Title: Half
Fandom: Johnny Test
Summary: One twin ponders the life she shares with the other.
They are twins, and they share the same life.
Mary never can recollect the passage from cradle to adolescence. Well, not the entirety of it, at least. Time has robbed her of many memories detailing her life, many crucial pieces to complete the puzzle that is her mind.
Fortunately, the family albums serve as decent substitutes to fill the gaps. Each photograph tells a thousand words. When put together, they relate the story about a girl who lived in the shadows.
The first photo shows a bedridden woman with auburn hair. She dotes on her two infant girls who share the same face and scarlet hair. How the twins nestle in their mom's arms, their bodies like halves of a heart. What the babies do not share are the blankets cocooning them. One with a gold color, the other with a silver hue. The smiles from the mom and newborn daughters promise a great start.
'Our Sun and Moon, Susan and Mary Test!'
Another photograph reveals the baby twins toddling toward their blond, lanky father, who welcomes them both with open arms. One baby wears a onesie as vibrant as gold. In contrast, the other baby dons a silvery blue counterpart. In this race for paternal affection, the toddler in gold takes the lead. Their bright smiles mirror each other so well.
'Susan and Mary's First Steps!'
The mother appears bedridden again in the next picture, though there's one major difference. In the arms of the maternal parent rests another child, a boy having a candle flame for hair. And it isn't just the mom cooing over him but the twins as well. They share similar looks at age three, down to their bob cuts and sundresses.
Then, there are the differences. One sister is clad in a blue sundress as striking as the sky, whereas the other dons a yellow variant. Their differences also stem from their eyes and countenance. The twin in cerulean doesn't beam quite as radiantly as her other half, and her aquamarine eyes seem to gleam with a stifled melancholy. Upon closer inspection, her enthusiasm appears half-hearted.
'Johnny Test, the Little Star!'
Unlike with everything else from the previous pictures, she can recall this day vividly. Moments before Johnny's emergence into the world…
She and Susan are seated beside one another, kicking their feet. Their beloved daddy is with them as well. Not one of them can suppress their excitement.
"Another child in our family–and a boy at that! Oh, I can't wait," she hears Daddy gush. He eyes the camera cradled in his hands.
"When are we gonna see him, Daddy? When, when, when?!"
"Soon, Susan! Just be patient."
"I'm… I'm not Susan…"
"Silly Daddy," Susan chips in, "She's Mary!"
Daddy looks away from the camera to glance at them. After scrutinizing them for a moment, he rubs the nape of his neck. "Ah, my bad! I could have sworn Susan was speaking to me. She always seemed the most vocal and buoyant so I thought of her first, given how she stands out more."
"But…" she murmurs, "I'm Mary…"
In the following picture, the sisters are sitting together at a wooden table. They marvel at a curious device before them, a ribbon typically reserved for winners adorning it.
They don matching lab coats over their shirts. They also wear glasses, their eyes having seen better days. One twin sports glasses that boast the beauty of a crescent moon. Nothing like the square glasses worn by her other half.
There is more. The child who sees the world through crescents has also adopted other changes in her appearance. Her attire consists of a more casual look with the jeans and sneakers, contrasting with her sister's preppy look with the skirt and Mary Janes. A bob cut no more, her hair travels down her back in a spiral. Looking at that cinnamon roll for a ponytail, Mary gets this sudden urge to seek out a bakery.
Nevertheless, this hairdo demonstrates a strong sense of individuality from the girl. None are more appreciative of it than Mary.
'Susan and Mary's First Invention, The Saturday Repeater Machine!'
Their Kindergarten years. Mary can remember this part of her life with such clarity. So long ago, yet so fresh now in her mind…
Snap!
"What a fantastic invention!" Mommy whoops as she takes their picture.
"We're glad you love it, Mommy!" Mary says in concert with Susan, who sits opposite from where she is.
Her voice is noticeably louder than Susan's.
