The Fate of The Twins

I can hear Tommy beside me. His thoughts, at least. He's having a nightmare and it's louder than usual. I send waves of peace, but his mind races too fast for me to catch up. He's imagining our world crumbling. Our mom saying goodbye. He doesn't see Dad. For a moment I can. I see him smiling at the foot of our door, a tall, red-hued figure. But then he fades. Who was that? Tommy yells, "Mom!" Who? I don't understand.

Tommy wakes and I do, too. We look at each other from across our beds. I see my brother, not unlike myself. And then the floor drops beneath us. We fall and he reaches towards me, getting to my side of what was our room before I can even think to move.

Darkness. An endless space. I spark and see Tommy still beside me. We're alone. Completely alone.

He races in every direction and I hear the terror in his mind before it escapes as a deep, painful cry. He yells, "Help." But I don't know who (or what) could possibly hear us. Could come to our aid. I am remembering flashes. Some of them my own memories, many Tommy's anxious, moving thoughts. Faces, emotions, the feeling of safety.

All of it gone. I am looking at a boy. Not quite a mirror. I reach out to him, and he runs. I am alone. There is nothing. I... am nothing.