Rea, let go!

Rea was my sister. It's as simple as that. No separation, no reunition later on in life. No anything.

We grew up together. She was my little clone at some times, and my pure opposite at others. We mirrored each other or repelled each other.

Rea was the creative soul, always writing and drawing and singing. I was social. She was social. I spent my time chatting online, making friends over the internet who I didn't even know. She was too smart for that, and made real friends that trusted her. She was good at sports, when she felt like playing, and had a mathematical way of analyzing things that made me think she was secretly a genius. Once to me, she said that the reason she could always beat the goalie in soccer, was because she could estimate the amount of time it took her to move, and the angle she had to hit it to make it go however fast she wanted to the exact place she wanted. I couldn't do that. As far as I knew, no one else could either.

Over time, when we were older, I was a senior in highschool and she was a freshmen, and I think I got depressed. It might have been when our mother got sick, too sick to take care of herself or us. It might have been when my best friend committed suicide. She never told me that her father hurt her that way, she didn't tell anyone. It might have been that I finally realized dad wasn't ever going to come home, and he would only remain as a memory to me and Rea.

My name was something else. It was Chelsea. Now it's something different...


My depression had gotten to the point where I didn't care anymore. I wasn't going to make it anywhere in my life, I wasn't exceptional at anything, like Rea was at everything, even if she didn't let it on. My life was a screen. My social behavior declined to show that I was a loner. My online ventures ceased, and I retired into a dark place in my mind.

I found myself on a rooftop. I knew why I had gone up there even if I tried to lie to myself about it. The city was below me, and I felt farther away from anything that I ever had before. I took a step forward, looking over the edge. I was more scared than I thought possible, looking over at the end. I didn't care if there was something after or something better. I didn't even know if there was a real reason I was up there. I couldn't really remember why I was so depressed at all. But I stepped up on the ledge anyway. I leaned forward.

"Stop! Chelsea!" A desperate voice came form behind, and I spun around to see that Rea was running toward me accross the rooftop, tears already at her eyes. She was beautiful too, even running on a dark roof with nothing but smog around us. I turned back to the edge. I could tell without looking that Rea was already calculating which way she should pull me away, or what approach to take to save my life.

But I wouldn't let her do that, I stepped forward and felt the cool rush of air whipping by me.

Snap! My descent stopped as a thin hand grabbed my wrist. I knew immediately, as well as she did, that she wouldn't be able to hold me for longer than a few seconds.

"Rea, let go!" I shouted up to her, and I turned my eyes toward the stars above. They winked at me coldly. The threatened to swallow me whole in this empty sky if I didn't let go.

"I won't let go," she said simply, and I could hear the sadness in her voice. I looked down. To my left a little ways off, was a fire escape. I looked back up only in time to see her look away from it and to the other side where emptiness reigned.

"No!" I shouted as she swung me toward the framework of metal, and she carried the momentum by swinging herself over the edge. Her hand twisted in mine and she shoved me, my arm locked, propelling me onto the escape. I landed heavily on the platform and scrambled instantly to the side where I could almost catch a glimpse of her coat as she slipped out of view. Then she was gone. Just like that.

I made my way down the fire escape as fast as I could, wincing due to an uknown injury. But by the time I got to the ground floor, she wasn't even there. There was a small pool of blood on the cold cement, but nothing else.

So I ran.

I fled the city and left the state, too frightened and in shock to try and find out what happened to her. I changed my name to something simple and normal that sounded nothing like Chelsea.

And it was only the other day as I left my work, throwing my apron in my locker before I went, that I saw a familiar face across the street. Rea, I was sure of it, was standing next to a street lamp, with sunglasses perched on her blond hair, and a dark jacket ecasing her thin torso. I ran to the spot, jumping back as a bus nearly ran me over, but she wasn't there. Gone again.

I looked around and saw a think sheet of paper, folded and taped to the pole. It read,

Chelsea,
I love you more than anything. I'm not supposed to be here at all, and I couldn't stay to answer questions. I was taken after I fell from that roof, and I woke up in a hospital. There's some sort of agency that decided to recruit me, so they said anyway, but you know how I feel about trusting people. I know I'm your little sister, and I'm young. They said that's a quality they try to acquire from what they're calling an 'asset'. I love you, Chelse, look to the left, and never look back,
Rea

I looked up from reading, and instinctively looked to the left, down the sidewalk. It was a saying we use to have, because if your friend is kept on your right, you need to keep your eyes to the left to see who else is there.

I saw a blonde head, among the walkers of the afternoon, bobbing up and down. The pair of sunglasses on her haid were pulled down and she turned. Blue eyes met mine for a fraction of a second before the sunglasses covered them, and she turned abruptly and got into a car. By the time I was running, she was already gone. I found out then that she was alive, and not dead.

Now I'm sitting at a train station, on my way to meet with a business man who might have information on a discrete company he calls 'Homiatech", which I have taken to mean: Human Technology.

So now I'm looking.