"Of course! Your Daddy is right; you both are destined for greatness," Mommy circles around her and Susan, admiring their marvelous Saturday Rewinder Machine. Stopping beside Susan, the maternal parent pats the younger twin's head and croons, "Such geniuses you are, my precocious daughters."
A pang of sorrow stabs Mary's heart as she takes in the sight before her: Mommy rewarding Susan with an affectionate pat to the head.
And only Susan.
"H-Hey, no fair!" she pipes up, her cheeks inflating with indignation.
Similarly, Susan pouts, "Yeah, Mommy! Pat Mary's head, too!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry! The table makes it difficult for me to pat you both at the same time. I swear I haven't forgotten you, Mary. I figured I'd pat Susan first before I pat yo–"
She starts to whimper, her voice threatening to choke out a sob. Tears sting the corners of her eyes.
"Ah! No, no, please don't get upset!" Mommy walks around the table and approaches her.
She can feel a large hand rest upon the crown of her head, her scarlet strands getting tangled with Mommy's fingers. Mommy starts patting her head. As soothing as this gesture may be, it isn't enough to make this sharp feeling inside her chest ebb away.
Actions do not speak louder than words here. Not in this instance, not with that chant echoing in her thoughts.
Susan first… Susan first… Susan first…
Her eyes linger on another photograph. The twins are beside each other with triumphant grins, sandwiching a robot invention of theirs in the embrace they share. Their robot stands as tall as their parents, and they stand half as tall as that.
Most eye-catching are their different styles of scarlet hair. One twin has her hair cascading down her back like a waterfall, while the other parades double the spirals in her ponytail.
'Susan and Mary win the Science Fair at Mega Institute of Technology!'
"Well done, Test Twins! Well done!" Professor Slopsink commends.
The audience showers her and Susan with simultaneous applause. Such is the grand reward to child prodigies who get into a prestigious college and strive for greater success. Among the large crowd, Dad pulls off a four-fingered whistle, Johnny eyes their invention with curiosity, and Mom prepares to take a picture of them.
She glances at Susan just as Susan mirrors her action. The twins trade smiles.
Snap!
They jointly embrace their winning invention right as Mom gets a shot, cheering, "We're such geniuses!"
"Susan Test!"
A short, rotund boy advances toward Susan. Despite his bling, this boy genuflects as though he were but a humble pauper before a princess. He whips out a bouquet of roses.
"Oh no," Susan inverts her smile as she looks askance at the offending individual.
"You truly are spring incarnate, a crimson blossom like no other! Your beauty radiates brighter than the smile of the sun, and your intellect is no less so!" woos the boy.
Judging off the unimpressed expression on Susan's face, it appears his words fail to carry conviction.
"Answer is still no, Eugene. I'm not dating you," says Susan coolly.
"Surely you can reconsider, dear Susan," Eugene persists, "Also, I now go by Bling Bling Boy."
"No, Eugene."
"Okay, no date then. How about a party in honor of your accomplishment today–for all the hard work you did on your robot? I can rent out your favorite food places and get you anything you like!"
Those words incense Mary, and she can't resist glowering at Eugene.
"Tempting, though you're still trying to get me to go out with you, so no. Go home, Eugene," Susan shakes her head.
"Bling Bling Boy," corrects Eugene. He rises to his feet and activates the jetpack on his back. "Gah! So be it. But I shan't surrender, sweet Susan! Someday I will impress you enough that you'll reconsider!"
He blasts off in an arc of smoke across the sky.
Mary balls her fists, silent in speech yet tempestuous in thoughts. Resentment amasses in her mouth like bile fighting for freedom, though tight-lipped, she gulps down all the scathing comments she has thought of. Instead, she screams amid the storm of her mind.
YOUR accomplishment, he tells Susan. For ALL the hard work YOU did on YOUR robot, he tells Susan.
Susan, Susan, and only Susan. Susan, this! Susan, that! Always Susan!
"…ary? Hey, uh, Mary?"
The croon of her name makes her digits unfurl, nails no longer digging into her palms. She feels a comforting hand perch on her shoulder, and she turns to find its origin.
