𝐵𝑜𝑜𝓀 #𝟣 𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓅𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓎 𝒮𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 ↬
Blair Lain is convinced that death is coming for her. Her twin sister, Alex, says she's gone mad. Blair thinks that might be true, but she can't shake this feeling lurking inside her gut that screams tha...
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My sister was the equivalent of a wild racoon.
Cute and harmless as she may appear, if I didn't take care of her, I was sure she'd end up with rabies and stuck inside a dumpster somewhere. I knew she was annoyed by the power dynamic in our relationship—that she just wanted a sister to goof around with, but I felt protective of her like she was more than just my sister...like she was my dumb child.
Ever since I could remember, I'd been looking out for her—looking after her. She wasn't born afraid of the world like I was, and maybe that was a good thing, but it also made her stupid and reckless. It was like she had an infinity for getting into trouble, and keeping her away from that fire was getting more complicated the older she grew.
I couldn't keep her on a leash like I used to.
My earliest memory of saving her life was in the backyard of our childhood home. We were young, perhaps around 4 years of age, and playing by the pool. Our parents were there but distracted, I suppose. And in that nanosecond, Alex decided that she could walk on water, or at least she tried. The moment she stepped onto the water, she sunk, and I reacted quickly. Somehow, even at my young age, I understood the fragility of life.... I understood death.
I grabbed onto her tiny frame, keeping her head above water as I screamed out.
But it didn't stop there. From broken limbs to a fractured skull, Alex was a magnet for pain. And I was always there with my first aid kit, ready to lick her wounds, but—despite her jabs on the matter, I knew the dark truth. I knew that I wouldn't always be around to protect her.
To keep her safe.
Sooner or later, she needed to take care of herself.
I spent the next few hours huddled over the kitchen sink, trying desperately to get the stain from my scarf, but it seemed more impossible than getting Alex to admit her crime. I was still furious with my sister, but I also felt a lot of guilt. When we were kids, and my dad died, it was my mother who found him, but when my mother passed away.... It'd been Alex. I'd been away, but I'd felt her scream from across town. She and my older brother, Derick, had worked on my mum—performing CPR for fifteen minutes before the ambulance arrived, and they were unable to bring her back. After that, I gave Alex a lot of slack for everything—her bad grades, skipping school, and even smoking pot with her friends. But it'd been over three years now, and I needed help and support, too.
