on that day, her heart stopped

1.2 ~ The Twins

Some time later, the girl stared intently at her reflection in the mirror. Even she could see how much her face had changed in the space of just two years. Her eyes seemed rounder, they gleamed brighter than ever, and her freckles still lightly dusted her cheeks. Her time inside the house reading had hindered their pigmentation, making them slightly faded and less noticeable.

With a wooden, bristled brush, she quickly attempted to tame her wild hair. This took the longest when she got ready. After five minutes of attempting to brush it into submission, she let her brown locks hang down freely, framing her more matured face. Hastily, she pulled a well fitted grey shirt over her head and finished buckling her trousers. The girl slipped on her favourite boots. Lacing them always took an agonisingly long time, as they reached the top of her calves.

Finally, she went to grab her favourite green jacket when she noticed that it was missing. The girl flipped her pillows and started rummaging around her room. She cleared out the wooden drawers and under her bed, scattering bedding, shoes and an assortment of items around the room. Finally losing her patience, she called out to the boy on the other side of the wall. Irritated at the lack of reply, she knocked against it twice, dust whirling from where her fist pounded, to get his attention.

"Hey, lanky! Where did you put my jacket?"

"Is your brain that bad? You left it on the bench in the kitchen."

Furiously swinging the dark oak door, the girl marched into the kitchen to see her freshly pressed jacket in her Mother's outstretched arm. The girl took a good look around her. Their house was a place of tranquility. Memories, in the forms of sketches and ornaments featured on every wall and dried flowers hung from the ceiling. A detailed painting of their Grandfather was hanging in the kitchen, over the counter. Their Mother had framed it when he passed. The kitchen benches had seen better days as both were half rusted and rattled unsteadily against the ground, whenever someone knocked them. Likewise, the armchairs in the living room were beginning to fall apart. The once red cushions had diminished to an ashy ember-red and were in dire need of replacing.

Every inch of the little house had a memory stamped into it. The many times the twins had smacked each other in the head with those heavy pillows appeared in the girl's mind as she laughed to herself. She would miss the constant smell of lavender, especially when she was trying to sleep at night. Her Mother always had a pot on the kitchen windowsill filled with the fresh flowers, as well as hanging it out to dry from the ceiling. The sweet aroma would course throughout every crack in the house, soothing the family through restless nights. The warm taste of their Mother's food would also be long gone and their seats at the table would soon be permanently empty.

The girl's mind returned to the present and she turned to her Mother again, taking the heavy jacket from her hand.

"Thanks." After slipping on the jacket, and sighing in comfort, her brother joined them in the kitchen. Wandering in, with a smirk carved into his face, he immediately crossed his arms and smugly turned to his sister.

"Who are you to call me lanky? I've always been taller than you!"

"I'm still older!"

"Only by seven minutes!"

"Seventeen!" She argued.

By now the twins were facing off against each other, mocking each other with silly faces and hand gestures. Sara was tearing her eyes between both of her children, completely amazed at how quickly they were growing up. Her heart throbbed with sorrow, emotions tugging at her eyes, until her vision began to distort and tears started streaking down her face. After a loud sniffle rung through the kitchen, both twins stopped bickering and faced their Mother with worry.