Her other half radiates reassurance. "No need to worry. Eugene is just spewing out nonsense, thinking he'll whisk me off my feet by saying things like that. I'd rather celebrate with you over Eugene, knowing I couldn't have gotten where I am without you. Now how about we get some ice cream to celebrate our win?"
She blinks at Susan, processing the younger girl's words in her moment of respite. Our win.
Our.
A strange feeling permeates her heart. She can't quite describe it all that well. Curiously, the word "bittersweet" comes to mind.
Noticing the bemused smile from Susan, she sets her thoughts aside and nods.
"Yeah, okay, sis," she mimics her other half in expression, albeit not as wholeheartedly. "Let's get some ice cream."
She can't decide what she loathes most about the family album: how the myriad photographs of her and Susan tell the same miserable story, how it chronicles over a decade's worth of said story, or how the captions label the pictures.
'Susan and Mary's First Birthday!'
'Susan and Mary, Ready for their First Day in Kindergarten!'
'Susan and Mary Learn to Ride Bicycles Without Training Wheels!'
'Susan and Mary's 100th Invention!'
'Susan and Mary Win The Nobel Prize!'
Always Susan first! Always her other half, time and time again! Why is it that she must constantly play second fiddle?
She has tried her damnedest to escape the shadows, exceeding the paths Susan treads or veering away from them. Should Susan laugh, Mary shall laugh louder. Should Susan wish for a pat to her head, Mary shall wish for double the affection. Should Susan straighten her hair, Mary shall curl her hair. Should Susan disregard the fictional realms of science, Mary shall welcome it.
She does what she must to establish herself as Mary Test, child of the crescent. A maiden so magnificent in her own right, different from her sunny twin but no less brighter.
And yet her efforts bear no fruit. The thousands of faces in Porkbelly continue to have no reservations regarding her as though she were the lesser half of Susan, the one to come after.
Lo and behold the Test Twins, Susan and Mary. That is, when people are not ignoring her outright as they focus solely on Susan.
Susan…
Mary draws attention to a peculiar image. It is nowhere to be found in the family album, but she can see it nevertheless.
She sees a happy family. First a mother, next a father, then a boy and his canine companion. Finally, right at the heart of the family stands a teenage girl whose scarlet ponytail winds itself, forming two, large spirals. Everybody pampers this girl with hugs and head pats, and this girl revels in the affection like it's her birthright.
'A World Without Susan Test!'
"Hey, Mary?"
In her bed, she rolls over so she can look at Susan. "Yeah?"
Her twin beams with delight, her complexion glowing under the ethereal moonlight filtering through their window.
"I'm glad we're sisters," Susan tells her.
Mary is taken aback by this confession. Not that she believes Susan to be utterly heartless, but she's never pegged her to be the sentimental type.
"I know, how odd for me to act all sentimental," Susan giggles, "but I mean it. I have Mom, Dad and Johnny, but they aren't like you. I dunno what I'd do without you. It's like we're two halves of a whole. I just want you to know that. G'night, Mary."
Mary watches as her twin turns away, entering the realm of dreams with little to no struggle.
In this interlude of peaceful silence, she contemplates Susan's words, "Two halves of a whole…"
…No. She can never be that cruel, as enticing as the fantasy may seem. For all the times Susan has eclipsed her in some way, Mary can't bring herself to go through with her desire.
Ironic, really. How the one person that means the world to Mary is the very same girl who has stolen it from her.
She is closest to her twin more than she is to anyone else. No one can cognize her feelings and thoughts anywhere near as adeptly as Susan is able to. Susan plays the role of stars that illuminate the prodigious sea of darkness in which Mary has been submerged, promising company in such gloominess. Her twin completes her, so to speak.
Susan is her other half, and she knows it. She has known it deep down, this fact that no amount of denial can invalidate, this knowledge that resurfaces from her mind every time she pictures a life where Susan is absent.
They are twins, and they share the same life. Mary simply wishes Susan didn't hog so much of it.