Postponing DESTINY

1/ It All Starts With ONE

Sarah

No one wants to be alone. You know, really alone, alone.

But much as we refuse to accept it, we all start alone and end alone.

Alone in the womb and alone in the tomb. Nice.

Twins are a beautiful exception. But each one still comes out from the womb, alone.

I am Sarah. And my twin sister came out a minute later but died even before the clock can complete 11 seconds. That number again.

Mom gave her the name Marah. It's a good thing she passed away before confusion can set in our household what with identical twins running around with names sounding the same. It would have been a riot.

I was 5 years old when my mom and dad explained to me that when babies pass away they became angels. And so they have two angels, they say: One living on earth and one living in heaven.

My dad and mom would alternately call me their princess or their angel. But at that time, I felt I was not really a full-fledged angel because I thought I must leave the family just like Marah to be a real one. I suspect my dad and mom were just being nice to me for calling me their angel.

So I tried my best to act angelic, so to speak. I was not very successful most of the time. My appetite for adventure and natural curiosity brought me to many serious chats with mom, dad and later on some heart to heart talks with my teachers and, just last week, with the school principal.

And because of this, I always wished for a brother…someone with whom I can, well, share some mishaps and blunders. It must be fun.  It wouldn't hurt also if he can share from time to time some of the attention that has been focused solely on me ever since. But Alas! It’s just wishful thinking on my part. These are some of those times when I long for Marah. A sister wouldn't be half as bad.

I was 13 when I realized it’s going to be just me, my mom and my dad in that warm and cozy apartment. 

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Gerald

No one wants to be alone. You know, really alone, alone.

But much as we refuse to accept it, we all start alone and end alone.

Alone in the womb and alone in the tomb. Nice.

Twins are a beautiful exception. But each one still comes out from the womb, alone.

I am Gerald. And my twin brother came out a minute later but died even before the clock can complete 11 seconds. That number again.

Mom gave her the name Gerard. It's a good thing he passed away before confusion can set in our household what with identical twins running around with names sounding the same. It would have been a riot.

I was 5 years old when my mom and dad explained to me that when babies pass away they became angels. And so they have two angels, they say: One living on earth and one living in heaven.

My dad and mom would alternately call me their prince or their angel. But at that time, I felt I was not really a full-fledged angel because I thought I must leave the family just like Gerard to be a real one. I suspect my dad and mom were just being nice to me for calling me their angel.

So I tried my best to act angelic, so to speak. I was not very successful most of the time. My appetite for adventure and natural curiosity brought me to many serious chats with mom, dad and later on some heart to heart talks with my teachers and, just last week, with the school principal.

And because of this, I always wished for a sister… someone with whom I can, well, share some mishaps and blunders. It must be fun.  It wouldn't hurt also if she can share from time to time some of the attention that has been focused solely on me ever since. But Alas! It was just wishful thinking on my part. These are some of those times when I long for Gerard. A brother wouldn't be half as bad.

I was 13 when I realized it’s going to be just me, my mom and my dad in that warm and cozy apartment. 

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