise."
He snorts disbelievingly.
"Come on," she wheedles. "It wasn't my fault. I had a perfect driving record."
Suddenly, he snaps. "Oh yeah? Then how come I'm the one driving now?" His throat closes up, and he swallows down the surge of anger. He hates driving, hates the feeling of a steering wheel in his hands with nerves jittering, the same nerves that he needs to control the car. And even if he drives safely, there will always be another nervous driver who might be less fortunate.
She is silent. Her smile fades.
He takes a deep breath, wipes his eyes. "Sorry. That wasn't me."
She whips around to face him, eyes blazing. "It's not your fault," she says fiercely. "It's no one's fault, okay? You have a right to be upset. I'm upset it's because of me that you, Mom, Dad—everyone is upset. I feel like I let you all down."
"Blame that jerk," he manages. "He was the one who didn't look."
Her smile comes back, clouds breaking apart and letting the sun shine through. "Twin Mantra Number Six."
Together, they recite, "It's never my fault. If it is, then it's our fault." They laugh, the achingly familiar harmony echoing in the car.
3.
He wakes up that morning eighteen. He doesn't feel any more grown up. It's an achingly normal day. The world moves on, with or without him.
He opens his eyes reluctantly and gazes into an upside down face grinning at him.
He yells. The grin broadens.
He stares as if he's seen a ghost. "How?"
"What, I'm up before you? On our birthday? You're being dense if you thought you'd get away with not treating me to that movie."
They both know which movie it is. She'd insisted on them watching the trailer so many times, he could hear the theme song haunting him in his sleep.
She yawns, flopping back onto her top bunk. "You'd better hurry, because this time you're driving, brother dear."
"And whose fault is that?"
"Stop complaining. Won't change anything." Her voice is muffled. She must have burrowed back underneath the covers.
Scaring him awake and then going right back to sleep—it's just like her.
He's wide awake now. He blinks several times to make sure he isn't still dreaming. His head throbs.
"Sis?" He calls. His heart waits.
A second, then two.
"I'm still awake, and don't call me Sis," comes the muffled voice.
"And don't you dare call me Sis when I'm not around to hear it too."
His heart starts beating again.
He slings his feet out of bed, pulls on his jeans and T-shirt. In his jeans pocket, he finds a crumpled twenty dollar bill that he doesn't remember putting there.
Money for two tickets.
He almost skips into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
The world moves on, heedless of small miracles.
2.
SEVENTEEN-YEAR-OLD GIRL DIES IN CAR ACCIDENT
... The metal shard went clean through her heart; there was no pain or suffering... may she rest in peace.
1.
He is the twinless twin. He is alone.
Sherry Nyeo