As you may know, I am currently taking a break, but wanted to share some of my earliest posts with you, that you may have missed.
This was one of the very first stories I wrote and published on my blog on the Twentieth of March.
When I wrote it, I had to go back and add in the title that it was fictional because I was being left some very kind and supportive comments but thinking that the story was a true one. I hope that means that it comes across as authentic, but I would like to reassure anyone reading this that I am not a twin.
I hope you like this story.
All the best 🙂
People always said we were identical.
We were born only eleven minutes apart on the 1st of June.
Our star sign was Gemini, the sign of the twins.
We were brothers and as we grew up together, we knew each other better than anyone.
We both had blond hair and blue eyes.’Totally Angelic’ people used to call us.
We both got straight A’s at school. Both of us seemed to excel in the arts subjects but had to work harder at Mathematics and Algebra.
To everyone, we seemed to be the same.
I knew we were different.
When we were very young and played in the garden together. I used to like making daisy chains and then I’d sit and watch the birds flying free in the air. He used to look for insects and spiders. I remember toddling over to him, walking was still quite a new adventure and I was still a bit wobbly at it, I found him playing with the ants. He was picking them up and squashing them in his fingers with a look of pleasure on his face. I was revolted. I couldn’t understand why he would want to do such a thing.
We both had large teddy bears bought for us by our grandmother. Mine was blue and I called him Bluey. My Brother’s bear was red and he called him Boss. One day Boss was found behind the garden shed with his head pulled off. I remember Mom asking him “What happened Joey? What happened to Boss bear?” Joey said he didn’t know. He didn’t seem bothered. I knew what happened but I didn’t say a word. I remember crying that night over this bear that wasn’t mine.
Then at high school, the most terrible thing happened. One of our friends, Jimmy, disappeared. He was younger and smaller than us, one of the smallest boys in his year. He used to like playing with us. We used to stop other people from bullying him. I used to play cowboys with Joey and me as the heroes and little Jimmy was our side-kick. Sometimes Joey used to boss Jimmy around, Jimmy didn’t seem to mind though, he was good-natured. He was a bit slow and I sometimes helped him with his homework.
I remember as clear as if it were yesterday, though it is close to twenty years ago now, the day they called us into the assembly and told us that Jimmy was missing. Everyone was so worried, the teachers and all the children, their faces betrayed their inner fears. I looked at Joey. His face was blank. No emotion showed. That was what scared me the most. I remembered the last time I had seen Jimmy was down by the bottom of the playing field, with Joey. They seemed to be arguing about something, but I was too far away to hear what they were shouting at each other. The bell sounding the end of playtime had rung out and I ran to my class. About ten minutes later Joey came in, his face was flushed and he had been panting as if he’d run all the way from the lower field. Poor Jimmy was in the year below, so I didn’t know then that he didn’t make it back for the afternoon register.
It was at the morning assembly the next day that we all gathered to be told the news that he was missing. Upon the stage, next to the headmaster stood a man in a police uniform. He was going to speak to us all, the headmaster said, and we were going to have to tell him if we knew anything at all about Jimmy, if he had told us he was going to meet someone or if we had seen any strangers hanging around the school gates.
I remember thinking then, that there wasn’t any stranger on the outside, it was the stranger within that was the scariest of all.
When It was my turn to speak to the policeman. My teacher sat in with me with a look of genuine concern on her face. I knew that this was more important than what had happened with the Ants or with Boss bear. I had to tell them what I had seen.
It wasn’t long before they’d searched the trees at the bottom of the playing fields and came across poor Jimmy’s body, lying there next to a large bloodstained rock.
I was there, of course, when they came to take Joey away. He looked into my eyes, cold and clear, and asked me why I had betrayed him? He would never have betrayed me, he’d said.
We couldn’t understand each other. I couldn’t understand how he could do such an evil thing and he couldn’t understand how I could have told someone about it.
I remember they took him to a secure place, where everything seemed to be white. White walls, white floors, white lights and people in their long white coats. They not only spent a lot of time talking to Joey, but they also talked to me. I was, after all, his twin brother and we were identical. Eventually, they realised that although we looked identical, we were very different on the inside. I remember one of the doctors saying that. “I have rarely seen such two different personalities. One is so kind and thoughtful whereas the other is as cold as the grave.”
As I say, that was close to twenty years ago now. Joey and I don’t talk to each other anymore. He is safe and secure behind his walls and I feel much better for it. He could never understand my betrayal and I could never understand his cruelty.
The thing that I still find very hard to take in, although I have had many years of Psychoanalytic therapy and the doctors have been very kind, I cannot accept that Joey isn’t my brother. That we are actually one person. How can we be? When we are so different?
Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 20/March/2018