Those Who Fall
Jenson knows I'm nervous. He always knows that I am. While he sits up tall, dignified and composed, my thin shoulders are drawn in on one another, blonde hair falling against my eyes. All I want to do is run, flee, forget this, but even then I know it's no use. It's already inside of me, a stamp already against the backs of my eyelids. Dying. My internal clock is running short.
"Aliana," Jensen's voice croaks, a hiss from the corner of his mouth. When I turn I can see his dark, honey colored eyes watching me in silence. I sigh and look away but he grabs my hand, making tiny circles on my palm, the way our grandmother used to do. Feeling his warm fingers on mine makes a sparking chill strike up my arm. "There's nothing to be afraid of. I promise."
His eyes are sympathetic, but they lie. He knows it's not okay; and if by some means he's brought peace to the idea that we're dying because of a chemical flooded into our veins years ago he's insane. I always find it peculiar that Jenson is so mystified by the idea death. Not in the dark way, but in the way that our energy becomes something new altogether.
I'm not. I'm afraid more than anything.
"Jensen, please," I moan, shifting from toe to toe. "Jensen I want to go-"
"Stop," he says again, giving my hand a firm pump. "Just a few more guests. Then we have two hours to ourselves." He stops, but then I can feel the words almost on his lips. And then that's it. Then we're gone.
A few guests come to shake our hands, say what a shame it is, say how kind we are, but none of them truly care. A few boys embrace Jensen in an awkward hug, but none come for me. The only friend I had, Gemini, left hours ago. As soon as the ceremony started, she was in tears, and her parents had to take her home. Ripped from me early, I suppose.
It's not until a boy comes up, hair draped in front of his eyes as he looks shyly around, does my heart jump to my chest. He's dressed up even further than most of the boys, his suite clean and ironed nicely. Most of them came from the more poor parts of the Division wearing too big or too small clothes. By far he is more beautiful he has ever been.
Then his eyes meet mine. Crystal blue, clear as a robin's egg. A small smile, shy and cute, taints his lips as he strides closer to the table that Jensen and I sit behind awkwardly. I can feel as the color drains from my face, and my fingers grasp the sides to keep from falling out.
As he approaches, his smile is replaced instead with one covered in sadness and sympathy. Sickly sweet and I hate that he has to do this to me. Still, he mummers a small "Hey" and places his finger in a dent on the table.
Jensen elbows me in the ribs before I wheeze out a nervous "Hey" back to him. Then, feeling it's needed; I speak his name and let it roll off my lips. Let me speak it one last time. "Avan."
Avan swallows, and nervously touches his tie. "I'm sorry," is all he says, in a low voice, "that this happened to you. It sucks."
I lick my lips, trying to hide my yearning to say something more emotional back to him. "Yeah."
Before I can say another work, he's been over the table, lips softly landed on my cheek, touch gentle as anything. His other hand touches my cheek, his hands softer than I thought they would be, cradling my cheek. I can't help the feeling as my cheeks flush red with shock.
"I don't want it to be like this," he whispers, moving his lips so close to my ear that I can feel the tickle of his breath. "I don't want it to be you."
Then before I can stop myself, my arms are around his neck, and I'm on my feet embracing him. I can feel the gentle heave of his chest, the kind that he's trying to hold back tears. "I'm sorry," I whisper into his chest. "I can't help it."
Avan pulls me away from him, letting my eyes rest in his. "Of course you can't," he says with caution, then places a small kiss on my forehead. I see the sparkle of tears in his eyes as he rips away, leaving me for the last time.
A hollowness fills my chest with longing. Avan had been my friend for years, the kind that you spend cool summer nights with and tell secrets to. The one that I always trusted. Gemini was convinced that him and I were meant to be- so be it I had a crush on him it didn't make a difference. No one loves an IPC kid.
Now does it occur to me that maybe he was always afraid of an IPC kid never loving him.
"Well," Jensen says from beside me, his voice airy and filled with shock. "I think that's the best parting gift you've gotten, huh?"
I don't respond, just touch the piece of my cheek that feels warm from his lips. He'll never see me again. At least, not alive. Maybe he'll come into my house late at night, the way he always used to, but for once I won't be asleep. I'll be dead this time, and maybe he'll just cradle me to him as the girl who he wanted so badly to love slipped away before she could.
