Sam turns the page of her newest Goth poetry book. She shifts position from lying on her front facing the end of her bed to leaning against her headboard, pillows supporting her back, and legs curled in. She lifts the book with her delicate hands and continues reading. She's so pretty when she's studious like this. She doesn't know I'm watching her; she doesn't know I'm even here. And there's no way I'd ever tell her.
I sit in the corner quietly and gaze across the room. It's so dark except for the light by which Sam reads. And all of it, from the black drapes on her bed and window, to the posters on her wall, to the candles on her dresser, defines her and marks this room as her sanctuary. Deeper within her shines an intelligent and strong woman who is clever, creative, and compassionate, the essence of freedom and beauty. It is both my blessing and my curse that I am in love with her.
She could never love me back.
I know she likes someone else, though she won't admit it. And I know with a certainty that cannot be disputed that he likes her back, even if he isn't aware yet that he does. It is so disgustingly obvious how much these two feel for each other and how much (though I hate to say it) they are meant to be together. I will not interfere. It's best that she not ponder my existence, as I have, and that she continues to live her life just as she has, forgetting me altogether.
Sam's movement startles me, but I catch myself before revealing that I'm here. She stretches and yawns and puts the book on her night table. She checks her watch (and I quickly peek at her clock – 10:47, she's going to go to sleep soon). She leaves the room, heading towards the bathroom. I stand up and take my turn to stretch. I have a short debate on whether I should stay and watch her fall asleep, brushing her beautiful black hair out of her face, or whether I should just leave now and save myself from further torture.
I decide to go without another glance back and I take off through her window (her favorite escape route as well as mine). As I fly away across the moonless sky, the sad reality of my life begins to sink in.
When Vlad created me, he thought me an imperfection. Now I know this to be true, for I am not Daniel, but Danielle, and though I may share everything in common with Danny, from similar appearance, to same taste in music, to same feelings for a girl, Sam will only love one of us, and I am not him.
That's it, that's all. Happy (belated) Valentine's Day people! Eh, I'm not really one for much of this holiday… can you tell? I was interested in Dani and the fact that she is a clone, this is what I came up with. Hope you enjoyed.
.:Shadow:.
