It was just the way it happened

I was born with broken heart.

"So it was just the way it happened," I repeated over and over again to myself, watching my reflection going away and waving a hand with a giggle.

We were so similar but people were always obsessed with Kurt. People were always wondering why there were no similarities. It seemed, it was detected accidentally what finally distinguished us. And no, it was neither character nor behavior models. It was not about the color of the eyes either. I had the green one and he had the blue, though. Probably, it was the very first time when the universe crashed down on us.

So it was just the way it happened, I wasn't special.

It had begun before our birth, when the news about our soon appearance overtook Emily and Ryan Phillips, our parents. Apparently, mom had already suffered from the absentmindedness by that time. The absentmindedness, which reached the universal scales now, then was the case why she continued to ignore the way how she fatted, toxicosis and other obvious signs during the first five months of pregnancy. Our parents didn't want to have a child, so what could my mom say about being pregnant with twins? She asked the doctor not to inform her husband about the gender of their child. Because both of them came up with an idea of names. The girl would be Christina and the boy would be Kurt. It was 1994 and the Nirvana's fans hardly lived through the fact that the vocalist and the guitar player of the band died. Dad was one of them. And he squeezed mom's hand faithfully when the frequency and the intensity of the uterine contractions were shown down on the monitor. It was disgusting, wasn't it?

And the fact that we must listen to this story over and over again every the 5th of May for the whole our life was the worst. It was the day of duty, the day when I always was responsible for being with my family or, to be honest, the day when my only goal was… to be with him.

Kurt was the fucking sun, which system did not imply the dwarf planet Carson Phillips.

So it was just the way it happened, we were born with the hate to each other.

And now we were sitting around the table and your glare and sugary smile were the first and the only reason for parent's tender emotion. I squeezed the fork. So what would be next? Oh yeah, the most interesting part of the story. The part when I was born immediately after Kurt. The suddenness named Carson drawn the first breath and made daddy to have a wry face. I look up at him now. It seems like it haven't been normal since that moment. Suddenly, I giggle.

And I have your sight as an answer. I call it destructive and sizzling one. Probably, we have something in common: I hate people and you hate me. And these senses are surprisingly similar.

And it was also surprisingly when the doctor still asked my parents about the awareness of the pregnancy on the 33 week during the diagnosis of the child's heartbeat. They shook their heads as a 'no' and the doctor was almost ready to congratulate them about the fact of me but he was not allowed to. What can I say here? My parents were amazed.

Guess, I was an exception and a failure for them from the very beginning. But Kurt wasn't. Cause here he is: sits dressed properly with a perfectly made haircut and a broad smile (still wondering how he keeps his face from cracking) and listens to the story of our birth. The story of how-amazing-it-was-to-hold-such-a-wonderful-child. My parents are idiots, if they don't see the thing that appears from under the cracked-perfect-nacreous shell. Is it even possible to be so blind and not to see that the shining of their pearl is a little… wrong? They don't see, but I do. I was watching him for a long time.

And then everyone's mood changed, when I reminded them about my existence with a little cough. And then the weather in the place actually changed with a sound of clapping my hands in the most irritating for everyone way.

"Don't want to interrupt you in an attempt to rebuild a family," I was lying here actually, because I wanted it pretty hard. "Have no wish to speak about the way of how I feel myself for all these years living with such morons, but…" I did a dramatic pause here to give them an opportunity to feel, how the words soaked in their skin. "Can we just skip this part and get the presents before your mouths will be toxic? Not that it hasn't already happened, but," After these words I just had enough time to throw up my hands as if there would have been a necessity to fend for myself. When dad started to speak I found out that his voice squeaked disgustingly.

"You've never could to keep your mouth shut," he said, staring at me and squeezing his fork stronger, as if he could find new and unexpected use of it. "Unlike Kurt."

"Oh," replied I significantly, staring at father back and finally feeling something besides the disgust. "This is funny, fucking funny."

"Why do you have to spoil everything every time?" I did not have to stare at you to know about your spite. I didn't have to because I could see it and I could feel it too. You had these narrow eyes and hissed unhappy about the fact that your perfect and full of loneliness world was touched in such an inappropriate way.

"Sorry if I don't meet expectations as you do every fucking day of our shitty life, Kurt." I did an accent on your name in order to show you that I had a power over you.

And I also knew that combining us in something special, something common, enraged you. Something that had never had any allowance to live. And it never would. We'd always had a mutual comprehension of it, hadn't we? You know that I know about every step you make. There is no need to parents know about it, right? Your face is full of dying light, and anger, and understanding, but you're silent, sending the beams of destruction and annihilation in my direction. Seems like it's not so long before the sun named Kurt Phillips will undergo a collapse, but... Nothing happens. It's still about forty minutes of expectations and coexistence within one and the same galaxy – yours – and we'll reach the white heat. The way dad gives you his Nirvana T-shirt with autographs is such an honor. All these years it was sadly stored in the closet. And now you accept his gift not bothering about your face at all. Seems like the hours spent for its care are wasted. Seems like it will twist sooner or later because of the joy and delight.

And no one is bothered with the fact that all these years you're obsessed with the modern musicians and I can't stop to repeat 'Smells like teen spirit' in my head.

My gift is an E-bay coupon for the 100 free things. Sure, there is a limit in 20 dollars, but… I freeze on the spot, whistling in a complete surprise and wondering as if parents are really okay with the fact their sons are both accepted now.

They don't mind about the few last months when you're begging them to fulfill your wardrobe with new clothes.

I look at my parents. Seems like on my seventeen I finally reached the goal and they don't think that I'm a failure anymore, but... Ryan and Emily still see no details. Seems like for all these years mom's absentmindedness flopped over to dad.

The rest of the day you're staring at my coupon.

And I can't sleep for a long time, spending hours of listening to the very same song.

At 3 a.m. I'm going to kitchen with the aim of drinking some water. I see your T-shirt. It's hanging on a chair. Crooked signatures soaked into the fabric with names of soloists. I'm coming closer and tilting my head. My arms are tilting next. So out of season. The water pours out and… Is it a world crooked or is it a sequence of letters just smeared? I chuckle. And then I return to my room and fall asleep at the same moment, having no idea about the morning and the way how I'll be awakened with my father's shouts. Seems like the whole Lima haven't known. Kurt is not at home; he left early and blamed me for all that happened. I don't care. I' m happy, but something makes me feel wrong... I do not regret at all. Dad hates me and mom is crying, and all of it because of me, but...

It was just the way it happened, it was my life and I'm used to it.

It was not about this. And I was amazed for only a second. Everything rose in place, when I came back into my room. At that moment it seemed that the smile appeared on my face for the very first time was so sincere.

My bisected coupon was on the table.