I looked into Katie's eyes, deep brown like my own, my anger mirrored in her own. Katie was my mirror image, my reflection, a manifestation of the things I never wanted to be. In that moment she was no longer Katie, my overbearing older twin, she was me. My hand tightened around the pencil in my hand as her voice strained against my ears. Her words, spoken with such venom, could only be likened to nails on a chalkboard. I didn't like what she was saying, I didn't want to hear the truths she spoke. My grip on my pen tightened, my eyes closed. I was willing the manifestation to stop, to cease it's verbal tirade.
It stopped so suddenly, it's hands shooting to it's throat and the pen that was no longer in my hand. The splatter of the blood ensured that not only did the toilet wall get a sufficient covering, but I did too. My hand lifted slowly into the air, my brown eyes fixed upon my stained hand. That's when I realised something was wrong. Hallucinations and manifestations where all in my imagination, they didn't bleed. They most certainly didn't drop to the floor, pale and lifeless.
"Katie"
The words came from me, forced from the deepest depth of my mind. The person in front of me wasn't in my imagination, it was Katie, my twin sister. I suppose I can't remember much of what happened next, I supposed I went into some kind of shock, a mechanism to cope with what I had done. All I remember is locking the body in one of the toilets and running home to wash the blood from my body, to wash my sin away. The next thing I remember was a little over a day later when a deep baritone spoke too sympathetically for my liking, driving the hatred of myself, and my fear of getting caught into my already fragile mind.
"Katie is dead. We believe she's been murdered."
The next week was hell for me, playing the grieving sister. My time was spent between long heartfelt talks with Effy, offers of mindless sex with Cook and comforting sessions with Naomi, where I would pretend to be devastated, and we would both cry together. Through my rather convincing show I was frightened to discover that I didn't really miss Katie, that I was glad for her removal. I felt so callous, so cold, so evil. That night was the first time I shed genuine tears, as I sat on her bed in our bedroom.
The next week I took the tentative step of returning to college, only to discover that I was the object of everybody's sympathy. Every time somebody looked at me with such a sorrowful expression, I wanted to tell the truth, I wanted to shout out that it was me, that I had ended Katie's life, that I hated myself for doing it, and that I wasn't sorry for it.
The second time it happened I felt at one with myself, at peace, and it was only my second day back. It started out as such a nice normal day with me surrounded by my friends, my hand entwined with Naomi's. Life was looking up for me, then the bell rang. I couldn't face sitting through an entire lecture on Richard III, it would be entirely to poetic for my liking. Instead I slipped behind one of the buildings, fag and lighter in hand.
Hidden from all prying eyes I noticed that I was not alone, I had company. He was the same year as me, I remembered his face from out first year induction, the slightly nerdy boy sat just behind Naomi. The conversation started of pleasant enough, random snippets about the different tutors, and the uselessness of half of the subjects in our timetables, then it turned into slightly shaky ground that I was not altogether comfortable with. First to be brought into the conversation was the tragedy of Katie, a young life brutally cut so short. It was typical of Katie to be the centre of attention, even in death. Then Naomi was mentioned and my barriers immediately flew up, ready for action should any sort of comment be made.
It was strange, that so innocent a comment would bring up barriers I never knew existed previously. Where had they come from, and why did I feel so inclined to hold them high around this boy. His conversation was innocent enough, and he posed no threat as he stumbled over his awkward sentences. Sort of like me. I found myself listening to him, responding in kind to every stupid invasive question, talking to him like nobody used to talk to me.
I couldn't stop myself, something inside me snapped, and with one swift movement so did his neck. His body dropped to the floor, a dead weight, and I ran, as fast as my Legs could take me. Taking in a deep breath I opened the door and stepped into the classroom.
Numbers three to eleven where just that, numbers. I had no clue who they where, nor was I exactly sure what they had done to me. It felt like I was drowning, flailing against the current for fear of drowning in insanity.
Only I was sure I had already drowned.
Killing had become an everyday part of my life, much like eating, drinking or sleeping. I killed without thought and without feeling, and surprisingly without detection.
Cook was such a fucking prick. What part of 'no I wont sleep with you' did he not understand. What part of 'you are not to touch my fucking girlfriend again' did he not understand.
I think he understands now.
The English teacher drones on. Fucking preaching about how to express your thoughts and feelings through the written word. I have no feelings, I shut all thoughts out. It hurts to much. They only things that exist to me now are each kill, Naomi and surprisingly Effy.
She's just as insane as I am, only she hides it better.
Naomi and Effy are my only link to this world. The final link and the only thing keeping me from total madness. Effy knows, she always fucking knows. She doesn't say anything. Only stares at me unblinkingly as if she's afraid to look away, as if she knows she's next.
Effy is always right. I know that now. Those eyes that saw straight through me, see nothing no more. Effy is no more. I am no more.
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Naomi is a mess, Katie and Effy in such a short space of time. I sort of understand her grief for Effy, but I fail every time to come to terms with her sadness over my sister. Her tormentor and complete bitch.
Freddy is a right mess, JJ and Cook too. Naomi has gone home, Panda and Thomas sit on the wall outside. Panda does nothing but sob loudly. It's really fucking annoying.
