Two-Faced
by Michelle Prodaniuk
I see things everywhere, figures and shapes that cover the ground and the sky. I see them during the day and at night; they spiral around the air. At work, I answer phones and often get distracted by the swirls of black or white. People hang up on me a lot; I don’t care for their complaints, anyway. The shapes form on walls, sometimes they look like monsters; other times, they look like nothing. What I see the most is my twin; my twin isn’t real, but at the same time, he is. He appears out of the blue and will have conversations, eat together, even watch TV together. We’re very different; he likes different foods, clothes, and TV; he also has a nasty temper and makes threats or gives bad looks to people on the street. I’m glad I have my twin; life would be awfully lonely without him.
It’s a Tuesday, and I’m taking the bus to work just like every other day. My twin sits beside me; the bus is fairly busy with people going to work and such. I see a woman standing in front of the bus. She is extremely beautiful with long red hair and bright green eyes; she wears a long black coat. She looks over and has seen me staring. She looks away fast with a frightened look; I wonder why she looks so scared. Then I see my twin and his eyes pierce of evil and malice; I don’t like when my twin scares people…I don’t like when my twin hurts people either.
At work, the shadows dance around the offices and the sky; I watch them and talk to my twin about the woman with red hair. I can’t stop thinking about her; all day at work, she is my only thought. After work, I walk around aimlessly for hours. The weather is crisp fall, and the smell is refreshing. I’m in no hurry to get home; I never really am. I sit on a park bench and to my utter shock, I see the woman with red hair through a window of a café. She looks hard at work, and I admire her from afar. My twin joins me in admiring her, and we watch until she leaves.
I wake up hours later; I’m in bed and slightly confused. My twin sits at the edge of the bed.
“I don’t recall the last couple hours,” I stated to my twin.
“You never do; you always will forget,” my twin said with a sly grin and chuckle.
I feel sick and rush over into the bathroom. When in the light, I see that my hands are bloody and stained. I look at myself and my white shirt and shorts are crimson red and covered with blood. I turn my head as my eye follows the red on myself to a puddle on the floor that leads to the tub. The bathtub has a white curtain that is spotted with blood. I yank the curtain back and there is the woman, the woman with red hair. Her red hair now matches the rest of her. I take some steps back in terror and look into the mirror. I see my twin behind me in the mirror, smiling and feel sick when I see I’m smiling, too.
It’s a Tuesday, and I’m taking the bus to work just like every other day. My twin sits beside me; the bus is fairly busy with people going to work and such. I see a woman standing in front of the bus. She is extremely beautiful with long red hair and bright green eyes; she wears a long black coat. She looks over and has seen me staring. She looks away fast with a frightened look; I wonder why she looks so scared. Then I see my twin and his eyes pierce of evil and malice; I don’t like when my twin scares people…I don’t like when my twin hurts people either.
At work, the shadows dance around the offices and the sky; I watch them and talk to my twin about the woman with red hair. I can’t stop thinking about her; all day at work, she is my only thought. After work, I walk around aimlessly for hours. The weather is crisp fall, and the smell is refreshing. I’m in no hurry to get home; I never really am. I sit on a park bench and to my utter shock, I see the woman with red hair through a window of a café. She looks hard at work, and I admire her from afar. My twin joins me in admiring her, and we watch until she leaves.
I wake up hours later; I’m in bed and slightly confused. My twin sits at the edge of the bed.
“I don’t recall the last couple hours,” I stated to my twin.
“You never do; you always will forget,” my twin said with a sly grin and chuckle.
I feel sick and rush over into the bathroom. When in the light, I see that my hands are bloody and stained. I look at myself and my white shirt and shorts are crimson red and covered with blood. I turn my head as my eye follows the red on myself to a puddle on the floor that leads to the tub. The bathtub has a white curtain that is spotted with blood. I yank the curtain back and there is the woman, the woman with red hair. Her red hair now matches the rest of her. I take some steps back in terror and look into the mirror. I see my twin behind me in the mirror, smiling and feel sick when I see I’m smiling, too.
Michelle Prodaniuk is a student at Grant MacEwan University studying Library Information Technology. Michelle writes as a hobby and hopes to work as a library technician once graduated.