And here's chapter 5 of INYOURSHADOW!! ...... I don't know what to say anymore except please read, comment, and spread the word and on to chapter 5!! :DD
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IF YOU WANTED HONESTY, THAT'S ALL YOU HAD TO SAY.
Bill took the train back home, but he didn't see Tom at the station again. He plugged his earphones into his iPod, playing a random song to take his mind off of things. The fact that work was over and it was a Friday didn't excite him anymore like it did in the morning. When the train stopped at his stop, he left the station, the wind biting into his skin. He walked slowly the rest of the way home, his mind deep in thought. When he reached the quaint little house on number 4, Korse Street, he fished his keys out of his pocket and shoved them into the keyhole, quickly escaping the biting wind into the warmth of the house. He shut the door behind him, saying "I'm home!". His Grammy poked her head out of the kitchen, smiling at him. Her face was set with wrinkles, her wispy grey hair pulled into a loose bun. She was wearing an apron, with a mixing bowl in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. Bill smiled half-heartedly at her, the thought of her keeping a secret, and a huge one at that, keeping him from smiling sincerely at her. He hung his coat on one of the hooks at the doorway, then entered the kitchen, greeted by a wonderful smell. He kissed Grammy on the cheek and pulled open the fridge door, picking a bottle of Coke from the variety of sodas in there.
"So, how was work today?" Grammy asked, tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear as Bill shut the fridge door.
"Great." Bill smiled, his smile not meeting his eyes.
Grammy smiled, looked up from the batter she was mixing and the smile slid off her face.
"What's wrong, Bill?" Grammy asked, concern immediately filling her face. She had always said that Bill's face was as easy to read as a book.
"What? Nothing's wrong." Bill said quickly.
His Grammy looked amused for a moment, then the amusement quickly changed back to concern.
"Don't try to hide it Bill, of course something's wrong. I can see it in your face." Grammy coaxed.
"Really, nothing's wrong." Bill assured her.
His Grammy tried a last-ditch attempt.
"Bill, you know you can always tell me anything. Anything at all." Grammy pleaded.
Bill sighed. Grammy always knew how to get him to tell her anything.
"Alright. I don't know how to say this, but-"
"But what?" Grammy encouraged.
"Um... Do I... have a... a... sibling?" Bill stuttered, sneaking a peek at Grammy's face.
She froze, her face becoming a mask. At that moment, Bill had a feeling, he knew that Tom and his' speculation was right.
"What are you talking about?" Grammy asked sharply. She almost never raised her voice at him.
"I said... do I have a sibling?"
Grammy looked at his face and could see that he knew about Tom.
She heaved a sigh.
"You know about... Tom?" Her face was withdrawn.
Bill nodded slowly.
She heaved another sigh.
"Alright. I'll tell you about Tom."
She put the wooden spoon down and sat heavily on the kitchen stool.
"Tom... is your twin brother, 10 minutes older than you. Your parents were already struggling with money even before you were born, and they insisted that neither I nor Jorg's parents help them financially. They divorced when you were 3. Jorg didn't want to be burdened by the two of you, so he left and moved to who knows where. You mother raised you independently for a while, then she married Gordon, when you were 5. Then, a week before they died, when you were 7, they gave Tom to Gordon's parents and you to me to take care of for a while. Then they passed away. It was like they knew they were going to die or something. We were going to reunite the two of you, but it explicitly said in their will that we weren't to bring the two of you together, no matter what. You weren't to have any contact with each other at all, and you wouldn't remember anything about Tom."
Bill was speechless for a while. He had no doubt at all that his Grammy was telling the truth. Then he regained his voice.
"But why?" he whispered. "Why did they want to separate us?"
"That," Grammy shook her head, "I have no clue."
Bill sat there, staring without seeing at the messy kitchen table.
"I'm sorry, Bill. I wasn't going to keep this from you, but since your mother wrote in her will that she didn't want you to know, what choice did I have?"
Bill looked as though he was carved from stone. Grammy stared pleadingly at him. After a few moments, he suddenly got up and strode to his room, locking the door behind him.
He sat heavily on the edge of his bed, wondering what to do now that he knew the secrets his Grammy had been keeping from him. He leaned back, ending up with the top half of his body lying on the bed and the other half dangling over the edge. He covered his eyes with his arm and thought. And thought. And thought. In the end, he grabbed his cellphone and dialed the fading phone number scrawled on his palm.
