Dream Twin

This may make sense to you, or it might make none at all. I have no idea. This story changed a lot while I was writing it. Now it's part poetry, part prose, but mostly strange ideas from an insane thirteen-year-old's mind. Read it. Tell me what you think.


         I have a twin brother.
         We do everything together. You'd think we hang out with our own friends, seeing as I'm a girl and he's a boy. But we don't. We stick together. We always have.
         I think it has something to do with the fact that we're adopted.
         Our real parents were nice. They were better then the people who adopted us. Our real parents loved us.
         I don't remember them at all.
         But they must have been better.

         They aren't my parents. I've always known that. Just the “people who adopted us.” Richard and May. Not Mom and Dad.
         Aren't my parents.
         Isn't my father, isn't my mother.
         Fathers and mothers love you. They don't hurt you. Never.
         And they tuck you in at night when you go to sleep.

         Home is where your real parents are. Home is where you always return to.
         This is not home. Richard and May's house.
         Not home.
         So I leave. Never spend much time at all here.
         I go visit friends, I go to parties, I go exploring. With my brother.
         Don't ever want to go back. But we have to.
         We want to go home. But we can't.

         Yelling and anger.
         Richard and May.
         They go hand and hand.
         It's not home when you find that waiting for you.

         We leave again and again. We stay away longer and longer.
         It gets later and later.
         We don't ever get enough sleep. But we won't go back.
         Not enough sleep. Never time to dream.
         Maybe that's why. He was just tired.

         They took him.
         “This has to stop.” May's words. Angry words.
         They wouldn't let me come, and they wouldn't let him stay.
         They took my twin brother.

         They hurt him real bad.
         They took him in that car. And then the next thing I know, he's here.
         In the hospital.

         Their fault, their fault. I know it.
         Car accident, they say.
         Lies.

         Trapped in a nightmare. Alone.

         I was too late.
         He was already asleep when I got here.

         Richard and May...where are they?
         Real parents tuck you in when you go to sleep.

         I won't be allowed to stay. They'll take me back.
         And they won't let him come.

         Wake up.
         Wake up!
         Where are you?

         He's not here. He's somewhere else.
         The place everyone goes when they sleep.
         He's dreaming.
         But he won't wake up.
         Neither can I.

         This must be a nightmare. Must be a dream.

         He's just sleeping.
         Just sleeping.

         I need to find him.
         I need to bring him back.

         I clasp his hand.
         I curl up on the bed.
         And I fall asleep.

         I dream.


         I'm at home. I know it. The house is bright and familiar. Music is playing. I can smell dinner cooking. Evening sunlight is streaming in through the windows.
         My head is clear. I can finally think straight. Everything is so clear, clearer than I can ever remember. The haze that had shrouded my world is gone.
         Where is my family? Where is my brother?
         They're here, I know it. But where?
         I can't wake up. Not until I find them.

         I walk outside. I remember this street, those houses. The woods where I used to play. Memories come rushing back with every step. But still it is deserted here.
         I walk on and on. Memories and memories. Silence, but for the sound of my feet on the ground.
         I begin to panic. Where are they? Where is everybody?
         I run. The houses and trees zoom past. And suddenly the sky goes white, the landscape melts away, and the sidewalk disappears.

         I can see myself. And him.
         On that bed. The hospital bed.
         The white sheets.
         Our white faces.
         I'm breathing.
         He's not.

         I'm hovering above.
         And falling.
         Down, down, slowly, softly.

         The haze is coming back.
         I can't think.
         
         Closer and closer.
         I'm leaving home.
         Leaving him.
         Leaving my family.

         No!
         I have to stay.

         Can't wake up.

         Can't.

         I pull.
         Up.
         Away.
         Home.

         Closer.
         Closer.

         Can't wake up!

         I hear a snap.
         And then I'm flying.

         I'm free.
         I'm still here.
         But in a new way.

         One last glimpse of the hospital.
         I'm not breathing anymore.


         Suddenly I'm back. The peaceful and warm house surrounds me again. But this time I'm not alone.
         I turn, and there's my family.
         Mom.
         Dad.
         And my brother.
         
         Home is where your real parents are. Home is where you always return to.