The tale of the two Twins

The excitement of Fear

We were going up the stairs to make the slide: it must have been several dozen meters high, and we were in the queue to access the final enjoyment of the attraction; I look down and my head starts to spin...but not only to spin; I start to feel a strong sense of excitement in fear, in this feeling that makes my veins dance and my blood flow through them. I hate children's laughter when they're happy, which is why I get a great idea. I notice that next to me are two identical brothers, twins probably, whose laughter makes me wish I had never been born. The heat starts to get to me, and the sweat starts to drip all over my half-naked body, and to reach my feet, which in contact with the iron stairs are burning like meat on the pan. I go back to look down and the sense of frightened excitement still torments me: I look at one of the two brothers, the one closest to me, and I ask him if he can kindly help me to hold the dinghy.Near us there is a small slit, a sort of opening between the bars, where the body of the twin next to me could very well pass, obviously accidentally. I push him, putting pressure on the tube, towards the slit: I'm very careful, I don't have to do everything right away, I have to know how to dose my considerable capacity for deception. His laughter calms down and subsides, while I start to smile, already thinking about his body smashed on the ground. After all, this game can be considered an experiment: to see how the twin's body, once battered and on the ground, can move by brotherly instinct, as if bound to the twin, even after death and crash.I love to think I'm smarter than the others, but I have to restrain myself sometimes, I can't give it away too much, or the others would notice my cunning, and try to lock me up who knows where.The twin senses the fear of falling into the loophole, and stops short, looking me in the eye. Suddenly, while in the descending dinghy, a group of boys were screaming and shouting for the dizzy and abyssal descent, I pushed the boy down the slit, with a firm blow, while everyone was watching the group of screaming boys like a pasture of lambs; but no one heard the cry of the innocent, not even God.I made a cut on my hand, using a spill of the poorly compensated iron in the frame.I uttered a scream of excitement, which soon became one of undisguised horror: I prostrated myself to the slit and saw him on the ground; in the terror of the moment, I told everyone that he had slipped, and that I had tried to save him; after all, my wound was evidence of courage, of a vain attempt to prostrate myself quickly to try to reach out to him. The evidence for the benefit of my defense was unassailable, and of this I was absolutely proud.But I had to remain cautious, I had to remain in the shadow of my intelligence, otherwise they would have found out everything, and who knows what those wretches would have done to me.I was the first to get out of the building and, together with my twin brother, I headed for the almost dead man. A crowd begins to form around us, panting and terrified at the sight of those bones sticking out of the poor man's legs.I watch carefully the muscles, the movement of the eyes and hands: something is still moving, even though the skull is almost split open.I feel a strong excitement: my thesis is supported by the visual argumentation I have just observed. I am satisfied with my work, but I repeat to myself to remain humble and calm.An ambulance arrives, but it is too late: the death is immediately confirmed. The police also arrived and I was taken, along with other witnesses, to the police station for routine questioning.If you could have seen my defense, how good I was at inventing feelings I didn't have and actions I never did. If only my injury could have spoken, then yes I would have been in trouble, but on the other hand....The park is closed, and that evening, in the perfect company of myself, I congratulate myself. But I don't feel fully satisfied, something is missing: the other twin.