I walk JJ home, or should I say he insists on walking me home. It only turns out the other way around because he can't stop crying, and I stand there and stare unblinkingly ahead, exactly like Effy used to.
JJ doesn't make it home. He ends up in a ditch not to far away from my house. I kiss his pale blue lips one last time, as I head home, to bed, to a dream in which Katie stars. It's the dream I ave every night, where she does nothing but stand and watch me.
She's not alone tonight, Effy stands next to her, that secretive smile on her smug face. JJ hangs behind them. Emily, he repeats over and over. Monster, Katie sneers. Effy remains as silent as ever. It's all fucking confusing.
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Assembly the next morning. The police are talking. Freddie cries more, Cook is fucking mental, Naomi holds her hand in her head and cries. I just stare unblinkingly ahead.
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We shouldn't be at college. At least that is the general consensus. Were to fragile, suffered to much in such a short time. Yet still I sit here, locked inside my own head, simply watching the others in there grief.
Three words that describe ourself. A silent snort.
Cook refuses.
Freddie gets up first Weak, Alone, Broken
Naomi straight after. Unfeeling, Unloving, False.
Strange words, not at all what I would use to describe her. She had this ability to always make me feel loved, and she felt things more deeply that she realises. Her reaction to the grief is proof enough.
I'm the last to go. Can't bring myself to write the words I know I should. Unhinged, Twin, Murderer. Instead I settle for I'm not me.
Puzzles the crap out of everyone. The teacher and Naomi included.
Freddie stops me outside. Wants to talk. Cook does too. There worried. Shed, after school.
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I simply sit there and refuse to answer there questions. I'm not part of there lives anymore, I'm not even part of my own. It's scary. They never make it through the talk. I storm out, leaving only fire in my wake.
I lay in bed that night, sleep does not come. I contemplate my words on the board. I'm not me.
I want to be me. I want to stop. I want everything to be OK again. I want everybody back. Katie, JJ, Cook, Effy.
I cried
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I went to Naomi, She made me feel normal. She made me feel safe. Just like my dad's gun.
Gina wouldn't let me see her. Naomi was too upset and didn't want to see anyone. Myself included.
I begged I pleaded, I shouted at Naomi to let me in.
She did not.
Gina sat me in the kitchen while she went to talk to Naomi, to convey my wishes to see my girlfriend, the girl I loved.
She came back down, a sad look upon her face. I knew Naomi would not see me, Gina had not tried hard enough.
"I'm sorry Emily."
She steps towards me as I step towards her. My hand wraps around the handle of the knife on the table. She steps into the blade.
Cuts through her like butter.
Naomi appears in the doorway, looking a mess. Yet she had never looked more beautiful. Smudged mascara, tousled blonde hair, tear stained bloodshot eyes. Her eyes widened and I let my gaze follow hers, right to the bleeding body of the woman who used to be Naomi's mother. Before I destroyed her. I had taken so much from Naomi, It was only right that she look at me with such hatred, that I would lose the only thing that had really ever mattered to me. Yet when I looked into her eyes I saw only love, and a sadness that shattered my heart beyond all repair.
I wanted to say something, to apologise, to break down and cry. Still I got the feeling that Naomi already knew what I had done, perhaps Effy had told her, perhaps she had discovered it for herself. I think it was why she refused to see me. I loved her, I adored her, I would do anything for her but I knew I had to kill her, she was marked. I would save her by destroying her, by destroying myself.
Naomi knew, saw the blade in my hand my grip tight and poised to attack. Why did she not run, why did she not fight back against the monster who had done the things I had. Even as I stood underneath her, my blood soaked arm gently pushing the sleeve of her favourite shirt down. The one we had ripped during one of our more passionate moments. The pads of my fingers lightly brushed the pattern on her arm, the tattoo only I knew she had, that she held my hand for.
I lifted my head up, pulling her face down to meet mine, our lips meeting in a greeting so natural even she was powerless to fight it. It was a merging of two opposites, the soul and the soulless. It was my way of saying I love you, of goodbye. My promise that she would always be remembered, in my heart and in the minds of others.
It was a strange feeling, I no longer felt dead, I was alive, I wanted to live. I wanted to be with Naomi, forever. I wanted her to be happy, I wanted her to live. I didn't want to kill her, even as everything in me screamed to end it.
A tear slipped down my face as the conflict raged within me. My lips never left hers, as though we were fused together. My hand lifted and I knew these few minutes would be her last. As I moved my hand forward the knife seemed to weigh my hand down. I let it drop to the floor with a muffled clang, unwilling to end the life of the beautiful woman in front of me.
My hands pulled her face, making her look at me. Not past me, really at me. There was confusion there, and such love that my heart nearly exploded with happiness. A smile tugged at my lips, a real genuine smile, so unlike the fake turn my lips had been used to taking. There was only one solution to the problem, and as I looked into her eyes I was not scared to take it.
"Goodbye Naomi"
A single shot and a vast amount of pain was all it took. A crimson stain spread across my chest, the evil seeping out. I had returned from the very depth of insanity, led by Naomi. I knew, despite the evil acts I had committed, that everything would be fine. Because I had my very own angel that had saved me. Now she had to live, I had to be her guardian angel.
If I had to chose three words to describe myself now, I would say I am Me.