A Story by Rocki-san

How long has it been now since I’ve seen your face? Your whimsical smile, the wisdom in your eyes, the way you would crinkle your nose when you were in deep thought? I guess you could say that it was this morning when I looked in the mirror and saw my own reflection.

“Castor, why did you cover the mirror again?” I could hear mom from the bathroom, going to cry again even though she’d just come out of there. You always were the favorite. I didn’t answer her but sat at the kitchen counter, staring off into the garden as I did most of the time anyway. I just had no motivation to go outside like I used to.

Why did I cover up the mirror you ask? Well, I do look in the mirror as soon as I wake up and right before I go to bed, so I’ll never forget what you look like even though you had the one dimple while my face had grown smooth. After the one look I can never stand the sight anymore, I just have to cover it up.

Mom came out of the bathroom, postponing her afternoon cry for a moment. It was the first time she’d spoken, or even noticed my existence, in a week. I couldn’t blame her, we looked exactly the same. Sometimes I felt as though I deserved the neglect, as if it were my fault that I reminded her of you.

“Why are you just sitting there like a lump on a log?” she grumbled as she folded the towel and placed it in the linen closet. “Why don’t you go get the mail?”

I slid of the kitchen stool and grabbed the key to our P.O. Box before walking outside into the warmth of the summer sun. I kept my head low, something I know you’d think was uncharacteristic but my chin refused to lift itself from my chest.

I’d reached the town and flipped my tri-colored hair so that those who knew me would continue to believe my ploy of being just fine. You had the same hair, brown, red, blonde; our friends always called us the “calico brothers” because of it.

“Hey, Castor!” I looked over to the Greek café to see said friends hanging out together. As much as it would pain you, I had been avoiding them for days since school let out for the last time. I put on a fake smile and waved to them. Hye was the only one to reach me, her black hair bouncing around in a pony tale as she ran up to me and tackled me in a hug.

“We tried calling you!” She said and started walking with me towards the café.

“Oh,” I said, even the fake happiness didn’t last. Her smile disappeared as well as her bubbling personality if only for the moment.

“We’re all going to the movies later, would you like to come? It starts at six and it’s my treat.” She’d been trying to get me to go with them for months, ever since it happened.

“Sure,” but we both knew that was a lie.

“I’ll be expecting you,” she grinned motioning “I’m watching you!” with her fingers to her eyes. I nodded and continued walking as she went to join the others who’d just about given up on me as a friend but that was okay, I deserved it.

I walked by the building where dad worked, I should probably go visit him one of these days. “Should” meaning that it was another thing that would weigh on my conscience but never be resolved.

Finally, I reached the Post Office and went inside. The woman at the desk had been an old friend of mom’s but I pretended to be listening to music to avoid confrontation. Sure, she was the only adult that seemed concerned for my mental well-being but pity was nothing I wanted.

I looked through the stack of mail as I walked home at a sloth-like pace, it beat just sitting at the kitchen counter watching pollen float by. Is it sad to say that I’m jealous of the pollen’s adventurous life?

Every bit of mail that was sent to you I placed in my back pocket, just so mom wouldn’t have to see it and break-down again. There was an ever growing stack of college recruiting brochures from Yale and Harvard in a box in our closet. There weren’t any brochures for me but even if there were, I’d probably just throw them out.

I tossed the mail onto the counter and continued my dazed stupor in the kitchen. I didn’t know how much time had passed between coming home and when mom came to the kitchen to find something to eat.

“Did you get dinner?” she asked without really caring and I replied with a lie. “Alright, well why don’t you gather a bouquet for your brother then find something to do for the rest of the night? Make my life easier.”

I sighed and got up from the counter again. Just like she never failed to write a note in our lunch boxes as kids, she never failed to make sure you had a fresh bouquet every week. Mom was funny like that.

I made sure to pick the best flowers from the garden, the ones mom had me plant and grow for this reason. I was sure the colors were vibrant, but I could barely see them. The reds, blues and yellows were all muted in my eyes, same as everything else now.

Again, it wasn’t a very long walk to my destination, just a few minutes and I arrived to the cemetery at precisely 5:00 pm, just as any other Saturday. I moved the dead flowers from your grave so the inscription could be read: “Nomiki Areleous, 1992-2010, Loving son, brother and friend.”

I sat down in front of your grave, mom went into the bathroom to cry over your loss. I came here. It was just as private and this way you could see that you were missed. I always wondered what the past year would have been like if the accident hadn’t happened, if you were still here or if it had been I who was to be mourned.

I arranged the flowers so your first name was hidden, it was less painful that way. Then I could pretend you were still here, with us, and I was the one down there. You were the favorite, the smarter one and even though we were twins I couldn’t help but think you were better looking too and you could always bring even me out of a sour mood. I sometimes think that everyone would be happier if you’d been the one to survive. I know that mom, dad, Hye and the others wish you had lived instead of me.

I know I do.  

© 2010 Rocki-san

Author's Note

Wow.. I always write depressing stories.. why is that?
Well.. I REALLY like the names in this story so.. don't be surprised if you see them again... I have this weird... obsession with names..
Anyway, sorry for being a Debbie-Downer but let me know what you think :3

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Oh my god this made me cry again....

Posted 9 Years Ago

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Added on June 9, 2010
Last Updated on June 9, 2010



Hey, I'm Rocki! I live on a 14-mile long island where there isn't really anything to do so I write. I'm an Anthropology major and willing to read your stories or books if requested as long as you give.. more..