No, it's foolish. But somehow it makes me feel better- always picturing someone I love with me does. My father, straitening my clothes in my casket. My mother by my bedside when dawn breaks, stroking back my hair and kissing my cheeks like she used to do when I was having a bad dream. My eldest brother, Cass, talking to me as if I was still there. But in my thoughts, they are never broken, but instead smiling with sadness in their eyes. They've known about this for sixteen years from the moment the doctor told them that their twins had been elected.
Before the Lottery, the world was overpopulated, littered with slums and dirty children. There was no food- the small rations that were handed out left people starving. Something had to be done- and that's where the International Population Control stepped in.
The Lottery was the fact that two children born in every hospital were to be chosen every day to die. The thought didn't roll over well with the public, as it was equal to forced abortion, but they were soon to create a serum which lived in the children for sixteen years past their birthday. And on midnight of their birthday, that's it. Their life closes a book never to be opened again. Painless and silent, but a shockwave strong enough to push anyone close enough off their feet.
And lucky for the IPC, a twin boy and girl were born in a small hospital.
Maybe the pain isn't physical. Maybe the life just drains away in sleep, that it's nothing more than that. No, there has to be more. Even though time and warning there's the immediate pain in which no one can prepare for. For my parents. For my brother. For our friends. The people who got too close to us even though they tried not to.
A few more people pass by in blurs before my father and mother walk out from the door, arm in arm, and their faces long and tired. My mother kisses the top of my head, my father squeezing Jensen's shoulder. Both my parents look plain and simple, which spreads a smile on my face. My father is the senator- he has enough money to buy a new suite every day. Yet he doesn't try to make it seem that way.
"You guys did great," my mother says, a smile cracking on her lips. Jensen thanks her, but I stay silent. All I had to do was smile, pretend I didn't care. It didn't take any work except for the work of deceiving those around us. No tears, no fear.
While servants scramble to clean up a mess of the goodbye party, my mother helps me take off the elegant dress. The fabric chokes me, snagging against my skin and chipping at her nails, but she makes no sound. Just the simple patterns of her breathing, eyes sealing shut awkwardly as I change into nightclothes. The last clothes I will ever wear are comfortable as anything has ever been.
Finally, the peace breaks, and awkwardness sets in as my mother whispers, "I heard about Avan."
Something pulls hard on my chest with the mention of his name, but I keep down the tears. "How?" I ask, but I know the answer.
"Jensen isn't very good at keeping secrets," she says with an inward smirk, lips twisting but eyes filling with pain. "Aliana... I'm sorry. I knew you two loved each other but I didn't enforce it because-"
"Because we'd have to say goodbye," I finish, picking at my cuticles. The lecture had been thousands of times, driven into my skull until I finally realized that what she said was true. Falling in love with someone who has a date to leave the earth already was a foolish move.
My mother tightens her lips into a white line, then her voice slips open: "He's speaking at your funeral."
Terror shreds at my chest, but my mother's eyes stay firm on mine. My mouth gapes, but no words come out. Instead, I barely whisper, "You said it was family only-"
"He loves you, Aliana," she says breathlessly. Her words strike at my core, and I feel sick. "You know that this event is killing him. He said that he wants something in memory of you, that he's going to get a tattoo or something. That boy told me that he'd rather die and your place than watch you-"
"Stop!" I yell, louder then I intended, but I feel myself shaking like a wet dog, tears burning in my eyes. I'm not afraid of dying. I'm afraid of losing people like Avan, whose hearts will cry out in ravaging pain. People who want to die because I was chosen on completely random matters.
My mother says nothing of my childish sniveling, but pulls me into her arms, rocking me back and forth. Fingers travel through my long hair as she whispers, "I'm so sorry" and "I promise it will be okay". It feels like minutes pass like hours, each one drawing closer to my demise. But I feel numbed to the core, no longer plagued with fear.
When the door creaks open to the small room, my mother and I both jump in shock. Jensen stands in the doorway, wearing whites that match mine, and swallows slowly. "I didn't mean to..."
"Its fine," my mother whispers, brushing a few wet hairs out of my eyes. Though she bites hard on her lips, I can see them quivering, and the lines of makeup tracking down her face. "Is everything alright Jensen?"
"I'm going to bed," he says, and that's all it takes. My mother sucks in a cold breath, making it sound odd in her chest.
"How late is it?" my mother says, her voice barely audible.
"Eleven forty," my brother chimes in, placing his hands on Jensen's shoulders. "It's time for them to go to bed."
My mother looks at me, hurt circulating in her eyes. "It can't be that late yet."
"Mom," I whisper softly, touching her arm.
"No... no it can't!" she shouts, her hazel eyes fading to grey. "No, Aliana, it isn't that late is it? Is it?"
"Mom!" I shout this time, holding her shoulders with firm hands. Her trembling stops, and the look in her eyes shows a scared child. Not wanting to see it any longer, I just hug her close and whisper, "I love you."
Her embrace is immediate. "I love you too."
Hugs with my brother and father are the same, just a strand away from breaking down. Exchanging words of love. In no time at all, Jensen and I are climbing the stairs to our room, and anxiety rushes through me. Not much longer now until it's all over. Not much longer.
I hate the ICP. I hate them for taking my life like it's theirs, I hate them for making hundreds of other kids go through the same thing. Two kids from the hospital died yesterday, and two are going to die tomorrow. Children die, but there's not a whim of anyone to stop them.
Jensen is laying me in my bed before I can think about it, and he's whispering soothing words to me. "It's not going to hurt, Ali," he says below his breath as he tucks blankets around my torso.
"How do you know?" I spit without thinking, pain searing through my body. Jensen flinches, pulling his hands away as if I am poisonous.
"It just won't," he says silently before messing up my hair with his fingertips. Then, without warning, his words are, "Goodbye, Aliana."
A gasp leaves me as my fingers coil around his wrists. Tears smear in my eyes without warning. I don't want to say goodbye. Not to Jensen. Not to the blonde haired boy who always knew me, who could always tell what I was going through. Not the one whose eyes study me with concern even now, worried at my outbreak.
"Don't let me die alone," I mummer, tears touching my cheeks. "Please don't let them kill me like this."
Jensen gets the message as he crawls next to me, my back against his. Though we don't touch, his presence is obvious. We're separate by a few minutes, but often it feels like years. He takes care of me then I even know how.
"You know, for a little sister, you sure are a handful," he mocks, and I swing back a hand to hit him and I hear his joking laughter. Always a joke passed between us, one that always bugged me but now feels like a loving gesture.
We spend our last minutes whispering to one another, telling tales about how we were young and dumb. I talk about Gemini and Avan, about all the times we spent laughing together. Speaking of Avan aches, and I wish that for once I could see him one more time. Jensen talks about his old friends and how dirty they would get when they played, and how our mom always yelled at us to wash up. About how she would bake, and how my father would smoke a cigar, and the house was always a battlefield of scents. How, even after Cass left for college, we found his tricks lying around the house. We're wasting our last moments, but it doesn't matter. We don't care about time- only each other.
"You know," I finally whisper, "you're not too bad of a twin."
"Really?" Jensen whispers, sounding as if he's fading off to sleep already.
"Well I mean despite the teasing and everything," I say with a small laugh, his gentle vibration a silent laugh as well. "But, I mean, Cass always ganged up on us and you were always there for me. Sure, you went with Cass sometimes, but you never wanted to hurt me or anything. You just understood me... The only one who understood me."
I flip over, finding that his back is facing me. But to his back, I whisper, "I guess I'm just happy I'm not going alone. Because you are going to take care of me, right? I'll take care of you." Quieter, I whisper, "I need you to make the journey with me. I love you, Jensen."
Jensen doesn't make a response, which hurts me a bit, but I take it as his stubbornness playing out again. "Come on, tell your sister you love her too," I joke, pushing on his shoulder blade.
But he doesn't refrain from my touch. Instead, his shoulder collapses in a lax way.
And the joke is over.
"Jensen?" I whisper, touching shoulder again, giving him a gentle shake. When nothing happens, I flip him to his back, and push myself to my knees. Eyes wide and empty, skin paler then snow, my brother lays quiet. Nausea rolls over me as his head looks as if he was just a ghost. "Jensen?" I say, raising my voice, giving him a shake. "Jensen, it's not funny anymore, get up!"
Then I will myself to do the impossible. My fingers dig into his neck, trembling, shifting, and looking for a heartbeat. Nothing. Nerves overtake me as I dig deeper, father, searching for a pulse. For a final sign of life. Yet, his neck is still.
"No, God, please no," I mummer, hands checking for breath, for pulse, for anything. "Jensen, no! It wasn't supposed to happen this way! You can't just leave me here!"
His eyes don't waver, and I collapse into his chest, a scream tearing through me. Do we die in the order that we were born, and so my time is coming to a close very soon? Or did my parents lie about the administering of the drug just to make Jensen feel better? If Jensen is dead now, then I should be too.
I thought about how others would react to me dying, but never how I would react my brother's death. My reflection, my light. The one who knew when no one else would even look at me. Gone, gone as I confessed how much he meant to me. Each breath is a labored pain, each second feeling like hours.
"Take me!" I finally scream. "Jensen, take me with you! Take me now!"
Something clenches from behind me, pulling me off of Jensen's body, and I hope for one moment that it's someone taking away my life. Until I feel the sharp pain of hands squeezing too tight knowing that a force would never handle me this way. I thrash, fighting, demanding to be put back next to Jensen. It's my turn soon, my turn for the fight to drain away. I want to be gone in peace.
"Aliana, its Cass," my brother's voice mummers. "Calm down, its Cass." When I collapse out of his arms, nearly falling to the floor, he sits me on a bench and whispers, "Jensen?"
"Jensen's gone," I whisper, my throat dry, making Cass's dark eyes fill with tears. "I'll be gone soon, too." The words feel good, they feel calming.
"No, you won't," Cass says, kneeling at Jensen's side, taking one of his hands in his and squeezing it tight. His words sting my flesh, burning white hot like a flame slowly devouring me. The urge to smack my brother is so fast, so sudden, that I almost faint with the head rush. Dizzy. I'm dying.
"Of course I will," I fire back, angrily. I have to. "Jensen and I die together, Cass, remember? I will die at the time I was born."
Cass looks up at me, wild eyed. "You were born eight minutes apart. It's twelve twenty."
I vomit. I can't help it. I puke up the slush of the party and feel as my body withers on the floor. No, I have to die. Jensen died, it's my turn. It's my turn, right? My turn to see what happens when the soul leaves the body. Jensen can't be the only one.
But if he is...
My mother flings herself through the door, quickly followed by my father. I'm guessing they came upon hearing the unsuspected commotion where their two children lay next to each other in their last moments together. They both rush immediately for Jensen's body, but as my mother sees me withering on the floor, she rushes to my side. Her face is stark white, and empty. Her lips are wide in terror of seeing me alive.
"I have to die," I whisper to her as she pulls me away from my mess on the floor. "Jensen and I together. We have to go together. He can't go alone."
"Tucker, she's going into shock!" my mother yells at my father.
"Because she's immune, of course she's confused!" The word hangs in the air, like daggers waiting to slice down in the air. Immune? To death?
Silence.
"It's happened before," my father says, but it sounds distant and groggy. "But, it's not supposed to. It's a genetic thing."
"Why didn't Jensen live, then?" Cass asks, and his words dig into me with pain. Jensen is dead. I'm not dying. The duo has split up.
My father says something, but my ears foam and my fingers are limp. My mouth tries to make sound but it just gapes. Gemini and Avan think that I'm dead. Everyone thinks the Senators daughter has died. But she didn't. No, she's alive. While her twin brother lays in an unmoving mass, she's alive as ever.
Jensen's dead eyes give me a cold glare, and I break down at his feet, apologizing. He doesn't speak to me, just look at me.
I blink, and imp in my mother's arms. She yells about something I don't even know. I can't keep my head up any longer. I let the world fade black as I dance into unconsciousness.
Thanks for reading! Not my best work but... Anyway, Tell me if anyone wants a sequel